Remembrance of Tarkhun Past

It is hard to imagine what Lenin would have made of a food truck festival taking place in the heart of the capital of world communism, but there he was – or rather, there was his imposing statue – presiding over just that at Moscow’s VDHKh – Exhibition of the Achievements of the National Economy.

I appeared to be the only one picking up on the irony. Everyone else was busy taking full advantage of both the balmy sunshine of “babye lyeto” (literally, “old woman’s summer,” known in the US as Indian Summer) and the many amenities that VDNKh offers after its major facelift.

Once a showcase for the agricultural, industrial, and scientific prowess of the Soviet Union, VDNKh today is a magnet for rollerbladers, Moscow’s burgeoning population of cyclists, and hipster foodies. All three tribes were out in force for the capital’s third Food Truck Festival of the year. Moving from one brightly-colored truck to another, patrons enthusiastically sampled everything from classic American food truck fare: burgers, gyros, pizza, barbecue, and fried chicken, to Asian noodles, dumplings, and pad thai, and a wide range of traditional Russian dishes.

Moscow’s food truck boom is a byproduct of the Moscow City Government’s ambitious parks renewal program. Once shabby and neglected, and largely relegated to the city’s indigents, MUSEON, Gorky Park, and VDNKh today deliver on their original mission to provide ”recreation and culture.” A big part of that is food, and alongside the elegant permanent cafes in the parks, food trucks have found a useful and profitable niche, offering innovative, quality food at an affordable price. It is a win-win recipe for both the punters and food truck owner-operators.

“There are basically three types of food truck owners in Moscow, and they are motivated by very different things,” explained Anastasia Kolesnikova as we strolled through the festival. Kolesnikova is the brains behind Mestnaya Eda – or “local food” – a boutique business consultancy dedicated to helping independent entrepreneurs in the food industry. Kolesnikova has become expert at identifying just which type of food trucker she’s dealing with, and she spurns the first group: those who are simply in it for the money, with no concern for quality or consistency of the food they offer.

“Then you have the ones with stars in their eyes,” she said.” Maybe it’s a group of friends, or a couple, who have seen the food truck movement in Europe and quite often they are simply enchanted by the actual vehicle: they spend a lot of time choosing it, decorating it, fitting it out and only then do they begin to think about what to cook in it! As a rule, these aren’t professional cooks, but they put a lot of heart and soul into what they do. Unfortunately, they usually don’t know how to turn a profit… but what they produce is delicious and delightful! Moscow needs people like this. They are everywhere in the world and we need them here too!”

Kolesnikova said she favors working with these type of clients, and when she began her business, she quickly realized that what her clients needed, rather than advanced marketing services, was more basic know-how, so she now provides workshops, master classes, and lectures on everything from unit pricing to how to build a website.

Of late, Kolesnikova receives lots of queries for advice and support on how to cope with the mounting web of bureaucracy associated with the operation of a mobile food unit. It is a burden Kolesnikova has seen increase after the resignation of Sergei Kapkov, Moscow’s energetic head of the Department of Culture. Kapkov took the lead on the parks project, and was a staunch supporter of small- and medium-sized businesses like food trucks. Some fear his departure may see the ascendancy of a third group of food truckers, per Kolesnikova’s schema: Moscow’s large and powerful restaurant chains.

The capital’s food industry behemoths are well positioned to use their influence to squeeze out smaller indie competitors. Notably, groups such as the Ginza Project are lobbying the Moscow Government’s Department of Trade and Services to create regulations imposing a unified look and feel to all of the mobile food units in the capital, higher standards of sanitation, and uniform menus. There is also a suggestion that mobile food unit locations should be put to tender by the City Government, as was done a few years ago with discount sausage kiosks in Moscow.

Such measures would be a death knell for independent entrepreneurs and the range of creative offerings their food trucks are offering. Already, many aspiring food truck owners look to Russia’s regions for a more favorable business climate with less bureaucracy and more scope for development. Food trucks are enjoying not only popularity, but also healthy sales in Russia’s “second tier” cities such as Vladivostok, Nizhny Novgorod, Kazan, and Sochi.

Despite these concerns, nineteen food trucks continued to do brisk business throughout the sunny September afternoon at VDNKh, where Kolesnikova estimated between nine and ten thousand people would attend throughout the day. Long lines stretched before most of the trucks, but by far the longest was in front of a small, colorful truck selling an array of thirst-quenching, naturally-flavored lemonades. These have become very popular in the last two years in Moscow’s trendy restaurants and cafes. In addition to sampling the now ubiquitous offerings of ginger-lemon, sea buckthorn, mojito, and fruit-flavored beverages, I returned three times for a refill of tarragon-flavored lemonade, or “Tarkhun.”

Tarkhun is the doyenne of Russian soft drinks, earning its place in Russia’s culinary canon back in 1887 when a young Georgian apprentice pharmacist, Mitrofan Lagidze, first brewed up a syrup with tarragon leaves. Lagidze wanted to create a domestic and natural alternative to the European syrups used in imperial Russia as sleep and digestion aids. The Tarkhun syrup, when mixed with the naturally-carbonated mineral waters for which Georgia is famous, was an instant success. Its signature brilliant emerald color and slight licorice kick is a Proustian, memory-inciting flavor of Soviet times and of the sultry climes of Georgia.

Lagidze’s name still graces the labels of a new Georgian beverage brand, popular throughout the Former Soviet Union. They won’t give you the exact recipe, but a good approximation is easy to brew up at home.

The addition of fresh citrus zest and juice give this version of Tarkhun a lovely fresh and clean flavor that is perfect over ice or combined with vodka for a cocktail we might call “The Lagidze.”

Even the teetotaling Lenin might close ranks behind that culinary innovation.

Taragon Lemonade {Тархун}

1 large bunch of tarragon “branches”

2 cups of sugar

2 cups of water

⅛-tsp of baking soda

1 tsp of lime zest

2 oz of fresh lime juice

Ice cubes

Sliced lemons and limes for garnish

Stems of tarragon for garnish

Optional: green food coloring

Combine the sugar and water in a heavy-bottomed sauce pan over medium-high heat. Stir to combine, and bring slowly to a boil.

While the sugar/water mixture is coming to a boil, chop the tarragon stems and leaves roughly until you have about a cup.

Remove from heat, add the baking soda, chopped tarragon and lime zest. Cover and let steep for ten minutes.

Process in a blender on its highest speed, then add the ice and citrus juice and process one more time.

If you don’t like little “bits” in your lemonade, you can sieve the mixture through a fine chinois or cheese cloth.

Add the syrup to seltzer or club soda in a 1-1-3 ratio of syrup, fresh lime juice and water. Garnish with fresh tarragon and slices of lemon and/or lime.

Adding both the ice and the baking soda in this recipe help to lock in the brilliant green color the fresh tarragon leaves and stems impart when they are steeped in the simple syrup, however, this will fade in time and revert to a less appealing yellowish color. You can achieve the vibrant Soviet Tarkhun look and feel with a drop of green food coloring, inciting a true “remembrance of things past.”