More Than Memories: “What’s Cooking in the Kremlin” Brings History to Life

I can already tell this will be one of my top reads of 2024.

In my recent review of The Last Tsar’s Dragons, I mention that “despite sustained interest in Russian history, culture, religion and mythology my knowledge of the Romanov family before reading {that} book was pretty limited . . .”

I would say the same is true for post-Tsar Russia as well.

Of course certain names are likely to be remembered from even the broadest (ahem rudimentary) education. Nicholas II, Rasputin, Stalin, Lenin, and (especially) these days . . . Vladimir Putin.

But how about Lavrenty Beria (leader of the NKVD in 1953), Yuri Gargarin (Soviet Cosmonaut), or Boris Yeltzin (president of Russia before Putin’s first time)? Assuredly these names are lesser known here in the west, or at the very least lesser known in modern times (I wonder how much more familiar these names would be to my parents or any Gen Xers). But they were each important in shaping the Russia we know today . . .

And all these important people had to eat!

This is where What’s Cooking in The Kremlin‘s primary focus lies, in telling the story of the chefs and cooks who kept history fed.

I liked this approach for several reasons. First I think it makes the history a bit more accessible. There is something intimate about a person’s diet that really makes them human. No longer just a name to memorize, or a myth to remember.

Second, hearing the stories of these incredible chefs, in many cases in their own words, really just opened up the culture for me in a way that I don’t think another book could have accomplished. For instance, reading the words of a tour guide at the dacha Lenin spent his final days in, you can really hear the regard with which some Russians still hold him, and perhaps by extension, communism too. Contrast that with the words of a shoemaker turned cook in Afghanistan, or refugees in Crimea, or a survivor of the famine in Ukraine who have no illusions (or none any longer) about ‘The Party’.

I think the author did a good job handling a range of subjects, mixing many facets of history together. Stories about what the cosmonauts ate on the first trips into space were actually quite awe inspiring, while obviously stories about surviving the famine in Ukraine, or the siege of Leningrad were humbling in the extreme.

And then of course there was all of the little details that the book was not ‘about’, but still provided such a unique and interesting picture that you could not help but soak them in. That Stalin’s food taster, Alexander Yakovlevich Egnatashivlili, was called krolik which literally means rabbit, but is used like how we would use the term guinea pig. That (in general) cooks are always under suspicion of stealing, but that it’s also good to have a cook in the family because it means you’re unlikely to starve. And of course, all the many Russian proverbs. One in particular — “To pluck a little from a lot isn’t stealing. It’s fair distribution.” — stuck out to me as perhaps very telling.

But What About the Food?

There was tons of it. Churek, and Kulish, and Salo. Tvorog, and Bigos, and Zazharka. Every page seemed to be filled with the description of some new (to me) dish and often some historical or cultural significance applied to it. And plenty of dishes were not explained at all but familiarity was just assumed (still wondering how does one prepare sturgeon “monastery style”?).

I took sooo many notes about these little (ahem) morsels, and loved to discover them, but obviously the main draw was the actual recipes included within the text. I was really looking forward to trying them out, and forming some kind of connection to these stories that was deeper than just reading . . . that was also tasting and eating.

Unfortunately, I think this was the only part of the book that let me down. I’m not much of a cook, and the recipes within were in many cases quite difficult (or as one of my friends said “the recipes are just vibes”). When cooking for the Tsar, or the President of all of Russia, exotic foods like a specific type of quail (maybe now extinct), or a freshly hunted boar, are not far-fetched, and cool to see how one might handle cooking that however unlikely it would be to actually do it.

But some of the recipes for more common foods also seemed needlessly vague or difficult to reproduce. I tried making Shchi (a kind of cabbage soup), and got about halfway through cooking it before I realized that following the recipe exactly was actually not helpful in the slightest.

It could just be that I’m inexperienced, and a better cook might have had an easier time, but I unfortunately was not up to the task.

Give this One a Read?

Despite my difficulties in the kitchen I had a tremendous time reading this book. I cannot say that all of the topics covered within are roses and sunshine, in fact, mostly they are not, but the stories told here are powerful and deeply meaningful anyway.

If you’re looking for something a little different, I highly recommend this one.

That’s all I have to say for this week. Has anyone read this one yet? What were your thoughts? Do you have a favorite Russian dish? Let me know in the comments.

Until next time . . .

When Dragons Disappoint: A Review of The Last Tsar’s Dragons

Surely it must be a pretty easy thing to write a compelling book about the Romanovs. Much like the Ancient Egyptian pharaohs, for three hundred years the name alone was synonymous with God.

As historian Simon Sebag Montefoire writes it, the legacy of their family is:

“Blood-spattered, gold-plated, diamond-studded, swash-buckled, bodice-ripping and star-crossed, the rise and fall of the Romanovs remains as fascinating as it is relevant, as human as it is strategic, a chronicle of fathers and sons, megalomaniacs and saints.”
-pg 59 of The Romanovs

Action, violence, political intrigue and sex . . . Revolution! Add dragons, and you should have yourself a regular old Game of Thrones on your hands. Or at the very least, something as good as Shadow and Bone.

For me — somehow — The Last Tsar’s Dragons didn’t quite hit this (albeit) high mark.

Admittedly, despite my sustained interest in Russian history, culture, religion and mythology, my knowledge of the Romanov family before reading this book was pretty limited and mostly encapsulated by the 1997 animated film Anastasia starring Meg Ryan and John Cusack.

I understood on a pretty superficial level that an awful monarchy had been violently deposed and that an equally terrible “communist” government had filled the power vacuum (I suppose somewhere along the way I’d seen Dr. Zhivago too).

It never felt like a time in Russia’s history that should be romanticized, and generally had not held much interest to me. However, seeing the silhouettes of dragons circling Moscow’s iconic onion domes on the cover of The Last Tsar’s Dragons, I was ready to revise my previous opinion.

I was ready to see the city of Moscow wreathed in dragon flame, revolutionaries pouring through the streets like the sack of Troy. Or perhaps we’d see dragons swoop in to clutch victory for the Tsar from the jaws of defeat at some important battle. Or a lone “Снайпер” taking pot shots at the flying beasts.

What we receive instead certainly does not fall prey to romanticizing the time period or its subjects.

Tsar Nicholas II is called stupid by nearly every character within the book though we do not actually see him really do anything stupid except maybe towards the end as he gets very little screen time. Rasputin is shown to be the least holy of priests, and the narrator is shown to be at times both incompetent and lascivious depending on the situation.

It is honestly difficult to figure out who to root for within the novella as none of the characters are particularly sympathetic. I believe we are (probably) supposed to root for the Tsarina, Alexandra Feodorovna, who at least seems to care for her son. Since the dragons are sent out to kill Jews, it would seem we are also supposed to sympathize with Bronstein, but again, we do not spend much time with him or any other Jewish characters.

Mostly, it seems like we’re engaged in watching Rasputin be awful . . . Which I guess was not really what I had hoped for.

Also, its clear from the author’s note that the authors took a good deal of time researching Russian history, weaving the tale within that framework, and sprinkling in Russian words like babushka and muzhik (I think their spelling is Mujeck) to make the world feel more real.

But I couldn’t help but notice a few little things like Rasputin eating ‘a blini’ when blini is already plural (just blin is the singular form of what looks to be a delicious pancake that you probably can’t eat just one of haha).

Finally, just a personal preference, but I wish we would have learned the name of the narrator even though I didn’t find him particularly compelling. Rasputin calls him ‘Kozzle’ at one point which I think is supposed to reference the word козел which I think means goat, but also asshole? Would have been nice to have had that mystery solved by the end.

Give This One A Read?

If you’re looking for something fantasy that has to do with Russia, technically this book fits that definition, but I would not rush to read this one.

The author’s note mentions that it was originally a short story which was expanded into a novella. Perhaps this can account for what I would consider a meandering pace, and the difficulty I had even figuring out which character to root for. I may give the short story a try just to compare but ultimately, I think there is better Russian inspired fantasy out there.

What did y’all think? Have I missed the mark? What did you like best or least in this one? Let me know in the comments.