Well, here it is. Шуба. I asked my taller half this morning what the appropriate layers inside were, since there was some variation in the recipes. “I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll tell you if it’s wrong.”
And here it is before I smoothed out the final layer of mayonnaise. I’m terribly afraid it will be wrong. I made a small one so we can taste it and figure out something else last minute if it is really, really wrong.
My taller half and I are going to a dinner next weekend, with the theme of “Russian food cooked badly.” A kinder way to put it might be “Amateur Russian cuisine night,” because the group is made up out of a few first generation immigrants and people like me, who have studied abroad in Russia and gained some familiarity with the cuisine. If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you might remember that I occasionally make borshch beet soup. My taller half, who came to the US at age 14, has told me that “it’s good, but it’s not borshch.” This might be because I am making a vegetarian version without the traditional beef bone or other bits of meat involved, but really I suspect it’s because I’m not his mother. Read More