Russian

A splash of fish sauce adds instant umami in author Beth Nguyen’s take on this classic dish.

Kachka chef Bonnie Morales insists it’s not a Russian party without this retro seafood salad on the table.

When braised in a tart brine, gizzards are truly delectable! This is an easy dish to serve guests, as it can be made a day in advance and reheated. Cooked barley is a perfect side to soak up the rich sauce.

Classic Russian cheese pancakes have a tangy-sweet flavor that goes well with a dollop of jam or sour cream on the side.

This flavored salt takes its name from Russian monks who flavored blackened salt with herbs from the monastery gardens.

Quickly shallow-frying chicken halves locks in their juices and yields crispy, golden-brown skin. Serve them with garlicky potatoes, fried shallots, and dill.

I originally designed this recipe for wild snow geese, and because many of California's snow geese spend their summers on Wrangel Island, near Siberia, it seemed fitting to give the stew a Russian feel. But of course the legs of any goose or duck, wild or domesticated, will work here. It's important to remove the meat from the bones before you serve this stew, otherwise everyone will be picking through their bowls for small, sharp objects. It takes only a few minutes, and your family and friends will thank you for it. This stew keeps well in the fridge for a week, though the grain in it will continue to swell over time, absorbing moisture and making this more like a French potage. It also freezes well.

Mom's Russian "Hamburgers" Kotleti for lunch, kotleti for dinner, kotleti of beef, of pork, of fish, of chicken—even kotleti of minced carrots or beets. The entire USSR pretty much lived on these cheap, delicious fried patties, and when comrades didn't make them from scratch, they bought them at stores. Back in Moscow, Mom and I harbored a secret passion for the proletarian, six-kopek variety produced by the meat-processing plant named after Stalin's food supply commissar, Anastas Mikoyan. Inspired by his 1936 trip to America, Mikoyan wanted to copy Yankee burgers in Russia, but somehow the bun got lost in the shuffle and the country got hooked on mass-produced kotleti instead. Deliciously greasy, petite, and with a heavy industrial breading that fried up to a wicked crunch, Mikoyan factory patties could be scarfed down by the dozen. Wild with nostalgia, Mom and I tried a million times to recreate them at home, but no luck: some manufactured treats just can't be duplicated. So we always reverted back to Mom's (far more noble) homemade version. Every ex-Soviet cook has a special trick for making juicy, savory patties. Some add crushed ice, others tuck in pats of butter or mix in a whipped egg white. My mother likes her kotleti Odessa-style (garlicky!), and adds mayo as binding instead of the usual egg, with delightful results. The same formula works with ground turkey or chicken or fish. Buckwheat kasha makes a nostalgic Russian accompaniment. Ditto thin potato batons slowly pan-fried with onions in lots of butter or oil. I love cold kotleti for lunch the next day, with some dense dark bread, hot mustard, and a good crunchy dill pickle.

Wiśniówka "Life is dandy, cherry brandy!" So goes a line from a poem by Russian writer Osip Mandelstam—meant to be ironic, of course, as he lived in the darkest days of Stalinism and died in the Gulag. Cherry brandy, cherry vodka, cherry liqueurs: These are the obvious consequence of Eastern Europe's famous and abundant cherry orchards, of which there are just as many in Poland as there are in provincial Russia. Do note that this recipe works for any kind of fruit that is not too sweet. In particular it is worth trying with black currants or Polish jagody—wild blueberries—if you can find them. The quantities given here are for a 34-oz/1-L jar, but do reduce them (or increase them!) in proportion to the bottle you are using.

This appetizer is a total fake-out and a lot of fun to serve. Ellen and Portia absolutely loved these the first time I served them. They both had fond memories attached to caviar, and this recipe brought back those fun times without compromising their vegan diet. Serve these little morsels with a glass of Champagne and share them with some cool friends.

Few Americans have ever had the real thing, probably because the frozen and cafeteria concoctions have given this old and rather rich dish a bad name. But it’s a simple preparation and a nice one; serve over buttered noodles or plain white rice or with bread. This is a good place to use beef tenderloin, because the cooking is quick and the meat should be tender. Both the mushrooms and the tomatoes are optional; the dish is perfectly fine without either or with both. Other cuts of meat you can use here: boneless veal shoulder or round.

Made throughout the Balkans, into Russia and Turkey, this is essentially a chopped vegetable—it can be almost anything—combined with a strong version of Tarator (page 600). It can be eaten alone or used as a spread or as a dip for pita. Most people let it sit for a few hours before serving, which allows the garlic to mellow and the flavors to marry. This isn’t a bad idea, but if you’re in a hurry, plunge right in. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: eggplant (roasted or quickly boiled, as in Eggplant Salad with Mustard-Miso Dressing, page 185); red beans, cooked until tender; green beans; spinach or other greens.

Savory pies are favorites in Russia, and cabbage pie is the most common. I have not been there, but my friend Jacqueline Mitchell has, and she returned with this, certainly the easiest cabbage pie ever. I think it is best suited as an appetizer or a snack, but it’s an odd dish, good hot or at room temperature, mysteriously simple, and quite glorious when it’s done. Other vegetables you can prepare this way: any cabbage (red will not look too great, though it will taste fine), including Savoy and Napa.

The story about this so-called Russian classic is that it was created by a nineteenth-century French chef, M. Olivier, who ran The Hermitage, a famous restaurant in Moscow. It is essentially a potato salad–chicken salad combo and, as such, eminently useful. This recipe outlines the basic salad; you can improvise as you would for Salade Niçoise (page 196).

This is best when you have freshly made sauerkraut—especially a whole head, which you can sometimes find at Eastern European specialty markets. There will, of course, be times when that’s impossible, and then you must turn to packaged sauerkraut. This is not a problem as long as you steer clear of the canned stuff and look for that packed in plastic bags, containing nothing but cabbage and salt. Serve this strong, tart salad with a hearty meat dish, like “Deviled” Pork Chops (page 362), Baeckoffe of Pork and Lamb (page 399), or Carbonnade (page 385).

This classic Russian soup is rich and full of complex flavors. While there are probably as many versions as there are families, the key ingredient is always sauerkraut. (It’s best served with a whole head of soured cabbage, but you’re going to have trouble finding that; just stick with good sauerkraut, sold in bulk or in plastic packages, which contains nothing but cabbage and salt.) This is one of those soups that pretty much requires good stock, and it’s nice to make it especially for this dish, because the beef is a good addition. If you don’t have time (or you’re a vegetarian), use premade stock or make a quick vegetable stock with the bay leaf, parsley, carrots, onions, and celery.

This is what I think of as real coffee cake—not extraordinarily sweet and for some people not even a dessert. If you want it more cakelike, double the sugar in the dough and consider adding a couple more tablespoons of butter. But this is wonderful with a cup of coffee in the afternoon or toasted, with a little butter, in the morning. With the food processor, this dough becomes quite quick to make; just keep the processing to a minimum. You want to avoid building up the gluten in the flour so it doesn’t become tough. If you don’t feel like braiding the dough (it really is fun, though, and takes only a few extra minutes), by all means bake this in a loaf pan.

This “caviar,” most commonly spread on toast, is little more than sautéed mushrooms, but with an unusual texture and a decidedly Russian character. Do not mince the mushrooms too finely or they will become pasty.

Pelmeni were traditionally frozen before cooking (they’re from Siberia; one would just make a few hundred, throw them in a bag, and put the bag in a barn or outdoors), and some people insist that they’re best when frozen first, though I cannot imagine why that would be. But all dumplings can be frozen successfully after filling and can even be cooked directly from the freezer. Just make sure they’re floured enough to prevent sticking during freezing, or the dough might tear. You may not use all of this filling, but it’s best not to run short. As with pot stickers (Wor Teep, page 63), be sure not to overfill the dumplings or the seams will burst. Any combination of meats will do well as a filling here. If you grind your own, it will be even better; the meat should be ground quite finely. Though the butter suffices as a sauce, you can serve these with sour cream as well if you like.

Whether the noodle and wrappers made from its dough moved west from China or east from Italy is anyone’s guess, but it wound up everywhere. There is barely a square mile of turf between Mongolia and Hungary that doesn’t boast some kind of dumpling, and the variety is staggering. (And, if you consider the ravioli and empanada dumplings, they are universal.) But though shape and filling vary wildly, the doughs are pretty much the same throughout the world: they’re made either with egg or without. These are mostly made with, making the dough essentially the same as that used for fresh pasta.

Introduced to Vietnam by the French as salade russe, this salad is a fine example of how Viet cooking blurs culinary and cultural traditions. Home cooks incorporated it into their repertoire, and I grew up treating it as any other Viet vegetable dish. During the summer, my mother served it with roasted chicken that had been marinated in garlic and Maggi Seasoning sauce. While there are many versions of this salad, I prefer combining the three root vegetables with chopped egg and a creamy herb vinaigrette. Use red beets for a beautiful magenta salad, pink or golden beets for a jewel-toned salad. For an interesting barbecue menu, serve the salad with Grilled Lemongrass Pork Riblets (page 145), Grilled Corn with Scallion Oil (page 183), and a lightly dressed green salad.