zakuski

Russian food is the latest and greatest trend. OK, I don’t really care what the latest and greatest trend is. But I am gaga over Russian food right now in this, the endless Oregon summer…

It must be, I think dreamily, like an endless Russian summer, so impossibly short and crammed with fresh berries and beets and onions and herring and sweet new potatoes and greens that one can’t believe it will ever be dark and cold and time for fur hats again…

…then I’m off to St. Petersburg and I’m Anna Karenina, pining with love. The injustice. The peasants in the fields drinking kvass. And I’m Orlando on the ice, spinning, spinning…

Oh wait, that’s not summer. Or happy. Nvrmnd.

I’m a dacha garden, smartly lined rows, outgreening my brethren in the smiling sun. And I’m a yellow kvass truck, chugging down the thoroughfare, children chasing me. And I’m billows of rich, sour cream. And I’m a squat dumpling filled with beef and veal and chives, waiting to be bitten and my juices drunk. And I’m soft loose berry preserves, waiting for tea.

Sigh.

I have taken the opportunity to indulge in Portland’s trifecta of Russian eateries (as reported by my dinner companion, ex-Eugenius and current Merc food critic Andrea Damewood here): Chef Vitaly Paley’s glorious pop-up, DaNet; the Sellwood food cart Russian Horse; and the truly marvelous Kachka. And I can’t get enough. (Above, pirogies at Russian Horse and a cocktail featuring a fur coat of olive oil and smoked trout salad at DaNet.)

A quick Russian luncheon dish, then, a 20th century working man’s classic, Seledka pod Shuboi, or more familiarly, “Herring Under a Fur Coat.” According to legend (and the link above), salted herring symbolizes the proletariat, potatoes symbolizes the peasantry, beets symbolize Bolshevik blood and the mayonnaise symbolizes, um, French people who also did that whole Revolution thing. Shuba is not only the acronym for “Shovinismu i Upadku – Boikot i Anafema,” or familiarly, “Death and Damnation to Chauvinism and Degradation,” but also the word for fur coat.

Death and Damnation to Chauvinism and Degradation!!!!!

Luckily, I happened to have on hand some salted herring in oil, purchased at the Good Neighbor Market in Portland after being yelled at by a little old Russian man for my idiocy in not understanding that he wanted me to help him thread his arms with his grocery sac so he could carry it like a backpack. I’ve bought salted herring at Newman’s in Eugene, but not in oil — perhaps you’d need to oil it yourself. (Above is the market’s sign and some beautifully burnished metallic-hued smoked mackerel).

My version of death and damnation contains yellow beets, since I didn’t have any Bolshevik blood handy, and it substitutes homemade sour cream with just a touch of Hellman’s for the mayo. Vive la Résistance!

You might think of this as a herring-laced version of the midwestern modern classic, 24-hour salad. It’s a pressed, molded savory cake of love.

Herring Under a Fur Coat

Using a plate as a base, mound up layers of cooked grated veg and chopped salted herring in oil: potatoes on the bottom, then herring, then onion. Rest.

Pour a little sour cream over. And a little dill? Or a grated dill pickle? Then add carrot, beet, and the rest of the sour cream.

Grate some hardboiled egg on top and add a bit more dill.

Carefully mold into a cake shape, pressing with your hands to solidify the shape, and wrap in saran wrap then refrigerate overnight to let the layers combine.

Eat as a crowning achievement, or as a centerpiece to a workaday zakuski party.

When we think of Russia, we think frozen tundra, right? Fur muffs, velvet, vodka to stay warm, mushrooms, ice fishing, big bearlike men with frost in their beards, hunkering down in a sleigh, etc. But Russia in the summer flowers open and bloom, just as Oregon does, and Russians swiftly adjust to a lighter palate in the heat, just as we do.

Thus, it should be no surprise that there are wonderful specialties, all inflected with that particularly Russian kaleidoscope of assertive flavors. One of these is okroshka, a mixed-vegetable cold soup based on the fermented rye beverage called kvass (pictured below). There are as many version of okroshka as there are Russians; after making kvass earlier this month, I knew I’d have to try an adaptation of Sandor Katz’s recipe in Wild Fermentation, with apple, new potatoes, baby turnips, spring onion, cucumber, carrot and dill (above).

So what better way than to have a casual zakuski party? Zakuski are small plates, served up as a buffet, usually as a prelude to a larger meal. Pickled and fermented foods are crucial: sweet-sour beets, sauerkraut salad, marinated herring, half-sour pickles, caviar. And it’s not a Russian party if there isn’t sour cream — I made do with my homemade crème fraîche. We suffer. There are usually hot and cold dishes among the variety. But it was a summer night and time was short, so we went with cold salads, smoked fish, and the lovely okroshka. Vodka cocktails and a dense chocolate cake with brandied cherries made by my fabulous neighbor bookended the meal.

And yes, my bowls do say “Hustle Cat.” Translated in Russian, it means “Only The Finest China Used Here.” I’ll drink to that.

Zakuski Party Menu

Black Cherry Vodka Shrub Spritzers
Half sour cucumber pickles and California wine-marinated kalamata olives
Okroshka cold kvass soup with apple
Dilled tiny new potato salad
Sweet-sour marinated beets
Sauerkraut and carrot salad
Creamy marinated herring
Lox
Crab and roe spread (thanks, Ikea!)
Bread from Noisette Pastry Kitchen
White Bordeaux, French rosé of some sort, Beaujolais, another bottle of red? It grows hazy at this point.
Chocolate cake with brandied cherries
Port