The bookstore is filled to the brim with customers hauling out stacks of books with such grim determination you’d think books are about to be banned. Normally, my father would be here with me, and he’d say, as usual, “Ah, so these are the stupid, soulless Americans who don’t read that propaganda always tells us about!”
This year we are starting with Soviet-era decorated salads early in the season. This one is called “Snow mounds”. Boiled potatoes, beef, mushrooms, boiled carrots, garlic and herb stuffed eggs, shaved parmesan, and the substance for the ingestion of which all Soviet recipes existed. (Whoever knows what substance I mean wins).