Food writer Anna Kharzeeva

1 year (yesterday) since I published The Soviet Diet Cookbook on Amazon!

I celebrated by staying up for most of the night with my sick boy and even calling an ambulance (he's doing better today).

I'd like to look back on the year that's passed and come up with something deep and meaningful to say (or at least try to), but that won't be today.

Today is just one of those banana pancakes for breakfast (and lunch), TV, books in bed no to-do list kinds of days. And that's OK.

More on Soviet humour.

Babushka Lena had her favorite radio station, . It has lots of news, politics, op eds, with some of Russia's brightest, most amazing people working there.

It also has a show that invites people to create funny rhymes, songs and comments on one recent political event.

I mentioned before how providing comic material is of utmost importance to our government, and has been for years. Saying some of what they do outloud could in itself constitute stand up comedy.

Back to that show...granny never missed it. She adored the stuff people would come up with. "So clever, just brilliant" - she'd say, giving it a full belly laugh.

It's only now that I realised, having made myself a cuppa with some Easter eggs and trying to find it online, why she loved that show so much: because it was there, and it was allowed!

For so many years the kinds of jokes people would send it were only told in kitchens and retold in secret. There were always jokes, and they were always fantasctically hilarious ones. But now they are gathered in one show for everyone to hear, and granny was not going to pass that up.

So if we were over, she'd make sure we had our tea, blinchiki, honey or pashtet and go sit on her bed, glued to the radio, laughing out loud.

One special batch of pancakes.

Made by Lyuba, the granddaughter of Valya, who was friends with babushka Lena for 80 years.

Lyuba was raised by Valya, and babushka Lena was often there to help. When Lyuba was 11, she taught her to make pancakes.

15 years later Lyuba brought pancakes to babushka Lena's wake and said she would always remember her.

Valya passed away 2 years ago. Lyuba and I decided to catch up every now and again (we saw each other for the first time in 20 years at babushka Lena's funeral).

Special pancakes, special people.

Someone asked me what makes Russian cuisine different from other cuisines.

While that might be interesting to explore, I'm more keen to find similarities between Russia & the rest of the world.

This shurpa (sherpa, shorpa) is one example of a soup popular across countries. This batch was prepared by my friend , who I interviewed for my Russian life column.

It was my first shurpa (it's most popular in Bashkiria in the Urals) and boy was it good. Now I need to try all the other varieties, too😅😋

Have you tried it?

I often book-end my stories. I’ve always enjoyed reading stories that circle back to the first sentence at the end, and have found myself doing the same thing over and over again. I like how you come back to the beginning with a new appreciation and understanding of where you started. Like looking at a person you just met, then hearing her story and looking at her again, except this time it’s a much deeper gaze.

What I’ve realised just now is that this book-ending, or circle composition, as we call it in Russian, is rooted deeply in life itself, so no wonder we relate well to it.

Recently I’ve had the *overwhelming* privilege of looking after 2 people very dear to my heart: my 3 year old son and my 88 year old grandmother.

 I put my son’s boots on in the morning, and in the afternoon help my grandmother take off her tapochki (Russian for slippers) and put on her “goodbye youth” shoes (Russian for  winter slip ons). I do a song and dance to get my son to eat his soup, and then I talk my grandmother into eating just one more spoon of her meat & rice, and praise both for their efforts. 

As my son gave up on afternoon naps, my grandmother started sleeping during the day. I put on Peppa Pig for my son and then cooking shows and listen to the news with my babushka. 

Both make me cry, both make me smile. Both make me think of the circle. And as I put them on for a video call, I watch them connect and think of how I'll start and end the next story at least on them will inspire me to write.

These are Moun'ka and Moisei, my great grandparents. A couple that got to spend 10 years together.

"I've had many hard times in my life, but also some very happy ones, and among them are 10 years with Moisei" - Moun'ka wrote in a letter to her cousin.

They met at a party when Moun'ka was working at kondergartens and Moisei was a student. She was from Kiev, he was from Poland.

Both were raised as religious Jews, both were embrasing the new realities. They didn't wed officially, as it wasn't really done in those days, as granny tells me.

He was lost in action in 1941. In the 60s, when Moun'ka's sister came to Moscow, she asked her to move to Israel to reunite with her siblings. Moun'ka refused: she was waiting for Moisei to come home.

Moun'ka did have a few suitors after he was gone, but she wasn't interested. She didn't mind the white chrysanthemums they'd send her though, and we, her grandchildren, carried on the flower tradition, even if didn't learn of its origins until we were adults.

P.S. I am not big on Valentine's day, but I thought I'd share this, even if a day late.

“You and your carrot cake” - said a waitress with the biggest, cheekiest smile I’d ever seen. It was my second lunch at that cafe outside Port Elizabeth in South Africa.

Memories of that trip, the sunny day and the sweet waitress who remembered me, and not in the least of the delicious cake have been so strong that my husband will still say “you and your carrot cake” every time I order one.

Today I made my own, following the amazing 's recipe. It was delicious, and reading about Alissa’s memories of snacking on grated carrots with sugar and sour cream reminded me that I used to snack on grated carrots with honey and sunflower oil all the time.

This carrot & caraway cake will now be part of my son’s childhood treat memories, as I will sure be making it again. Also it may have been our lunch today (snow blizzard today, so a treat was in order).

I can’t wait to speak about more childhood memories, Motherfood podcast, Russian women and lots more to Alissa next Wednesday. Join us at noon London/3pm Moscow time (I'll post reminders, too).

And if you're a mum and a foodie, or one of the two, you will love Alissa's podcast!💛

"How is granny?" - my mother-in-law Caye asked yesterday, day before yesterday and most days in the last few weeks.

They've never met and don't have a common language. One grew up in Soviet Moscow, had one daughter, worked as a teacher and program developer and has now lived in her kruschevka (Khruschev 5 storey buildings) apartment of 40 sq.m. for almost 60 years.

The other one grew up in Sydney, was a model 50s housewife, raised 4 kids, lost one as a baby, and has now lived in a house with a garden for about 40 years.

What do they have in common? Well, me for a start😅, but also all the things women go through: loving, giving birth, caring for loved ones, cooking, missing loved ones.

"Nice to see a happy, upbeat person" - said granny after a "chat" to Caye over skype.

As a young woman I strive to process & get inspired by the women who came before me. Also to eat delicious food, and this manka (granny's semolina) with Caye's lemon butter go so well together.

The pistachios on top are for my great grandmother Moun'ka. I'll explain in the next post.

Starting the series of posts dedicated to Russian/Soviet women with the women of my family.

Swipe to see my great grandmother Moun'ka, granny and mum.

When I was writing the Sura Hana, Moun'ka's mum's, chapter of my second book, I realised that she was the last woman in our family never to have had a job. Also the last (until me, hopefully) to have grown old with her husband.

Moun'ka was a primary school and kindergarten teacher, and lost her husband in 1941.

Granny, Elena, was a maths teacher and later program developer, she divorced her husband in the early 80s to be able to join the queue to buy an apartment (they didn't feel like marrying each other again later).

My mum is currently getting her 4th degree (social history), and has been an Italian teacher and enterpreter for over 20 years.

The photo is of me teaching one of my many kids cooking classes. We learned some Russian poetry and made pryaniki (Russian gingerbread) and sbiten (a honey and spice drink).

I remember hearing from an Aussie friend how interested she is in Soviet women, and how they have worked for so long.

It was only then that I realised that not everyone's grandmother and greatgrandmother used to work.

I love talking about women's issues and since March 8 is coming, I'm going to indulge in just that. Join me.

Last time I wrote about being in the midst of historical events. While it's hard, it can also be insightful for someone who loves social history.

My insight has been how quickly we get used to the new way of things. I mean, we may hate it, but it doesn't take too long for something to become the "new normal".

A year ago I was surprised to see people wearing masks on the metro. I thought they must been quite sick to need a mask. Now, naturally, I am surprised to see someone without a mask on.

My great grandmother Mun'ka went from life with her religious, wealthy Jewish family to sharing the family apartment with stangers and struggling to feed herself.

It didn't take long for the change to happen, and I've often wondered how she got used to it. I think I have a slightly better idea now.

I still yearn for the "old normal", which is something I'm working on. Sourdough helps: it came into my life a few months into the pandemic and this change is one I'm happy to welcome into my life, and my kitchen.

What are your thoughts on how we get used to the drastic changes in our lives?

P.S. Second photo is of my babushka and her "gorbushka", or the crusty end of the bread, which has always been her favorite part of bread. And the woman loooves bread💛

It's been 18 months since I left Tbilisi, but Georgia isn't a country you can just leave.

and I had fun reminiscing and making some of our Georgian favorites: lobio, spinach pkhali and ajarian khachapuri🇬🇪

Sending love to me Georgia friends and, unsurprisingly, wishing I could go there.

Also so happy to have met 2 amazing women from Georgia right here on insta: and .chesnakova, you ladies are ❤

P.S. The first photo is of spinach and coriander pkhali on slighly pink (beetroot juice) labneh and, of course, pomegranate. How I miss our pomegranate tree in Tbilisi💔

What are your Georgian favorites?

Merry Christmas, insta family!💛

Last year I put on a pre-revolutionary Russian Christmas party for my family & friends, which was a lot of fun (Russia used to celebrate Christmas on Dec 25 before 1918).

This year I am on my way to a friend's place. It's her first Christmas away from family in France, I feel for her but happy we can be together (and eat delicious French food!)

I am bringing Christmas pudding and a hope for better days.

How are you celebrating?

Big hug💛