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magpiesnest's review against another edition
5.0
Fascinating social history of the Soviet Union told through food.
leslielu67's review against another edition
5.0
I picked this book up on a whim, partly because of the title and partly because of the book cover (yes, I am that shallow). It is a fascinating memoir of food, family and growing up in the USSR; the author had family that was both part of the establishment (WWII hero granddad, with accompanying privileges) and part of the non-establishment (mother held her out of school on the day all kids made the pledge to the Young Pioneer group). The author was a black marketeer at an early age (Juice Fruit). Added bonusus: experiences as an emigree to America (the bit about bananas is funny), what kept the USSR together and what broke it apart (hint: the same thing), and recipes at the back!
amycrea's review against another edition
4.0
Really enjoyed this memoir of growing up in the Soviet Union, then experiencing the culture shock of moving to the U.S. Food--its acquisition, preparation, enjoyment--is the framing device, although along the way it also becomes a larger picture of Soviet life and history.
ajreader's review against another edition
3.0
Read my full thoughts over at Read.Write.Repeat.
I enjoyed Van Bremzen's story more than I expected. I appreciate having a more complete view of Soviet history now, particularly from someone whose family experienced it first hand. Von Bremzen is a good writer and makes even the heavy historical sections enjoyable.
The only downside? I am still convinced that Russian food is not for me.
I enjoyed Van Bremzen's story more than I expected. I appreciate having a more complete view of Soviet history now, particularly from someone whose family experienced it first hand. Von Bremzen is a good writer and makes even the heavy historical sections enjoyable.
The only downside? I am still convinced that Russian food is not for me.
pattydsf's review against another edition
3.0
“It was my mother, my frequent co-conspirator in the kitchen and my conduit to our past, who suggested the means to convey this epic disjunction, this unruly collision of collectivist myths and personal antimyths. We would reconstruct every decade of Soviet history - from the prequel 1910s to the postscript present day - through the prism of food. Together, we'd embark on a yearlong journey unlike any other: eating and cooking our way through decade after decade of Soviet life, using her kitchen and dining room as a time machine and an incubator of memories.
When I was growing up, the Soviet Union was our enemy. It took me a long time to figure out the connections between Russia and the USSR (history wasn’t my strong suit). When I was in high school, dissent literature was trickling out of the Soviet Union and I read Solzhenitsyn’s The Cancer Ward and it confirmed my vague ideas about the evil Soviet regime. I learned about other countries, but I was never very interested in this one. Even after the Berlin Wall came down and the Eastern Bloc fell apart, I didn’t spend much time thinking about that part of our globe.
It is amazing what I will read when food is involved. I really like reading about people and their relationship to cooking, meals, gardening – anything about food. So when someone suggested I might like this book, I checked it out of my public library. I found Bremzen’s food reminisces really interesting.
I was not expecting, however, to learn a lot about Soviet history along with their food. That was foolish on my part because food is part of history. If a country has an abundant food supply, it is very different from one with scarce resources. Major parts of any country’s culture is based around food.
So, once again, I had found a way to learn a lot from a story. I got to learn about Bremzen’s life, but also, I learned about her culture and her country’s history. I had a lot of fun doing it.
When I was growing up, the Soviet Union was our enemy. It took me a long time to figure out the connections between Russia and the USSR (history wasn’t my strong suit). When I was in high school, dissent literature was trickling out of the Soviet Union and I read Solzhenitsyn’s The Cancer Ward and it confirmed my vague ideas about the evil Soviet regime. I learned about other countries, but I was never very interested in this one. Even after the Berlin Wall came down and the Eastern Bloc fell apart, I didn’t spend much time thinking about that part of our globe.
It is amazing what I will read when food is involved. I really like reading about people and their relationship to cooking, meals, gardening – anything about food. So when someone suggested I might like this book, I checked it out of my public library. I found Bremzen’s food reminisces really interesting.
I was not expecting, however, to learn a lot about Soviet history along with their food. That was foolish on my part because food is part of history. If a country has an abundant food supply, it is very different from one with scarce resources. Major parts of any country’s culture is based around food.
So, once again, I had found a way to learn a lot from a story. I got to learn about Bremzen’s life, but also, I learned about her culture and her country’s history. I had a lot of fun doing it.
armlesscarl's review against another edition
3.0
Overall, I enjoyed the discussion of Russian history intertwined with personal and familial experiences. While food played a large role in the author’s life, that feeling did not come across in this book. 80% of this book is a description of Russian history and while I enjoy learning about it, it wasn’t my expectation of reading this book. The way the book begins is not how the book continues. Do not expect consistency in stories or chronology. If you enjoy Russian history, I recommend this book, but do not anticipate a lot of food in the way this book is described.
thematinee's review against another edition
4.0
I've long had this quiet desire to visit the culturally-rich (yet WILDLY intimidating) land of Russia. This book stoked that quiet desire immensely.
I'm also really craving borscht now...
I'm also really craving borscht now...
beths0103's review against another edition
3.0
I enjoyed the parts of the book where Von Bremzen talks about her life, but I found the history parts to be a bit dry and difficult to trudge through.
Plus, I didn't entirely buy the whole food premise of the book. It seemed forced into the narrative - probably because she doesn't really talk much in this book about how food writing became her career. What felt most natural was when the author talked about her life in the Soviet Union and how she emigrated to America.
Plus, I didn't entirely buy the whole food premise of the book. It seemed forced into the narrative - probably because she doesn't really talk much in this book about how food writing became her career. What felt most natural was when the author talked about her life in the Soviet Union and how she emigrated to America.
liliya_klein's review against another edition
5.0
So my interest in the Soviet world is a little biased, but I don't think it detracts from the fact that this is a fine book. Well written with new insights that I wouldn't have gotten in a historical book.
"The Queue consists entirely of fragments of ochered’ dialogue, a linguistic vernacular anchored by the long-suffering word stoyat’ (to stand). You stood? Yes, stood. Three hours. Got damaged ones. Wrong size. Here’s what the line wasn’t: a gray inert nowhere. Imagine instead an all-Soviet public square, a hurly-burly where comrades traded gossip and insults, caught up with news left out of the newspapers, got into fistfights, or enacted comradely feats. In the thirties the NKVD had informers in queues to assess public moods, hurrying the intelligence straight to Stalin’s brooding desk. Lines shaped opinions and bred ad hoc communities: citizens from all walks of life standing, united by probably the only truly collective authentic Soviet emotions: yearning and discontent (not to forget the unifying hostility toward war veterans and pregnant women, honored comrades allowed to get goods without a wait)."
"The Queue consists entirely of fragments of ochered’ dialogue, a linguistic vernacular anchored by the long-suffering word stoyat’ (to stand). You stood? Yes, stood. Three hours. Got damaged ones. Wrong size. Here’s what the line wasn’t: a gray inert nowhere. Imagine instead an all-Soviet public square, a hurly-burly where comrades traded gossip and insults, caught up with news left out of the newspapers, got into fistfights, or enacted comradely feats. In the thirties the NKVD had informers in queues to assess public moods, hurrying the intelligence straight to Stalin’s brooding desk. Lines shaped opinions and bred ad hoc communities: citizens from all walks of life standing, united by probably the only truly collective authentic Soviet emotions: yearning and discontent (not to forget the unifying hostility toward war veterans and pregnant women, honored comrades allowed to get goods without a wait)."