So how did I end up with 3 jars of pickles in my fridge? Well, the American ones were too garlicky, the German ones were too soggy and sweet, and the Russian ones struck a nice balance (heavy on dill).
The Russian ones come from the Lacomka Bakery, Eastern European heaven, which has deli and canned items as well and a couple of tables in the back. You can pick up black bread, kasha, strong tea, smoked fish, wild strawberry preserves, mushrooms (heavily brined, though), the aforementioned pickles, and frozen pelmeny, vareniky and manty (all dumplings). You can also sit in a back room painted to look like a dacha in a birch forest and have a light meal. Or not so light--heavy on the carbs, anyhow.
A few days ago Pat & I went out for lunch. Since we both work at home, we often lose touch with the rest of humanity, except for our nearest and dearest. So from time to time we make a point of going out for lunch. The Slovak place was closed, so we went to the Russian place, and HORROR OF HORRORS! they were out of borscht. So we made do with pelmeny, which they serve with sour cream (I serve it with sour cream AND melted chive butter.), and, for Pat, stuffed cabbage. ONE slice of bread, no butter, presumably for Pat. She cast a glance at my tea and remarked that it looked awfully strong. Nichevo! (Never mind!) That's the way I make it myself, the rare once in a while that I do make it.
At home we have an antique brass samovar (pinkish, so probably high copper content), which belonged to my grandfather or great-grandfather and which I've always wanted to put into use. My mother huffed something about who needs the trouble, it's bad enough having to polish the blamed thing, but I'm still tempted.
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