Thanksgiving cooking in a Russian kitchen is officially the hardest thing I've had to do in my life.
Okay, so maybe that's not true, strictly speaking-- but it's pretty darn close. Especially in an apartment, cooking an entire Thanksgiving meal can be something akin to trying to juggle while riding a unicycle on a high wire so that you can jump through a ring of fire. Seriously.
Starting off: If you are ever an American in that particular position of needing to make something for Thanksgiving, be aware: the kitchen will be small, there won't be many pans, the utensils will all be different than you're used to, the ingredients will be hard to find, the measurements will be weird, and timing everything will be one of the most hassle-filled and frustrating things you will ever experience.
In other words, doing Thanksgiving in Russia is totally worth it.
Yesterday, Princess and I spent the entire day cooking-- and, of course, when I say cooking, I mean fighting through technical difficulties.
LESSON LEARNED #1: There's more bum yeast in Russia. The same thing that happened the first time I made the pirozhki (remember the whole depressing episode where I nearly cried because all the yeast were dying?) happened yet again, this time with an entirely different recipe. In fact, one would think there was absolutely no way the yeast could die this time, as the recipe calls for letting the bread rise in the refrigerator, and that exactly what I did; and yet, somehow, the morning after, I returned to see that the dough had not risen one bit. (Texture was right, appearance was right, and yet the yeast died. All this to prove that I'm somehow dumber than yeast.)
LESSON LEARNED #2: If you need an ingredient, there's a high likelihood they won't have it. For example, one ingredient that one would think would be important is a turkey-- tends to be the main dish, has special meaning. And yet, after a night of looking through stores, there was not a turkey to be found. So we had Thanksgiving chicken. It was tasty, but it just doesn't have the same ring to it.
LESSON LEARNED #3: If given a choice, cook with someone who's used to eyeballing things; otherwise, the conversions are just bizarre. Also, do not trust google. (There is no way humanly possible that 750g flour equals 6 cups. It's more like three. Maybe four. Maybe.)
These are just a few of the lessons learned from yesterday's Thanksgiving battle-- er, I mean, dinner. It could be quite frustrating, but in the end, I think the entire experience was worth it. Far better than having Italian food in a restaurant for Thanksgiving.
Okay, so maybe that's not true, strictly speaking-- but it's pretty darn close. Especially in an apartment, cooking an entire Thanksgiving meal can be something akin to trying to juggle while riding a unicycle on a high wire so that you can jump through a ring of fire. Seriously.
Starting off: If you are ever an American in that particular position of needing to make something for Thanksgiving, be aware: the kitchen will be small, there won't be many pans, the utensils will all be different than you're used to, the ingredients will be hard to find, the measurements will be weird, and timing everything will be one of the most hassle-filled and frustrating things you will ever experience.
In other words, doing Thanksgiving in Russia is totally worth it.
Yesterday, Princess and I spent the entire day cooking-- and, of course, when I say cooking, I mean fighting through technical difficulties.
LESSON LEARNED #1: There's more bum yeast in Russia. The same thing that happened the first time I made the pirozhki (remember the whole depressing episode where I nearly cried because all the yeast were dying?) happened yet again, this time with an entirely different recipe. In fact, one would think there was absolutely no way the yeast could die this time, as the recipe calls for letting the bread rise in the refrigerator, and that exactly what I did; and yet, somehow, the morning after, I returned to see that the dough had not risen one bit. (Texture was right, appearance was right, and yet the yeast died. All this to prove that I'm somehow dumber than yeast.)
LESSON LEARNED #2: If you need an ingredient, there's a high likelihood they won't have it. For example, one ingredient that one would think would be important is a turkey-- tends to be the main dish, has special meaning. And yet, after a night of looking through stores, there was not a turkey to be found. So we had Thanksgiving chicken. It was tasty, but it just doesn't have the same ring to it.
LESSON LEARNED #3: If given a choice, cook with someone who's used to eyeballing things; otherwise, the conversions are just bizarre. Also, do not trust google. (There is no way humanly possible that 750g flour equals 6 cups. It's more like three. Maybe four. Maybe.)
These are just a few of the lessons learned from yesterday's Thanksgiving battle-- er, I mean, dinner. It could be quite frustrating, but in the end, I think the entire experience was worth it. Far better than having Italian food in a restaurant for Thanksgiving.
No comments:
Post a Comment