For all you foodies

We just had a great lunch in an “Old Russia” restaurant — like dining in the summer house at the dacha — more like manor house or small palace.  We had been in the building through one door the other day and it was a cafeteria, OK food, nothing special.  But I saw this other door today and went in it — wow what a difference!  Interior started out similar, walls that looked like a log cabin, but after giving our coats to the cloak room and going down these very dark, kinda steep stairs, through the bar, we stepped into a lovely room that looked quite elegant, maybe like a smoking room in said manor house or palace.  The hostess asked if we wanted nonsmoking, we  said yes, so she gestured into another room and a hall that looked like the way to the WC, but, yea, we went the other direction, through another little anteroom, into these private rooms that look liked porches or gazeboes  — you get the idea.  Wallpaper murals on the walls of our cubicle were of birch trees, another giant, many-limbed tree that we didn’t recognize — maybe an oak? — and the manor/palace just behind.  Laird sat on the satin settee and I sat in a chair, silver candelabra on the table.  And so it began.  Daniel, you would have loved it:  5 pages of appetizers and hors d’ oeurves (not sure why those aren’t synonyms, but you foodies probably know), cold and hot; then  a page of soups; a page of fish dishes; four pages of game and other meats; two pages of dessert.  Laird had salad Madam (with orange and grapefruit), cream of mushroom soup and beef stroganoff.  Our breads were the best I’ve had here.  I had Russian salad (which turns out to be American salad — green salad with veggies), cream of spinach soup and cutlet of roe deer and wild boar with wild cranberry sauce.  YUUUMMMMM!  Served on fine china.  I also had a glass of wine along with tea.  To start, when the waitress, dressed in a long, old-fashioned dress, brought the bread she also brought us each a small glass of some kind of berry wine, just a little sweet and nice.  Alas, Laird did not have his camera so no pictures.  As you can imagine, we were too stuffed to even think of dessert.  It was  lovely, leisurely lunch — so fun.  And the best part was that my credit card worked.  When we went shopping the other day, I think the woman didn’t know how to use non-smart-chip-American-not-European-credit-cards — the message that came back was “account closed”.  Same thing happened with Laird’s card.  Needless to say we were a little freaked thinking that our cards didn’t work, since we have a month to go on vacation.  Laird had to go get money, but for some reason his card wouldn’t work in the bank either.  So then he had to come back to the store, get cash from me, back to bank, oops, they didn’t like one of the $100 bills, so back to me to exchange, back to bank, back finally for final time with cash in hand to liberate our souvenirs.  Luckily the bank was in the same building and on the same floor as the souvenir shop.

Renee, speaking of that vertical mall or whatever it is, if I knew your shoe size and had money I would have bought you a pair of shoes.  One whole floor of this place is filled with shoes — we couldn’t tell if it was one shoe store or many, but I saw so many shoes you would have liked!  I want to know how even young women can walk on ice in high heel shoes — and when I say high heels, I mean stilettos.  It’s freezing cold and ice or slush is everywhere and here come these women in stilettos, very short skirts and sometimes fur jackets or some other fashionable outerwear.  Women here are extremely fashion conscious.  You have never seen such fashionable women! One woman in one of our classes has a sweater with one whole shoulder of fur — it looks real, but what do I know?  Of course, I only saw it once because you cannot be seen wearing the same thing more than once — well, maybe in a couple of weeks and to different classes, or on a date going somewhere you will not meet anyone who might have seen you in the same outfit.  Oh, and the fingernails, manicured and painted with designs.  The women are beautiful, well groomed and slender — oh I remember youth (though not with so much fashion, ever)! 

We were going back downtown for a couple of things — we had a successful run to the post office this morning and now have boxes to pack stuff in to ship — but poor Laird’s foot is hurting way too much, so we came home so he could take aspirin and ice it.  Maybe later.  I felt so sorry for him, though, limping to university, then limping much worse  home.  To top it off, carrying his computer bag hurt his hip and he was afraid to let me carry it walking on ice — he decided hurting was better than having to pick me up off the sidewalk, I guess.  I cudda done it; I know I cudda!  Anyway, I sure hope the aspirin and ice do the trick — I know from vast experience  that hurting and traveling don’t go well together.  Luckily, I’ve had pretty good luck, my back is not terrible — though sitting on hard student seating for three hours straight for three days was pretty tough on the old periformis or whatever the hell it is that hurts on me.  I’ve gotten very good at walking up five flights of stairs, then down partway, then up again, then down two floors, up one, find the bathroom floor up or down, down for lunch, up for tea, many times a day.  You get the idea.  But I’m pretty sure that all that walking hasn’t done anything to mitigate the mayonnaise!

Fashion backwardly yours, jm