http://www.npr.org/blogs/thesalt/2014/02/14/277043707/drink-vodka-eat-pickles-repeat-mastering-the-zakuski-spread?
The URL above to is to a gem of a site shared by one of my fellow TCG fellows. The site is NPR's The Salt. In this particular post, the idea of Russian Tapas is shared. When I think of tapas, I remember my first tapas experience. Keep in mind this is before tapas bars arrived in the United States, where it was not yet trendy to drink a mojito or sip a sangria. This takes us back to 2001, a month before the world changed. My husband and I were on our path to Morocco, but since we flew into Paris, our journey took us on a train through Spain. After an overnight in a bar car (we were unable to secure a sleeping berth or even a regular seat for that matter), we arrived in Madrid, exhausted, excited and eager to explore the city. We only had a day, so it all had to count. The day began as a continuation of the night, and it only got worse. After hearing boisterous Spanish drinking games and songs all night, my energy was waning. I stopped by a bathroom to clear my mind and wash the lack of sleep from my eyes. A few hours later, while strolling though the city, I saw something of interest. I immediately went for my camera. After searching through all my things, I realized my camera was stolen while washing my face in the Madrid train station bathroom! Tears began to stream down my cheeks. I was overcome with a great sense of loss. My hope of capturing the tessellating geometric tiles in the medina of Marrakesh, the carpets, the henna dyed women and the men sipping mint tea in afternoon cafes were dashed before our trip had truly begun. Two weeks in Morocco without a camera! Oh Loss!
To cheer me up, Norm and I went to a small bar/café to eat a mid-day snack. We each ordered a beer. When the beer arrived each glass was topped with a small plate. The plates each contained a small sausage and bread. "Oh, tapas!" I exclaimed, having read somewhere about this Spanish tradition. "What?" Norm asked. "Topless?" We are not in a topless bar!"
That was enough to make me smile, and forget, at least briefly, about the loss of my camera and the images and memories it would never seize. We enjoyed a few more drinks, each one arriving with a new treat. Well, I survived without the camera, and I still hold poignant memories, especially of tapas in Spain.
I am now off to experience a whole new culture, filled with new treats to try. I can hardly wait. I am curious to experience Russian tapas. The two words even being paired together is enough to peak my interest. Pickles? Beets? Pickled Beets? Pickled Herring? Vodka? Blinis? Perhaps caviar? I know caviar is a traditional Russian food, but my FLEX international students from there tell me that it is so expensive, that few eat it anymore. Either way, whatever I am presented with, I will embrace with an open mind and a willing palate. I also will be more careful with my camera. I won't let this experience go unrecorded.