Greek Life

Last summer, the Pickle Project on Parade (as we endeavored to call it) visited the fascinating Mariupol Region of southeastern Ukraine. Our travels to this region were inspired by an interest in learning more about the Greek communities there and sharing their stories with Pickle Project readers. This post is the first in a series about the people, culture and cuisine of Greek Mariupol. Special thanks to Galina, Carina, Anna, Lubov and Tatiana for all of your ideas, enthusiasm and support in Mariupol.

Maripoul Oblast is home to largest Greek-Ukrainian population in the country. Lubov, an ethnographer at the Donetsk Regional Museum, explained that there has long been a strong Greek influence in the Mariupol region, as Greek sailors and traders made their way from the Sea of Azoz, across the southern steppes. Greek settlements in the region were expanded in the 1780’s as Katherine the Great sought to consolidate her rule in the Black Sea region, especially Crimea. At the time, Greeks were the primary labor force in Crimea, Lubov explained. In an effort to weaken rising powers of the Crimean Khanate on the Peninsula, Katherine’s forces pushed the Greek population, along with large groups of Crimean Tatars, into the territories of Mariupol. This was one component of Katherine’s larger “planned colonization” strategy undertaken across Ukraine.

Greek villages are scattered across the region but Saratana and Starry Krim (Old Crimea) are two of the most prominent. Greek cultural traditions and practices, including food preparation, remain strong in the region. We also learned that there are efforts underway to preserve the Greek language spoken in the villages of Mariupol, a dialect called Rumaiica.

We had the distinct pleasure of sitting down with Tatiana Bohadetsa, director of the Museum of Greek History and Ethnography in Sartana to sample some Greek-Ukrainian specialties. To our great indulgence, Tatiana is not only an expert of local Greek history and culture, she is also the author of a cookbook featuring Greek specialties of the region.

Included in this feast were the delightfully named smoosh (шмуш), puffy pastries filled with spiced meats or fish and potatoes. My favorite were crispy fried triangles stuffed with pumpkin and sauteed onions.

For Tatiana, these dishes are central to helping keep the connection to her Greek heritage alive. She also noted that food is an easy access point for people. It tastes good, helps them remember and helps them learn. We couldn’t agree more.

Top to bottom:
Mural at the museum in Saratana
Cookbook
Smoosh

Tea on a Summer Afternoon

We recently had the good fortune of spending the afternoon with my friend Nataliya’s family in Yanif. Located northwest of L’viv, Yanif (also called Ivano Frankove) sits at the edge of the Roztochya Forest Preserve and on the shores of a sizable lake historically known for the salty, smoked fish produced there.

From the marshrutka stop, we made our way through the village, along the dusty roads and winding alleys, past raggedy dogs and fenced yards filled with chicken coops, roses and potatoes to Nataliya’s grandparents house. Cheerful and generous, Pavlina and Volodymyr Litynski are are in their 70s and maintain an energetic and lively household.

They live in a simple house with a small but bountiful kitchen garden, a little greenhouse made of windows for growing tomatoes and a few fruit trees. It is there that I have learned much about Ukrainian food traditions. In addition to being industrious vegetable gardeners and orchard keepers, three generations of this family, including my friend Nataliya, her mother, Halya, and her grandfather, Volodymyr, are all foresters and are knowledgeable experts on native Ukrainian berries, mushrooms and wild herbs.

It was one of those clear, blue summer afternoons and we found Volodymyr sitting in the grass, sorting just-picked red currants. After surveying the various stages of vegetables and fruits in the garden, as we always do when I visit, Volodymyr carried the kitchen table out into the dappled shade of the yard, much the way my own grandparents would on a summer day.

Under the trees, we nibbled seernik, a light Ukrainian cheesecake, with fresh raspberries and sipped a refreshing herbal tea that Pavlina made. The tea was a local mélange of wild raspberry leaves, wild strawberry leaves, nettles, mint and the delicate fruits of basswood. (For the forestry geeks out there, they are technically nutlets with a thin leafy bract. We often see these marketed for tea in big Ukrainian city markets as well.) All of these were collected around Pavlina and Volodymyr’s garden and, then, hung and dried in the "shadow" of the trees. They store this mixture in a canister in their cool, dry pantry.

Despite the heat, we drank our tea hot and it provided that strange, cooling effect that warm and spicy foods produce. (Actually, I have always wondered about the physiological effects that spicy and hot foods precipitate. According to this 1999 Scientific American article, it has to do with the skin’s pain receptors, which can be stimulated by actual heat or by chemicals such as capsaicin, that simulate heat, to trigger a response from the nervous system.)

As we chatted and sipped, various neighbors passed through the yard, calling out greetings as they strolled by. Some carried borrowed garden tools, others bags of food or children. A few friends and cousins stopped to join us for a cup of tea, conversation and an idle moment during a busy season.

Special thanks to Pavlina and Volodymyr Litynski and Halya, Serhy and Nataliya Stryamets, as always, for their warm hospitality.

A Harvest of Photos

You never know what a visit to the antique market here in Kyiv (where I'm back for a month or so, working on some museum projects) will bring.   Yesterday's visit brought a harvest of photos related to--well, harvests!   And although our interests are primarily in Ukrainian food today,  these photos provide important context and make me realize how much we have to learn.   In particular, you'll notice that most of these are of collective farms in villages, reflecting the policy of forced collectivization that began in the late 1920s under Stalin--ostensibly to increase food production, but of course, primarily to increase control over villagers.   A goal was to increase mechanization of food production--with equipement like the tractor shown below.  What the photos also show to me is the richness of Ukraine's landscape and the variety of crops produced here:  wheat, corn, sugar beets, pigs, and more.

And as this final photo was explained to me by the seller, it shows a propaganda brigade, dressed in traditional costumes, that would go out into the fields, singing and encouraging a productive harvest.  More details welcomed and encouraged about any of these photos!

Historic Food Images 5: From Kyiv

My last trip to Kyiv was very short, just over a week, but I did sneak in a trip to the antique market on the other side of the river, every Saturday morning.  I've been there enough that one dealer knows I'm looking for food and farming photos and always has a couple for me.  The above is just a detail from the photo below.  I was struck this time by how many photos I saw of women working together.  In this, harvesting some kind of root crop--hard to tell exactly what.  And of course, in 1959, this is on a collective farm.

In this undated photo, women are working outside, again together, this time peeling potatoes.

I particularly love this group, who look like they've paused for lunch, while harvesting or doing other outdoor work.

And in sharp contrast, our lone male in today's post, eating a meal at home.  Any ideas of what his meal consists of?