The Marvel of Melon!

It is in these dwindling days of summer (or the very first days of autumn) that we really appreciate the luxury and succulence of the season’s produce. And, for me, the melon, bright and invigorating, is the pinnacle. When melons enter the bazaar, a sweet and distinctive aroma fills your nose, long before your eyes lay upon them. Fresh from the vine, watermelons (кавун) and muskmelons (dynya) are the delight of Ukraine’s late summer markets.

Native to tropical Africa, watermelons have crisp, red (or yellow) flesh while muskmelons, with soft orange or pale green flesh, originate in central Asia. Watermelons and muskmelons are both members of the Cucurbitaceae family, which also includes squashes, pumpkins and cucumbers. Melons, both watermelons and muskmelons, are rather fickle fruits, sensitive to frosts and cold, windy or cloudy conditions. They thrive in warm, sunny weather and humus-rich, well-drained, if slightly acidic, soils. The greater southern Dnieper valley regions of Zaporizhzhya, Mykolayiv and Kherson, as well as portions of the Crimean peninsula afford ideal conditions for these delicate beauties. And, thus, Ukrainians have developed a particular fondness for the fruits and adeptness in their cultivation. Indeed, melons have been cultivated in Ukraine for some 15 centuries. According to a USDA report, fossilized melon seeds found during excavations of sites near Sevastopol dated to the 2nd century BC! In addition, genetic research suggests that Ukraine is also significant hub of genetic melon diversity. It seems Ukrainians (and Russians) carried some of the seeds of these diverse strains with them as they immigrated to North America, notably to Central Canada, home to famous varieties such as the buttery yellow “Cream of Saskatchewan.”

As with most fruits, melons are sweetest and most delicious when ripened on the vine. As for choosing a watermelon at the perfect stage of ripeness, it can be tricky because the outer skin, often green and zebra-striped, remains so regardless of fruit readiness. At my regular market haunts, growers, sellers and fellow patrons are usually glad to provide advice for spotting, slapping, squeezing or sniffing out the ideal specimen.

If selection assistance is not a service provided by your melon merchant, as may occasionally be the case, you may choose to defer to the advice of American writer, Mark Twain, who, I gather, was something of a watermelon aficionado and, according to my treasured 17^th edition of Rodale’s Encyclopedia of Organic Gardening (1971), is said to opined: an unripe melon says “pink” or “pank” when rapped with the knuckles, while a ripe one replies “punk.”

Muskmelons, of course, provide an unmistakable perfume, smelling delicious when they are delicious. They also tend to soften after being picked and may give a bit under the thumb. I have been informed that they may also rattle when lightly shaken, as the seeds move about in the hollow center.

In addition to the fleeting joys of fresh melons, there is also the magic of pickled watermelon! Sometimes sweet, sometimes salty and savory, sometimes spicy and sweet, both the flesh and the rinds of the watermelon are pickled and make a wonderful appetizer or relish for warm, mid-winter meals.

The drying of muskmelons, both flesh and rinds, is a preservation technique that apparently originates in the Caucus region and is popular in some Ukrainian communities, particularly in Crimea. While I heard much about this practice third-hand, I do not know anyone that does this! If you have experience drying muskmelons, drop us a line!

For a fabulous pickled watermelon recipe and related articles, visit Saveur.

To learn more about Ukraine and genetic diversity of melons, see the USDA Agricultural Research Service 2009 study.

For information about growing watermelons, muskmelons and cantaloupe, I recommend Rodale’s Encyclopedia of Organic Gardening, any edition.

As always, Culinaria Russia: Ukraine, Georgia, Armenia and Azerbaijan, edited by Marion Trutter, published by H. Fullmann, 2006 is a great resource on the food traditions of the Post-Soviet Space.

Harvest Comes Early to Ukraine

I'm very pleased to share this guest post and photos by Fran Cary, a Peace Corps volunteer in Ukraine. Fran lives and works in Starobilsk.  Luba, her friend and neighbor is like many Ukrainians, intensely  knowledgeable about her garden and dedicated to preserving the fruits of her work.  Fran's thoughtful commentary places Luba in the context of both time and place.  Thank you both Fran and Luba!

Harvest is coming early to Ukraine.  It's the intense, prolonged hot weather and lack of rain.  Luba's garden storage area in her barn, a common feature of village homesteads, is loaded with tomatoes, onions, potatoes, and herbs, drying out so they can be cured, sliced, diced, spiced, bottled and preserved.   

The grapes look beautiful, but Luba says they will not be very tasty. Too dry. The apples are fairly plentiful but not very large.  The plums are turning deep purple but many are dropping early.  There are five blushing peaches on her newly planted tree that she is guarding with her life.  Last year the apricots were bountiful, and Luba spent hours cutting and drying them and making jam, preserves and compot (fruit juice);  this year there are hardly any apricots.   

Luba , who is a professional accountant, says, "During the day I work with my head, at night I work with my body and soul," and  she loves it.  It's a balance between the mental and physical that many of us, in today's post-industrial and technological world, do not have.  In Starobilsk, and most rural villages throughout Ukraine, it is a typical pattern.     

 

Luba's garden is medium-sized, but if you have ever worked a plot of land you know what hard work it is.  Natalia's garden is huge, three times the size of Luba's.  When Natalia is not teaching English at the University, she works the land with her husband and two college-aged sons. When I was in training in Chernigov, Valya and Nikolai, who lived in a large Soviet-style apartment building, went early every morning to their garden plot in the country where they grew vegetables and fruits, and Nikolai hunted for mushrooms.  Some gardens are large enough so their owners can grow their own food and sell the surplus in the marketplace, at shops, roadside stands, and bazaars.  Right now, on the road to Lugansk, for example, it's hard to resist the melons and autumn vegetables.   

Luba's garden and lifestyle make me think of the work of British historian E.P.Thompson and his many followers who explored the changing relationship to time in industrial and pre-industrial societies,  the centuries-long transition from economies based on farmers, merchants and craftspeople to those based on industries, beginning with the textile factories, which required a disciplined labor force tied to clock time. 

Before Thompson there was Karl Marx, who famously argues that the industrial revolution polarized society into the bourgeoise, those who owned the means of production, and the proletariat, those who performed the labor necessary to extract something valuable from the means of productions.  These studies of the transition from agrarian to industrial life, and likewise the transition from slavery to freedom, constitute a fascinating body of scholarship, worldwide, a global village of international studies.     

Luba's 9 to 5 day job is measured by the time-clock, but her work in the garden is pre-industrial.  It is measured by the tasks required at different times in the growing cycle. She wakes up at sunrise to work in her garden for a few hours, then comes home from her day job and works til sundown in the garden, each task determined by the crop and the season, a natural cycle of life.   

In the rural villages of Ukraine, some elements of a pre-industrial society still exist.  Farmers, merchants and craftspeople dominate the economy, although large international companies and technology are fast rising to overtake them.  It feels like what it must have been life in America at the turn of the century with the rise of the trusts and big business, and the triumph of capitalism.  The growing and dirge-like complaints about “oligarchy” embody the resistance and regret at this development, which now seems inevitable, irresistible, unstoppable.   

Because for village people in the post-Soviet world, freedom still means owning your own land, growing your own food, being self-sufficient, being your own boss.  It's the Ukrainian equivalent of "40 acres and a mule," the dream of former slaves after the Civil War and during Reconstruction into the 20th century.   There is a fierce resistance to “clocking-in” to work for the profit of someone else.    

Luba's work exemplifies this lifestyle.  I think it is doomed to extinction. I wonder how long it can last?
 

Blue, Blue Blueberries!

I spent a little time last week here in the Catskills picking blueberries--and the same thing is happening in Ukraine.  Last week, the small community of Guklyvy in the Transcarpathian Region held a blueberry festival which included the unveiling of a blueberry statue, and of course, blueberries in many forms.   Blueberries are an important food source for people in the Carpathians and also a significant seasonal, supplemental income source. Families pick berries together, eating some fresh and preserving the rest in jams, juices and thick sauces.   Children often sell them in villages or along the side of the road, holding out glass jars full, with their little arms, as you drive the winding mountain roads. Wild blueberries from this region are tiny and rather dark in color. A friend of Sarah's makes something akin to a parfait, layering sugared berries with smetana (sour cream)  creamy white and dark blue, beautiful, delicate and delicious.

In the Carpathians and other regions of Ukraine the blueberries are on wild, low bushes, rather than the high bush variety more commonly seen in the United States. In Polissa, a region of Central Ukraine,  an agro-tourism website extols berry picking both as centuries old tradition and now as fun activity for tourists.  And as anyone who's ever been berry picking can attest, it's immensely satisfying both to eat along the way and to come home with a bucketful.

And what to do with all those blueberries?  At the festival in Guklyvy there was blueberry vodka at right in the above photo and blueberry fillings for varenyky and blini, center.    On the left, some sort of blueberry tart.

Interestingly, a quick google found references to Ukrainians and blueberry picking here in the United States, near Lake Erie and northern New York.   And if you haven't eaten all your fresh berries, hanks to  Foodgeeks.com  here's a recipe for blueberry varenyky, both dough and filling.  Enjoy--and please share your pictures and memories of berry picking in Ukraine.

BLUEBERRY SAUCE
2 cups blueberries (wild blueberries preferred)
1/2 cup granulated sugar
1 tbsp. all purpose flour
2 tbsp. lemon juice
2 tbsp. butter, melted
Sour cream, at room temperature

FILLING
2/3 cup granulated sugar
1 tbsp. all purpose flour
2 cups blueberries

DOUGH
3 cups all purpose flour
1/2 tsp. baking powder
1 egg
3/4 cup milk
2 tbsp. butter, melted
Cold water

INSTRUCTIONS

FOR THE SAUCE: In saucepan, stir together blueberries, sugar and flour; add lemon juice and 1/4 cup water. Simmer over low heat until blueberries are soft and sauce is thickened, about 5 minutes. Set aside.

FOR THE DOUGH: In large bowl, whisk together flour and baking powder. In separate bowl, whisk together egg, milk and butter; stir into flour mixture. Add cold water, 1 tbsp. at a time (6 to 7 tbsp. total), until soft dough is formed. Knead until dough is smooth. Cover with plastic and let rest for 10 minutes.

Roll dough to scant 1/4 inch thickness. Cut out 3 inch rounds.

FILLING: Whisk together sugar and flour; set aside. Stretch out cut out dough rounds slightly and fill each round with scant 1 tsp. flour/ sugar mixture and 1 Tbsp. blueberries. Pull dough over filling; pinch edges together to seal.

Continue until dough and filling are used up, letting reworked scraps rest slightly before rolling (keep unrolled dough and filled dumplings covered with a clean tea towel).

In large pot of lightly salted boiled water, boil dumpling, in batches if necessary, until dough is tender at thickest edges, about 10 minutes. Remove with slotted spoon to serving plate; drizzle with butter to prevent sticking. Serve with blueberry sauce and sour cream on the side. Makes 32 to 36 dumplings.

FOOD TIP: any leftover dough can be rolled into noodles, boiled and served with butter or sour cream.

Photos from ForUM and Zacarpatia.net.

post by Linda and Sarah

What Do We Long For? Food Nostalgia and Puzata Hata

In her chapter on food tourism in the book Fast Food/Slow Food: The Cultural Economy of the Global Food System, food anthropologist Melissa Caldwell explores how the stress of life in modern Moscow has resulted in a collective homesickness for a simpler time, an imagined life that is stable and familiar. This, she suggests, has catalyzed the emergence of “nostalgia cuisine” and themed restaurants in Moscow. Through food experiences, Russians might find reprieve from alienating forces and events that have come to shape their lives. While Ukraine certainly differs from Russia, a similar trend is evident in Ukraine’s urban centers.

One example that has always struck me is Puzata Hata (пузата хата) a chain restaurant with locations across Ukraine. The restaurant features classic Ukrainian food, served cafeteria style, in Carpathian village-themed environs. There are wooden beams, faux cottage rooftops, murals of haystacks, plastic onions hung to dry and servers in embroidered sorotchke. (OK, there are also large TVs and techno music.) This restaurant is very popular among university students and, it seems, everyone else. In fact, when I first came to Ukraine, this was a place that friends and colleagues were eager to take me. I have often wondered what it is about Puzata Hata people like so well. The food is classic and predictable but certainly not as delicious as homemade, particularly for standard Ukrainian fare, such as varenyky and blini.  When asked why she likes the place, a friend’s reply was “Because the food is good there, the design is like in old Ukrainian houses and it is not expensive.” This response was typical among people I asked in L’viv, all stressing that it is cheap, fresh and “comfortable”. What is interesting is that, while these individuals may have extended family or dachas in the villages, they are, for the most part, city folks, having grown up in L’viv’s highrise apartment complexes. Apparently “cultural nostalgia” is fairly common and draws shared responses that support a cultural identity. Thus, it is entirely possible to be wistful for romanticized experiences that you have never had. Further, while “comfort food” is not a new concept, all of this makes me wonder whether it is the preservation of the food or the ideas that give us comfort? Indeed, why is the village aesthetic, and particularly traditional foodways, such an important cultural icon?  But this village culture is mediated by specialists--by researchers who ensure authentiticy.  Puzata Hata’s website says,

Puzata Hata cuisine is well known and loved by our guests and represents the result of serious research and work. Our specialists have surveyed all regions of Ukraine to collect the most popular recipes of traditional national dishes.    This was preceded by long hours of work with archived documents – we used over a hundred of original culinary creations. That is how our food catalogue was created containing over a thousand dishes (for example, there are fifty recipes of Ukrainian borscht alone).

We'd love to hear from blog readers about why your own fondness for Puzata Hata.  Does it represent comfort?  affordability?  cooking just like home in a big city setting?

For intriguing discussion of nostalgia and foodways in the Post-Soviet context, see Svetlana Boym’s Common Places: Mythologies of Everyday Life in Russia (Harvard University Press, 1994) (also recently recommended by a Pickle Project reader) and Melissa Caldwell’s “Tasting the Worlds of Yesterday and Today: Culinary Tourism and Nostalgia Foods in Post-Soviet Russia”  in Fast Food/Slow Food: The Cultural Economy of the Global Food System edited by Richard Wilk (AltaMira Press, 2006) or many of Dr. Caldwell’s other writings on food in Post-Socialist countries.

written by Sarah, posted by Linda

Market Report: July 2, Opishne, Poltava Region

I was in Opishne for the National Day of Potters, an event created by the National Museum of Ceramics, located there, but after we finished a restaurant lunch, I persuaded my intrepid translator to accompany me across the road to see what a line-up of fruit and vegetable sellers had to offer.   So I saw cherries braided into a strand the way chili peppers are in the Southwest United States;  St.  John's wort and other herbs for tea (and then had some later that day);  cherries,  the tiny strawberries gathered into little bouquets and almost dried, gooseberries, cucumbers and last season's walnuts and dried pears.

But most memorable were the great faces of the men and women who smilingly pressed walnuts into my hand, had me try a dried plum (good for my digestion they said),  and encouraged me to try and purchase all!

Historic Food Images 4: From L'viv

My last trip to L'viv was also my last chance, this visit, to look for historic photos related to food.  The craft market in L'viv, near the opera house, yielded some fascinating images.   Above, some proud (and well-dressed) workers at a flour mill.  Below, a stylish sip of something.

I can't quite tell what's going on in the image below.  A bride?  The slat basket over the one man's shoulder is a really familiar, well-used form even today.  Just last week I saw many people coming in on the trains to Kyiv with this over their shoulder, filled with berries or cherries and covered with a cloth.   Anyone able to tell us what's happening here or where the image might be from?

And just because it's a beautiful image, this color postcard of apples.  Enjoy!

Red and Green: Market Report, June 27

Some photos from a quiet Sunday at the market in Podil, in Kyiv.  I was struck by all the red and green, of tomatoes, salad greens and herbs,  pickles (of course),  green onions, currants, and green walnuts.

I've had pickled walnuts with tea--and they're great!  I couldn't find a specifically Ukrainian recipe but here's one recipe from allrecipes.com.  I don't remember the taste of cinnamon and other spices in the ones I had here.  I'd love to have a recipe from Ukraine--anyone have one to share?

Pickled Walnuts

• 4 pounds fresh young black walnuts
• 3/4 cup salt
• 4 cups malt vinegar
• 2 1/8 cups packed brown sugar
• 1 teaspoon ground allspice
• 1 teaspoon ground cloves
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1 tablespoon grated fresh ginger root   

1. Use rubber gloves to handle the young walnuts and pierce each one a few times with the tines of a fork. Watch out for the clear juice this produces. It stains a dark, espresso brown and is a natural dye. Place the walnuts into a bucket and fill with enough water to cover. Stir in 3/4 cup of salt to make a brine. Soak walnuts for 1 week, then drain and make the brine again. Soak for 1 more week.
2. After the second week, drain the walnuts and lay them out on trays to dry in an airy place. In a couple of days they will turn black. Once they have all turned black, they are ready to pickle.
3. In a large pot, stir together the malt vinegar, brown sugar, allspice, cloves, cinnamon and ginger. Bring to a boil and then add the walnuts. Simmer over medium heat for 15 minutes. Remove from heat and allow to cool.
4. Spoon the walnuts into sterile jars and fill with the syrup to within 1/2 inch of the top. Seal with lids and rings. Store in the refrigerator or process in a hot water bath for 10 minutes. Cool to room temperature and store in a cool dark place.