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small hands, smell like cabbage
Exactly a month ago, I happened on a restaurant write-up in the New York Times Dining section that haphazardly, circumstantially and unexpectedly became my muse. The review, "For the Love of a Russian Dumpling," pretty much had me at the hed, throwing about three of my obsessive themes like it owned them and just lets me borrow them once in a while.
But, it was the lede that filled me equally with smite of the pain/suffering and the swoon/awe variety — the former because someone else got to write it first and the latter because it is downright charming: "My list of dumpling loves is long."
I was certain he was writing to me and me alone, going on about "tiny Turkish manti, griddle-crisped Japanese gyoza, meaty Korean mandoo, anything Italian — from diminutive tortellini to hulking ravioli — and every kind of steamed, boiled or fried Chinese dumplings, swimming in soup or stuffed with it."
In the end, he adds Russian vareniki to his list of dumpling sweethearts, moon-shaped, less bulky than pierogi, and "served 25 to an order in a bath of drawn butter, generously sprinkled with long strands of onions cooked until tawny and sweet." He calls them "as light as carbs stuffed into carbs drenched in melted fat can be" and I called them my destiny.
I printed the review and stuck it in my shoulder bag, telling everyone about it and the Café Glechik it describes until they're eyes glazed over and demanded to know why I hadn't just been there already so I could shut up about it. But, I was saving it (I held out a whole four weeks, mind you); saving it for a day that would equal in momentousness my anticipation and personal significance. Indeed, I told my husband all I wanted for my 30th birthday dinner was a plate of $5 dumplings.
Of course, who would stop at one: we ordered the potato, cabbage variety and the "Siberia" (a mix of ground veal and pork) pelmeni, as well as a Greek-like salad and bottle of Georgian seltzer (they serve no beer or alcohol, both a disappointment and a gift after Saturday night's cirrhosis-inducing revelry at Russian Vodka Room). I doused them in both light vinegar and sour cream (blasphemy, by the way; you are supposed to choose only one), and consumed nearly ten before the weight of the long day, my hangover and those god-like carbohydrates descended on me.
The remaining two-thirds are in the refrigerator right now, and I you think I am above picking one out with my fingers and eating it cold, it's like you don't know me at all.
comments (11)
should have known better than to check in on an empty stomach. i love the flow of NYT articles..."hulking ravioli". Enjoy your leftovers!
1 | Vespa Rosso | June 12, 2006 02:00 PM
So, drooling at my desk is acceptable, right? The pictures are amazing. They made me hungry even though I had a wonderfully filling lunch just two hours ago.
Happy 30th!!
2 | clearlykels | June 12, 2006 02:35 PM
And now on to the more important questions... what did you get? Did it top the iPod or the teardrop earrings?
3 | Jess | June 12, 2006 03:58 PM
I am now drooling up a storm...one food source that is lacking in London is definitely Russian or Polish food...growing up in an area teaming with both, I'm missing it. Sigh.
4 | UKYankee | June 13, 2006 06:04 AM
Ha. Carnie's.
5 | Lucy | June 13, 2006 06:10 AM
Turkish manti is awesome..you should try it!
6 | zip | June 13, 2006 08:07 AM
The pictures of the vareniki make me drool. I LOOOOVE the carmelized onions. Sour cream is the best addition, at least for me. You must go to Brighton Beach and eat them. There's this nice little cafe on Brighton 3rd or so, I forget what it's called but it has a blue background to the letters and it's got huge glass windows and it's great after a day at Brighton beach.
And I can't believe you've never had Siberskiye pelmeni!! Those are the best. I am bad and eat them with parmisean cheese and ground black pepper, but if there is sour cream that goes on with the black pepper. My bf is more blasphemous and uses soy sauce, vinegar and salad dressing (freak!!!) but he's allowed to cus he was born in St. Petersburg and I wasn't.
Also you must get pirojki from International on Brighton, I'm sure your Sashka will know all about it.
7 | Mary | June 13, 2006 10:20 AM
Oh and room temperature Borjomi - blegh. That's just me tho.
8 | Mary | June 13, 2006 10:21 AM
I forgot the NYTimes has an annoying registration thing. The aformentioned cafe (which is just blocks from the beach so a great, casual place to go before or after):
Cafe Glechik - 3159 Coney Island Avenue (Brighton Beach Avenue), Brighton Beach, Brooklyn; (718) 616-0494. Cash only. 9 a.m. to 10 p.m. daily.
9 | deb | June 13, 2006 10:33 AM
Don't worry Deb, I was born in Odessa and raised on pelmeni and I eat them with both sour cream and vinegar (and butter and pepper). You definitely aren't the only one! Also, I'm jealous! They don't make anything nearly that good on the west coast...
10 | Addy | June 13, 2006 03:55 PM
The first thing I do after checking into my hotel in NY is going to Joe Shanghi's, either in Chinatown or in Manhattan and eating soup dumplings... I crave this little critters and can't get enough... this is also the last thing I eat before I go home.
Happy B DAY Girlfriend :)
11 | sweetsnger | June 13, 2006 05:05 PM