Alʹmanakh gastronomov : sostav bli︠u︡d devi︠a︡nosta polnykh obi︠e︡dov : oznachennykh zapiskami (menu) russkimi i frant︠s︡uzskimi ... a ravno zagotovlenii︠a︡ vprok na zimu produktov po frant︠s︡uzskomu sposovu / sostavleno I.M. Radet︠s︡kim ...D790

Alʹmanakh gastronomov : sostav bli︠u︡d devi︠a︡nosta polnykh obi︠e︡dov : oznachennykh zapiskami (menu) russkimi i frant︠s︡uzskimi ... a ravno zagotovlenii︠a︡ vprok na zimu produktov po frant︠s︡uzskomu sposovu / sostavleno I.M. Radet︠s︡kim ...D790

As good as the real thing... When it comes to western eyes looking through frosty Russian dining-room windows like the little match girl, the eyes are never too big for stomachs wanting dishes we can find nowhere else. Even a potato tastes Russian in the form of vodka, the Russian national drink (except that it's no longer made with spuds). Caviar, however, is more difficult to come by. Over-harvesting has almost wiped out the sturgeon and other Russian species that provide us with the delicacy. But we're happy to say that all is not lost, because those enterprising cooks in Leningrad a decade ago came up with a synthetic substitute for caviar and fish roe that they say, "is every bit as good as the real thing, except for the taste." A hungry student (and aren't they all hungry?) could translate some of these recipes, modifying the list of ingredients for what's available in western groceries (the calf's head looks a little daunting, but in the Mid-West they ought to be plentiful), try them out in KU's Russia House (if it still existed) and make them available to local chefs. Students, don't perish, publish! The world needs another Russian cookbook. Although we could find out nothing about Radetski himself, the British Museum Catalog lists an 1852 edition of this mouth-watering cookbook.

1852

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