My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, slipped into a photo booth to generate this photo of herself shortly after she arrived in the United States. Did she plan to send the image back to her son and his new wife, who still waited in the Displaced Persons camp for permission to emigrate?
New York, about 1948 or 1949. Tatjana created this photo when she worked as a cook in a Russian household. I don't know what recipes she mastered while working there. Often, however, when we entertained guests, she made individual Pavlovas. She served them in crystal dessert dishes with frozen strawberries (in syrup) and French Vanilla Ice Cream. It was very elegant, for the 1960s.
My paternal Grandmother, Tatjana, did most of the cooking when I was growing up because my Mom worked a full-time job. Mom liked to bake, and she usually pitched in with holiday party preparations. But Tatjana was in charge of the everyday meals.
Tatjana also loved to entertain, and little satisfied her more than a Sunday party. Her food was the center of attention at these gatherings, and she stepped up her cooking game whenever guests arrived. We started out with zakuski: Russian appetizers. A homemade soup, often a chicken broth accompanied by meat of cabbage rolls, followed the zakuski. Although the main course usually consisted of a simple beef roast (well done, of course!!), Tatjana occasionally made Scalloped Potatoes and "Russian Cauliflower"—a cooked cauliflower covered with a sautéed mixture of breadcrumbs, onions, and parsley. Dessert often consisted of a Pavlova shell filled with vanilla ice cream and topped with defrosted, frozen strawberries in syrup. For holidays, Baba baked Babkas, a walnut torte, and—my least favorite food—poppy seed yeast roll.
All of this hard work rightly gave guests the impression that Tatjana was an amazing cook. On a day-to-day basis, however, her cooking was mediocre. Tatjana often made soup for dinner using a beef chuck roast. Once the soup was ready, she made a "brown sauce" for the meat and served that sauced, boiled beef as the main course—with a side of boiled potatoes. I hated that meal, but I loved it when she covered a boiled chicken from a chicken stock preparation with béchamel sauce and served that over rice. The meatloaf was dry. The cube steak was dusted in Lipton's French Onion Soup mix. Dessert was usually Jell-O. It seemed like a celebration when we had instant pudding instead of Jell-O.
Tatjana prepared spectacular Koldūnai, but she made them rarely. She never cooked the two Lithuanian signature dishes, Kugelis and Cepelinai.
The one "traditional" dish that Tatjana made was one I disliked intensely: Cabbage Rolls.* Tatjana mixed ground beef with rice, stuffed the leaves, and poured canned tomato soup over the rolls.
This week, I decided to overcome my dislike of Cabbage Rolls. Over the last few days, I created a hybrid Cabbage Roll recipe. Mom and I set it up this morning. We'll see if I like the Cabbage Rolls any more than when I was a little girl.
Suburban Chicago, Spring 1960. Tatjana looks tired after cooking. My high chair is behind her.
*Lithuanians call Cabbage Rolls "balandeliai," or "little doves." But Tatjana was Russian, and she did the cooking. So we called Cabbage Rolls by their Russian name, "Golubsti." We added the Lithuanian declination to the noun, of course, so the word became "Golubstai."
