Cornbread with a Side of Stalinist Hijinks

von bremzenLast fall at the Brooklyn Book Festival, I wandered over to one of the stages where a panel of food writers were holding court and became instantly charmed by a woman with audacious glasses, voluminous scarves and a loud Russian-accented voice. She was just the blend of frank and weird that I like in my authors, so I resolved to read her newest book, Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking: A Memoir of Food and Longing.

I’m so glad I did. Anya von Bremzen’s bizarre mash-up of cookbook, family history and anthropological study of Homo Sovieticus is one of the oddest but most enjoyable food volumes I’ve ever laid hands on. There is surprisingly little talk of borscht, but instead you’ll learn about Russian meat patties while also finding out how Stalin kept himself amused at his summer house meals. (It involved leaving tomatoes on chairs and exhorting high Politburo officials to put “dick” signs on Khruschev’s back. That wacky, mass-murdering prankster!) And the book is beautifully written, so much so that I laughed out loud when she described how her ex-boyfriend humbly offered himself up to co-author her first book and correct her “wonky English.”

cornbreadThe USSR seemingly having been full of voracious meat-eaters whenever supplies allowed, there aren’t a lot of recipes here for a vegetarian to attempt, but von Bremzen did provide a recipe for cornbread that I was eager to try. She actually included it as something of a joke, representative of Khrushchev’s certainty that corn was going to solve all of the USSR’s food shortage problems. Instead, he managed only to baffle and disgust millions of Russians who held firmly to the belief that bread could be made only with wheat. For this, he earned the title Corn Man, which I gather sounds like a worse insult in Russian than in English.

Anyway, the USSR was a massive place, and some of the people there did, in fact, eat corn, like in Moldova, whence the author drew the cornbread recipe. I was attracted to it mostly because it calls for as much feta cheese as it does cornmeal, with some butter and sour cream to boot. When I made it last night, I adjusted the recipe slightly for the sake of our arteries, but the result was still not for the faint of heart. The author describes it as “moist,” but I would say that it was more the consistency of a dense, feta-flavored birthday cake. (That phrase alone was enough to make Jason swoon.) I served it with an oven-braised eggplant stew, flavored with paprika and cumin. Here’s my take on Anya’s recipe:

Moldovan Cornbread

  • 2 eggs
  • 1 cup milk
  • 1 cup water
  • 4 tbsp. melted butter
  • ½ cup sour cream
  • 2 cups yellow cornmeal
  • ¾ cup all-purpose flour
  • 1 tsp. sugar
  • 2 tsp. baking powder
  • ½ tsp. baking soda
  • 2 cups finely crumbled feta cheese

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. In a large bowl, whisk together the first five ingredients. In another bowl, sift together the cornmeal, flour, sugar, baking powder and baking soda. Whisk the dry ingredients into the egg mixture until smooth. Add the feta and whisk to blend thoroughly. Let the batter stand for 10 minutes.

Grease a square baking pan, and pour the batter in the pan. Bake until golden brown and firm, about 1 hour.

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