In Udmurt culture, food is neither quick nor unimportant, but as much embedded in their identity as their love of song and their fiery red hair. My host family in Zavyalovo was ethnically Russian, so I got a taste, literally, of rural Russian cuisine, such as the thin, pancake-like blini’s, and cucumber salads doused in dill.
The native Udmurts are a Finno-Ugric group, and their food is classified as such. Udmurt ravioli, called pelmeni, was probably the best dish I had while in Russia. With the rest of my host family, we stuffed the handmade dough with the fresh meat of their—previous—bull.
For one night we stayed in Ozh Purga, a tiny Udmurt village of only 400 inhabitants. We were probably there less than twenty-four hours, but I think consumed more in that day than I usually eat in a week. The platters of homemade strawberry compote, pastries, and meat-pie-like dishes just kept coming, served with endless hot tea and all types of dairy products imaginable.
After being literally spoon-fed a mouthful of strawberries by an Udmurt babushka and eating more blinis than I could count, we had the option of milking a cow and a goat and churning, or rather trying to churn, butter. Believe it or not, there were actually more dairy products available after that, including an acidic-tasting sour cream-ish liquid, and the cream from the top of the non-homogenized milk.
As a California girl, I thought I knew everything about “organic” food. That was before I saw my host family’s boundless garden, before I ate the chicken that I had seen earlier that day, and before I picked wild strawberries in the town of Glazov. I have to say, the Udmurts know a lot more about real local cuisine than any valley girl could ever dream of.
-Josie A.
The native Udmurts are a Finno-Ugric group, and their food is classified as such. Udmurt ravioli, called pelmeni, was probably the best dish I had while in Russia. With the rest of my host family, we stuffed the handmade dough with the fresh meat of their—previous—bull.
For one night we stayed in Ozh Purga, a tiny Udmurt village of only 400 inhabitants. We were probably there less than twenty-four hours, but I think consumed more in that day than I usually eat in a week. The platters of homemade strawberry compote, pastries, and meat-pie-like dishes just kept coming, served with endless hot tea and all types of dairy products imaginable.
After being literally spoon-fed a mouthful of strawberries by an Udmurt babushka and eating more blinis than I could count, we had the option of milking a cow and a goat and churning, or rather trying to churn, butter. Believe it or not, there were actually more dairy products available after that, including an acidic-tasting sour cream-ish liquid, and the cream from the top of the non-homogenized milk.
As a California girl, I thought I knew everything about “organic” food. That was before I saw my host family’s boundless garden, before I ate the chicken that I had seen earlier that day, and before I picked wild strawberries in the town of Glazov. I have to say, the Udmurts know a lot more about real local cuisine than any valley girl could ever dream of.
-Josie A.