TALLINN - My two young daughters and I moved to Estonia on November 12, 1995. I wanted my girls to learn foreign languages and understand the world that existed beyond the American dream. That particular winter was one of the longest, darkest and coldest that I have ever experienced in my life.
Bar none. The following summer was not a season, but a resurrection. That first year my daughters learned to speak a little Estonian, a lot of Russian and how to navigate through Tartu, Tallinn, Prague and Warsaw. What I learned was a little more basic.
I learned about humility.
The office where I paid my telephone bill, in Tartu, had a marble walkway and steps leading up to the entrance of the building. Fact: on planet earth, if there is one material slicker than wet marble, that would be icy marble. I frequently wondered what sadistic bureaucrat hatched the plan to use marble for an outdoor walkway in a Nordic country, as I silently crawled on my hands and knees across the icy marble 'sgenerally accompanied by other folks who (by choice or default) were also down on all fours.
I learned about patience.
Specialty shops were still the norm in Estonia in 1995. I am not referring to hobby shops or cool import/export stores. I am speaking of the bread shop, the tablecloth shop and the bolt shop (which was across town from the nut shop) and my all-time favorite: the chemical shop. There was also the shoe shop, the sock shop and the hair ribbon shop (which was not the same as the gift-wrapping ribbon shop). Almost every item under the sun was available; finding it was another story. A shopping spree that would have demanded a short drive and an hour in an American mall now took me three to five days of trudging through the snow and exploring specialty shops. Patience was no longer a virtue. It was a necessity.
I learned about compassion.
At the end of each month I accompanied a mailman friend of mine as he delivered pension money. I warmed my feet on pensioners' woodstoves and listened as the mailman advised them on such diversified subjects as how to insulate their homes better or how to make their money last a bit longer than mid-month. Frequ-ently I watched as my friend delivered his mail well into the night because more than one old person had needed some advice or, more often, someone to simply listen.
And I learned about Estonian cuisine.
I learned that food'smuch like a person or a country'sis more than the sum total of its parts or ingredients. Sauerkraut that is cooked in an iron kettle for several hours takes on a rich, nutty, flavor that cannot be duplicated with the use of any herbs or seasonings. Mushrooms picked in the forest (particularly near my country house in Valgi) are the texture of moist chicken and taste like Sunday evening after a light rain. I learned that pickles made from cucumbers from a friend's garden taste like the White Nights and strawberry jam without pectin drips deliciously from children's toast and down their fingers.
I learned that black bread tastes better after a few days on the windowsill and that cottage cheese and sour cream are not to be shunned but embraced at breakfast. I learned beets and potatoes look beautiful when arranged together on a plate with a piece of chicken or pork, and that most things that look attractive when placed together on a plate taste even better.
I learned that cold sauces made from mayonnaise and seasoned with dill and garlic are as good as any warm Pennsylvania brown flour gravy. I learned that when a grandmother gives you anything homemade, it is holy and tastes divine. And lastly, I learned that the essence of who we are, as a culture, is probably as intrinsic to our traditional cuisine as it is to our
folklore and these things deserve to be respected and preserved.
Shrove Tuesday buns2.5 dl lukewarm milk25 g compressed yeastor 11 g dry yeast1 egg1/2 tsp salt1 dl sugar1 tsp ground cardamom7 dl wheat flour100 g soft margarine for glazing: 1 egg for filling: 3 dl double or whipping cream (35-38% fat) 2 tsp vanilla sugar Makes about 10 - 12 bunsIf using the compressed yeast, dissolve in lukewarm milk; dry yeast can simply be mixed into the flour. Add egg, sugar, salt and cardamom to the milk, mixing continuously, then gradually add flour. Add soft margarine at the final phase of kneading. Knead the dough by hand or machine until it is smooth and does not stick to your hands or the bowl. Leave to rise in a warm place under a cloth, until it has doubled in size. Mold small buns from the dough, place them on greaseproof paper on a baking sheet, and leave them to rise again under the cloth. Prepare oven to 225°C, brush the buns with beaten egg and bake in the oven for 10 minutes. Allow to cool. Cut off the top of the buns, pile whipped cream mixed with vanilla sugar on the lower halves, and replace the lids.
