Informationen zum Autor Witold Szablowski; Translated from the Polish by Antonia Lloyd-Jones Klappentext "First published in Poland as Rosja od kuchni: Jak zbudowaâc imperium noçzem, chochlña i widelcem by Grupa Wydawnicza Foksal, Warsaw"--Copyright page. Zusammenfassung A New York Times Editors' Choice Entertaining . . . A heady mix of propaganda and paranoia . . . [Szablowski writes] sensitively . . . not just about food but also its terrible absence. The New York Times Book Review Rivetinga delicious odyssey full of history, humor, and jaw-dropping stories. If you want to understand the making of modern Russia, read this book. Daniel Stone, bestselling author of The Food Explorer A high-spirited, eye-opening, appetite-whetting culinary travel adventure that tells the story of the last hundred years of Russian power through food, by an award-winning Polish journalist who's been praised by both Timothy Snyder and Bill Buford In the gonzo spirit of Anthony Bourdain and Hunter S. Thompson, Witold Szablowski has tracked downand broken bread withpeople whose stories of working in Kremlin kitchens impart a surprising flavor to our understanding of one of the world's superpowers. In revealing what Tsar Nicholas II's and Lenin's favorite meals were, why Stalin's cook taught Gorbachev's cook to sing to his dough, how Stalin had a food tester while he was starving the Ukrainians during the Great Famine, what the recipe was for the first soup flown into outer space, why Brezhnev hated caviar, what was served to the Soviet Union's leaders at the very moment they decided the USSR should cease to exist, and whether Putin's grandfather really did cook for Lenin and Stalin, Szablowski has written a fascinating oral historycomplete with recipes and photosof Russia's evolution from culinary indifference to decadence, famine to feasts, and of the Kremlin's Olympics-style preoccupation with food as an expression of the country's global standing. Traveling across Stalin's Georgia, the war fronts of Afghanistan, the nuclear wastelands of Chornobyl, and even to a besieged steelworks plant in Mariupoloften with one-of-a-kind access to locales forbidden to foreign eyes, and with a rousing sense of adventure and an inimitable ability to get people to spill the teahe shows that a century after the revolution, Russia still uses food as an instrument of war and feeds its people on propaganda....

Autorentext

Witold Szablowski; Translated from the Polish by Antonia Lloyd-Jones

Klappentext

"A high-spirited, eye-opening, appetite-whetting culinary travel adventure that tells the story of the last hundred years of Russian power and propaganda through food"--

Zusammenfassung
*A New York Times* Editors’ Choice

“Entertaining . . . A heady mix of propaganda and paranoia . . . [Szabłowski writes] sensitively . . . not just about food but also its terrible absence.” —The New York Times Book Review

“Riveting—a delicious odyssey full of history, humor, and jaw-dropping stories. If you want to understand the making of modern Russia, read this book.” —Daniel Stone, bestselling author of The Food Explorer

A high-spirited, eye-opening, appetite-whetting culinary travel adventure that tells the story of the last hundred years of Russian power through food, by an award-winning Polish journalist who’s been praised by both Timothy Snyder and Bill Buford**

In the gonzo spirit of Anthony Bourdain and Hunter S. Thompson, Witold Szabłowski has tracked down—and broken bread with—people whose stories of working in Kremlin kitchens impart a surprising flavor to our understanding of one of the world’s superpowers.

In revealing what Tsar Nicholas II’s and Lenin’s favorite meals were, why Stalin’s cook taught Gorbachev’s cook to sing to his dough, how Stalin had a food tester while he was starving the Ukrainians during the Great Famine, what the recipe was for the first soup flown into outer space, why Brezhnev hated caviar, what was served to the Soviet Union’s leaders at the very moment they decided the USSR should cease to exist, and whether Putin’s grandfather really did cook for Lenin and Stalin, Szabłowski has written a fascinating oral history—complete with recipes and photos—of Russia’s evolution from culinary indifference to decadence, famine to feasts, and of the Kremlin’s Olympics-style preoccupation with food as an expression of the country’s global standing.

Traveling across Stalin’s Georgia, the war fronts of Afghanistan, the nuclear wastelands of Chornobyl, and even to a besieged steelworks plant in Mariupol—often with one-of-a-kind access to locales forbidden to foreign eyes, and with a rousing sense of adventure and an inimitable ability to get people to spill the tea—he shows that a century after the revolution, Russia still uses food as an instrument of war and feeds its people on propaganda.