Anya von Bremzen is one of the most accomplished food writers of her generation: the winner of three James Beard awards; a contributing writer at AFAR magazine; and the author of six acclaimed cookbooks, among them The New Spanish Table, The Greatest Dishes: Around the World in 80 Recipes, and Please to the Table: The Russian Cookbook (coauthored by John Welchman). Her memoir, Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking has been translated into nineteen languages. Anya has written for Food & Wine, Saveur, the New Yorker, and Foreign Policy magazines among other publications. A former concert pianist, Anya is fluent in four languages and when not on the road divides her time between New York and Istanbul.
Mom's Russian "Hamburgers"
Kotleti for lunch, kotleti for dinner, kotleti of beef, of pork, of fish, of chicken—even kotleti of minced carrots or beets. The entire USSR pretty much lived on these cheap, delicious fried patties, and when comrades didn't make them from scratch, they bought them at stores. Back in Moscow, Mom and I harbored a secret passion for the proletarian, six-kopek variety produced by the meat-processing plant named after Stalin's food supply commissar, Anastas Mikoyan. Inspired by his 1936 trip to America, Mikoyan wanted to copy Yankee burgers in Russia, but somehow the bun got lost in the shuffle and the country got hooked on mass-produced kotleti instead. Deliciously greasy, petite, and with a heavy industrial breading that fried up to a wicked crunch, Mikoyan factory patties could be scarfed down by the dozen. Wild with nostalgia, Mom and I tried a million times to recreate them at home, but no luck: some manufactured treats just can't be duplicated. So we always reverted back to Mom's (far more noble) homemade version.
Every ex-Soviet cook has a special trick for making juicy, savory patties. Some add crushed ice, others tuck in pats of butter or mix in a whipped egg white. My mother likes her kotleti Odessa-style (garlicky!), and adds mayo as binding instead of the usual egg, with delightful results. The same formula works with ground turkey or chicken or fish. Buckwheat kasha makes a nostalgic Russian accompaniment. Ditto thin potato batons slowly pan-fried with onions in lots of butter or oil. I love cold kotleti for lunch the next day, with some dense dark bread, hot mustard, and a good crunchy dill pickle.
Pollo con Frutos y Frutas Secas
As this recipe demonstrates, Ferran Adrià, the alchemist chef of El Bulli, is as practical as he is inventive. It's adapted from the cookbook he dedicated to quick recipes that can be made with supermarket ingredients, and it features a store-bought rotisserie chicken that's deliciously doctored with a sauce of dried fruit, pine nuts, and port wine. Though you can whip the dish up in less than half an hour, the flavors are sophisticated enough for a fancy dinner party. If you'd like to roast your own chicken, so much the better.