It was hot and moist all the time. Tatiana made salads to fit the climate, even though Alexander would eat the salad, and then say, “Okay, where’s the food?” Tatiana learned to make a mango and feta cheese salad. Mangos were something she hadn’t had before. The combination of sweet mangoes and slightly spicy feta was exotic, decidely un-Russian, decidedly un-cabbage-pie-like. She used cherry tomatoes halved, a mango cubed, a little red onion minced, and feta crumbled. She dressed it with lime and honey and a pinch of salt. She loved it. He ate it. “Where’s the food?” he said.
In Coconut Grove, Tatiana discovered plantains. She chose her plantains wisely. They were ripe when they had black vertical marks in the yellow skin. They took longer to ripen than regular bananas, and thus kept longer.
She would slice two ripe plantains into ¼-in pieces and fry them on medium heat in 3 tablespoons of butter until they were golden brown, then lowering the heat to finish cooking through. She would serve them with anything, but mostly with skirt steak or fish; or, at the end of a meal, with rum, which flowed freely from the sugar-cane country of Cuba, just south of their houseboat on the Bay of Biscayne.
Challah Rolls
Her oven was an underperformer, which made it difficult to make bread. She tried challah rolls, which she had learned how to make from the Jewish women on the Lower East Side. She would make the small sweet rolls and fill them with ham or thinly sliced beef, and bring them for lunch with her when she ran to pick up Anthony from the boat in the afternoons. The three of them would sit under the palms. Tatiana would eat half a sandwich, Anthony would eat the other half and Alexander would devour three or four, and still look slightly searching when he was done. He liked them warm, so she made them every other morning, and brought them to him fresh. One evening he said, “Hey, you don’t have any more of those little rolls, do you?” She did, and he piled his cod with mango salsa on top of them, and ate his haute cuisine seafood on a sandwich roll from the Lower East Side. On Sundays, he had them in the morning with his eggs and bacon. He had them with everything. Anthony was sick of them. Tatiana was sick of them. Not Alexander. And she didn’t question it. He was eating. And who would want to question why the husband liked warm sweet bread right out of the oven?
Making yeast dough was time consuming, and yet bread was perishable. The inclination was to double the recipe, but bread went stale fast. Tatiana was lucky to have the morning to herself when Anthony was on the boat with Alexander, so that she could run to the market, do the laundry, and make him the bread he liked best.
The recipe made eighteen challah rolls. In Tatiana’s houseboat, eighteen rolls lasted twenty-four hours. On the second day, she popped them in the oven for a few minutes to warm them up before making Alexander’s lunch. They still tasted pretty good but not like the first day.
Yeast:
4 teaspoons dried yeast
1 cup (225 ml) very warm water
1 teaspoon sugar
Dough:
4½ cups (560 g) bread flour or all-purpose (plain) flour
3 eggs
½ cup (100g) sugar
⅛ cup (30ml) honey
½ cup (125 ml) canola oil
2 teaspoons salt
1 egg, beaten, for brushing
butter, for greasing
Glaze:
1 egg yolk
2 tablespoons melted butter
2 tablespoons water
To prove the yeast: combine yeast, water and sugar in small bowl, set aside in a warm place for ten minutes until frothy.
Meanwhile in a stand mixer with the dough hook attachment, combine flour, eggs, sugar, honey, oil, and salt, mix, and then knead for 10 minutes until the dough is smooth and sticky. Grease a large bowl with butter. Place dough into bowl and turn several times until buttered on all sides. Cover the bowl with a towel or plastic wrap (clingfilm) and place in a warm, dark place to rise for 90 minutes. Punch down, cover, let rise for another 45 minutes. Separate dough into halves, separate each half into thirds. Roll out each third into a rope about 18 in (45 cm) long. Tie the three ropes at the top and braid down. Cut into nine equal parts. Place on greased cookie sheet (baking tray). Repeat with the other half of the dough. Let the rolls rise another 45 minutes. Prepare egg glaze: egg yolk, 2 tablespoons melted butter, 2 tablespoons water, mix well, then brush over the rolls. Bake in a 360°F (190°C) oven for 30 minutes until rich golden brown. Cool on a wire rack.
Cod or Mahi-Mahi with Mango Salsa
Tatiana sometimes used papaya or ripe pineapples instead of mango but liked mango best. She was careful not to substitute a whole pineapple in place of a whole mango. For this she measured: 1 cup (150g) diced mango = 1 cup (150g) diced papaya or pineapple.
Mango Salsa:
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 teaspoon grated lemon zest
1 mango, peeled, seeded and finely chopped
1 small tomato, finely chopped
⅓ cup (50g) red onion, finely chopped and lightly cooked so it’s wilted and transparent
1 garlic clove, finely chopped
1 tablespoon honey
½ small jalapeño pepper, seeded and minced (very finely chopped)
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro (coriander)
Since the fish takes only a few minutes, prepare the mango salsa first. Combine all ingredients in order, add honey, mix well, then sprinkle jalapeño and cilantro on top. Set aside.
4 fillets cod or Mahi-Mahi
3 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
salt, to taste
In a skillet heat oil and butter, add Mahi-Mahi, fry for 5 minutes on one side, till lightly brown, 5 minutes on the other. Serve with mango salsa.
And plantains.
Marinated Flank or Skirt Steak
When Alexander came home and asked what was for dinner, and Tatiana said marinated flank steak or skirt steak, he would nod approvingly. “Now that’s what I call dinner. Not that food you call salad and I call rabbit food. Rabbits eat salad. And then I eat the rabbit. Any more challah rolls left?”
Steak was his favorite. He ate the salad, the salsa, the plantains, anything, as long as he had steak with it. “Where did you learn the marinade? It’s great.”
“From Chang Hao.”
“Oh, your little Oriental friend. Did he want to marry you, too? To un-widow you?”
“No, Shura. Chang Hao had a wife.”
“Oh, sure. So you say.”
He was teasing her!
¼ cup (55 ml) soy sauce
¼ cup (55 ml) rice vinegar
2 teaspoons sugar
¼ cup (55 ml) red wine
Marinate steak for an hour or more in the above ingredients. But 15 minutes is better than nothing. Tatiana would sometimes marinate all day.
“That Chang Hao,” Alexander said, finishing off second, third helpings. “He clearly was a superior teacher.”
Stuffed Shells on the Stove
Sometimes Tatiana’s restorative measures took a step back. Stuffed cabbage was such a time. She just couldn’t leave it alone.
1941:
“Tania, can you make stuffed cabbage for dinner tomorrow?”
“Of course, Alexander. If there is meat in the stores, I will try.”
1947:
“Please, Shura, please. Can I make stuffed cabbage for dinner tomorrow?”
“No, Tania.”
“But your son loves it so much.”
“No, Tania. He loves bread pudding, too. Make that instead.” He retreated into silence and cigarettes again. Why did she have to open her mouth?
She stopped asking.
Tatiana did not make stuffed cabbage again until Alexander went to Vietnam in 1969—but by then, Anthony, the boy who had loved stuffed cabbage was also gone, and her other children, having never seen meat wrapped inside a cabbage, refused to eat it. She ate it by herself over a course of several days, and then threw the rest out, retre
ating into silence while remembering a life long gone, and living in dread fear for the present life that felt as if it might also soon be gone.
Anthony didn’t need restoring. His mother was back; he spent every day with her. They were at the beach and on the swings all day. And in the mornings, he went with his dad on the boats. Anthony wore his cap and tried to be very serious, like his dad. He watched him to imitate him, he tried to deepen his voice, to slow it down, to stop it from inflecting, so he could sound like his dad. And when his dad was silent, as he was so often, Anthony was silent, too.
“Daddy wasn’t always like that, honey,” Tatiana said to Anthony one late afternoon when they had been on the beach playing. Anthony had asked her if Dad had forgotten most of his English perhaps, having been away so long. Had he forgotten Russian, too?
“He hasn’t forgotten. He is just thinking things.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know.” Tatiana wasn’t about to tell a four-year-old the truth. “Maybe he’s thinking he is hungry. Or maybe he is thinking he is tired.”
“He seems sad,” declared Anthony.
And that’s when Tatiana said that he wasn’t always like that. “He used to be a kid, like you, Ant. He used to run, and play ball, and chase me.”
“Dad used to chase you?” Anthony couldn’t believe it.
“Yes. We want to get him like that again.”
“Yes,” said Ant. And the next morning, on the boat with Alexander, waiting for the first wave of people to come, he said, “Dad, what kind of food do you like?”
“Food? Well, I like all kinds, bud.”
“Everything?”
“No, not everything. You know I don’t like cabbage.”
Now it was Anthony’s turn to hang his head. He loved cabbage.
“Mommy can cook other things you like. I like everything else Mommy feeds us.”
“Mommy is the best cook in the world.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Vikki is a terrible cook.”
“Not everyone’s perfect, bud.”
“But what do you really like? Really, really?”
Alexander contemplated. “I really like stuffed shells.”
“Stuffed shells? Like Isabella made that one time for you?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.”
When Alexander came home that evening from his afternoon run on the boat, he asked what they were having.
“Stuffed shells,” said Tatiana.
Alexander glanced over at Anthony who had an impenetrable look on his face. He stared back at his father, for a second, two, and then Alexander winked. Anthony tried to wink back. He scrunched up his face and winked with both eyes.
Because Tatiana learned from Isabella, and Isabella made her own ricotta, in Miami Tatiana made her own, with four parts milk and one part buttermilk. Years later, when they settled in Arizona, and ricotta cheese was hard to find, she continued to make her own. But store-bought is certainly less fuss.
Stuffed Shells:
5–6 cups (1.125–1.35 liters) simple pasta sauce (here), canned tomato sauce, or passata
1 tablespoon olive oil or butter, plus extra butter for coating pasta
1¼lb (570g) ground beef sirloin
1lb (450g) medium pasta shells
1lb (450g) ricotta
1½lb (700g) mozzarella
salt and pepper, to taste
Prepare simple pasta sauce.
In a large frying pan over medium-high heat, in 1 tablespoon of olive oil or butter, fry the ground beef until completely cooked through, but not browned. Add salt and pepper to taste.
Par-boil the pasta shells in a large, heavy-bottom pot, drain, mix a little butter into the shells so they don’t stick.
Meanwhile, grate the mozzarella cheese. Add the ground beef to the shells, stir, add the pound of ricotta, stir. Add three-quarters of the prepared sauce, stir. Add half the grated mozzarella, stir carefully, then add the rest, don’t stir, but cover completely and heat through on medium-low heat until the mozzarella on top is melted and the sauce is bubbly.
Serve with garlic bread (here).
They fell away from the table. Alexander said, “I’m so full, I can’t move.”
Anthony said, “I’m so full, I can’t move.”
Alexander pushed his chair away. Anthony pushed his chair away. Alexander rubbed his stomach with the palms of his hands. Anthony rubbed his stomach with the palms of his hands. Alexander lit a cigarette, picked up the paper, but after a minute or two put it down. Anthony was still sitting across from him, looking into his own picture book—without a cigarette.
“Ant,” said Alexander. “Let’s go to the beach. I feel like swimming.”
“Really?”
“Really. I’ll teach you how to get away from the sharks.”
“Whaaaaat?”
“Shura …”
Alexander continued undaunted. “Yes. You know how? I’ll pretend to be a shark, I’ll chase you, and you’ll have to get away from me. It’s early evening, prime shark feeding time in these waters. Okay? Let’s go. The sharks are hungry, too. Tania, come. Where’s your bathing suit?”
Shepherd’s Pie
“Dad, Mom is going to make you shepherd’s pie tonight,” said Anthony. They were walking to the boat in the early morning. Anthony was running along, trying to keep up.
“She is? What is it?”
“I think you’ll like it. Wait till tonight.”
“OK, bud.”
“Are we going to go swimming after dinner again?”
“Depends how good this shepherd’s pie is.” With one hand, Alexander hoisted Anthony up and ran with him the rest of the way.
That evening, Alexander tried shepherd’s pie for the first time. Meat mixed with corn and carrots covered with a layer of mashed potatoes which were covered with a layer of cheese. There was nothing not to like.
“Tania, where’d you learn how to make this? Wait, let me guess,” said Alexander. “From Chang Hao?” He was smiling.
Tatiana tutted.
Alexander laughed. She told him she had adjusted the recipe for beef instead of lamb, and for fresh meat instead of leftovers. “Good choice,” said Alexander. “Well, Ant? Ready to go swimming?”
“Yes! But please. Don’t be a shark today, Dad.”
“All right, bud. Tonight the sharks are full.”
¼ cup (50g) butter, or olive oil
1 medium onion, grated or very finely chopped
2 cloves garlic, grated very finely chopped
2lb (900g) ground beef sirloin
¼ cup (50g) tomato paste
6 tablespoons all-purpose (plain) flour
2 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce
2 tablespoons soy sauce
3 cups (675ml) beef stock
1 cup (225ml) red wine or beer
salt and pepper, to taste
3–4 carrots, peeled and thinly sliced
1 cup (165g) frozen corn kernels
4lb (1.8kg) mashed potatoes (here)
5oz (150g) sharp cheddar cheese, grated
5oz (150g) Monterey Jack or other hard mild cheese, grated
¼ cup (15g) breadcrumbs
In a large skillet heat butter or oil on medium-high, and brown onion for 3–4 minutes, and then garlic for 30 seconds. Add meat, brown. Turn heat down slightly, add tomato paste and flour and stir until fully absorbed into the meat. Add Worcestershire sauce, soy sauce, beef stock and red wine, or beer, mix well, and simmer uncovered. Add carrots, simmer on low for 10 minutes, while you prepare the mashed potatoes. Add corn, stir, continue cooking. Add a little water, if necessary. The mixture should be thick and juicy but not runny. Preheat the oven to 350°F (180°C). Spoon mixture into a large casserole dish with deep sides. Arrange mashed potatoes on top, leveling off with a spatula. Sprinkle with grated cheese. Sprinkle with breadcrumbs. Bake for 30 minutes or until bubbly.
Chili
“Chili, Tania?”
“Chili, Alexander. With corn bread.”
“Corn bread. Of course. Two things you like. Am I going to like this corn bread?”
“I think you’re going to love it.”
“Hmm. I think you’re outdoing yourself.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible. You won’t let me cook anything I actually know how to cook.”
“Yes, but look at the things you’re cooking.”
“Hmm. No Russian food.”
“That’s the point.”
3 tablespoons olive oil
2 tablespoons butter
1 large onion, very finely chopped
3 garlic cloves, minced
2lb (900g) ground beef sirloin salt, to taste
4 tablespoons chili powder
32oz (900g) canned red kidney beans, with juice
16oz (450g) canned tomato sauce, or 2 cups (450ml) passata
1 cup (225ml) water
To garnish:
8oz (225g) sharp cheddar cheese, grated
cilantro (coriander)
green (spring) or white onions, very finely chopped
sour cream
boiled white rice, to serve
Preheat heavy bottom 6-quart (4.5-liter) pan on medium. Add olive oil and butter, heat for 2–3 minutes. Add onion, cook until transparent and lightly golden. Add garlic, cook for a minute, turn heat to medium-high, add sirloin, cook, stirring and breaking up into little pieces, until cooked through. Add salt, chili powder, stir, add kidney beans with juices, tomato sauce, water, cover, cook for 20–30 minutes, while the rice cooks.
Serve over white rice, topped with shredded cheese and, if you like, onions, cilantro, and sour cream, with corn bread on the side. Tatiana knew that some people skipped the rice and served chili right over the corn bread. But the bread was sweet, and the chili was savory. Alexander ate the chili over the rice and the corn bread.