It’s a well known fact among our circle of expats from the former USSR that their allegiance to the food from step-mama country is always met with derision on my side.
One of the latest stories: Plombir. Granted, while living in Moscow, I enjoyed the said delicacy many times; but that was in Moscow! Since moving away from that paradise on Earth, I sampled a variety of ice creams, many of them either equal or superior. But the abundant availability of frozen treats never stopped almost every Russian-speaking American I know from their Plombir worship.
At one Shavuot celebration, that coveted dessert was served at the meal hosted by a good friend of mine. The anticipated, but still nausea-inducing monologue from one of the grandparents’ generation ensued: “Oh, look, kids, prombir! Wow! That’s real ice cream for you, not the American junk! Real, delicious ice cream! Not American!”, etc, along the same lines, while serving the blessed frozen delicacy.
Since by the time of that meal a long while passed since I sampled that avowed ice cream, I was at least curious - is it really that good, or I am right in persisting that American offerings are at least on the par? After getting my plate, I impersonated a gourmet taster to the best of the knowledge gained through watching countless cooking shows. You want to know what I concluded? There is a vanilla flavored Target brand ice cream that you can get for two ninety nine for a Quart and a half at your local Target that tastes exactly the same! Real, delicious ice cream, my aching coccyx!
