Здравствуите!
This is FJH ex-pat Gabriel Mathews, reporting in now as Foreign Correspondent from St. Petersburg, Russia! I hope to inform all of our many readers about the ways in which sustainability, eco-friendliness, and FOOD JUSTICE are (not) practiced in the Motherland!
Let's begin with the good: Russia actually seems to have some (possibly accidentally) decent sustainable practices in place. For example, one must pay extra to receive a plastic bag at a grocery store, I have yet to see a single paper towel, and water is not automatically waiting for you when you arrive at a restaurant*! I'm not sure if these are measures designed for sustainability's sake, or if they're simply relics from Soviet rationing, but in any case, Russians seem to like to use only what they need, which is pretty cool.
Things that are not so cool: I'm pretty sure the concept of "eating locally" does not really exist. Not to say that all food was imported into the country—they do grow their own wheat, beef, milk, pork, chicken, cabbage, and potatoes. But if you're looking for anything with vitamins in it, you're probably going to end up buying something that's been shipped long distances, which is most unfortunate. Also, and this
is a relic of Soviet rationing, all building heat is on at a constantly high rate, uncontrollable in individual rooms, or even apartments. In fact, I'm fairly sure each block is on it's own system, so basically, natural resources are being used to overheat buildings nonstop. Also, I've noticed that Russians pretty much don't care about wasting water (this realization struck me when the toilet in my apartment broke, so that the water just ran endlessly down the drain, and no one seemed in any sort of rush to fix it).
So, given Russia's general disinclination towards intentional eco-friendliness, I was immediately intrigued the first time I saw a bottle of Drova "Ecological Vodka" on the shelves of a продукти. Drova, as far as I can tell (there is very little information available about it on the web) is of Finnish origin, but purports to be bottled in Russia. A Moscow Times article describes it as "organic vodka," but I was unable to continue reading this article, as I am not a subscriber. It comes in three varieties, distinguished by, get this,
the type of wood used to make the charcoal through which the vodka was filtered. I can't remember exactly which woods are available, but I know one is birch (I will get back to you on the matter). Drova comes in pretty bottles, designed to look like pieces of wood:
As I am not currently of age in my home country of the US of A, I have not been drinking here in Russia, as it would be against the laws of the country in which I do not currently reside for me to do so, and I am a thoroughly law-abiding citizen. So, unfortunately, I was unable to sample this magical eco-vodka myself. However, I asked my friend, code-named BobbySox for his own protection, to give me a rundown on his opinion of this vodka. I unfortunately cannot remember at the moment which charcoal variant we sampled, but I'll post a comment as soon as I have it figured out.
BobbySox's initial reaction to the lovely taste of Drova was a distinct retching noise, followed by a face of utter disgust. "This tastes like straight rubbing alcohol," he said. "No more! I will have no more!" I have to admit, his empty glass certainly smelled like nothing other than rubbing alcohol, or pure grain ethanol. "How was the finish?", I asked him. "Finish?" BobbySox replied, "I wasn't paying attention. The start and the middle were both too foul." However, despite his assertion that he wouldn't touch any more of the stuff, BobbySox managed to singlehandedly finish off the liter we purchased for only 211 rubles! That's around seven bucks! Vodka is absurdly cheap here.
So what is the moral of the story? Well, I'm not quite sure. Clearly, the Finns, at the very least, understand the current trendiness of claiming to be "ecofriendly" and "organic" and locally produced. Whether or not Drova is actually any of these things remains unclear. The one certainty that emerged from this pretty typical Russian scenario is that BobbySox had a pretty fun night, but a pretty awful morning. And that's why you avoid anything the Russian's don't want to touch.
Until next time:
Comrade Mathews, signing out.
*This last bit is primarily because tap water here is essentially toxic, so any water you're drinking is probably bottled, and super expensive, meaning I spend all my time in a constant state of dehydration, except at my homestay, where my awesome host family has a filtered water tap installed! WATER JUSTICE.
