Due to Ukrainian heritage (yes we self identify as Ukrainians, I’m not certain DNA testing would prove much outside of “random eastern European decent”, there hasn’t been anyone born there in five generations at least.) We decided to check out Ukrainian House.
Situated in a church recreation centre, there aren’t any zip lines or laser light shows here, there’s food and booze. Maybe a little music and t-shirts for sale. It’s actually kinda charming in its lack of pretense and simplicity.
Dinner was the predictable amalgam of starches and animal fats arranged artfully like Daniel Boulud plated it himself. Actually I lie it was thrown into random piles on Royal Chinette. You know at some point a Ukrainian asked “how can we make this dough more starchy, the Greeks are winning the arms race of multiple starches on a single plate? I know, we’ll put mashed potatoes inside the dough.” So you had your pierogies (yet another piece of evidence we’re only pretending to be Ukrainian, as my family has always called them pedahay or pedaha, we’re seemingly the only people on earth to do so.) Garlic coil sausage, cabbage rolls with meat, which to my mind and experience is just putting on airs. We’re so rich in Canada we can have more than a quarter pound of ground beef in a family sized tray of cabbage rolls. That would have never happened in my family. A quick cured cabbage that was really excellent. Garnishes of sour cream (duh) and something I’d never had before; A superb relish of grated beets and horseradish, further evidence to my theory we’re imposters.
Fun bonus fact; The pierogi came to eastern Europe via trade with China, in return Eastern Europe shared their love of flammable colour blocked nylon tracks suits. Almost all of the previous sentence is true!
Dessert was a cake consisting of hazelnut butter cream layering meringues. Not my idea of Ukrainian dessert, which I assume is traditionally more vodka. It was really good regardless. Ukrainian House is a nice low key alternative to the glitz and flash that’s taken over the city, a pleasant alternative to the higher profile national showcases.
And check out my maturity, a whole post about the Ukraine, and not a single reference to hottie Prime Minister Yulia Tymoshenko or her extraordinarily brave hairstyle choices.