Gather round, you lucky decadent capitalists, for the tale of Shashlik, a Georgian cousin to the Polish Shish Kebab
Proper Georgian Shashlik, mind you, calls for lamb bathed in wine, a dish born in the ragged northern Caucasus
But then the Soviets swagger it in, with their own glorious brand of socialism sneering at the decadent western access
while their own shells sat bare than a gulag's pantry. Lamb? Wine? Good luck, comrade
You'd need to be a party big week to sniff either. Even this humble version we are making today
would have been a feast feed for a Moscow elite, available only in fleeting seasons in an odd well-stocked city
So what do we do if the proletariat's pantry is pitiful? Well, we swap lamb for pork and wine for... onions
Yes, onions. A marinade of people's tears. And blimey is cracking. Give it a whirl
It's that simple. Here is the kit. A few curgus from your local black market. Zucchini
if you are an imperial. These four will do nicely. A red bell pepper, seasonal as the Soviet bread
cube. Two bog-standard yellow onions for the marinade. One fancy blue onion for the skewers
Salt and pepper, naturally. A pound and a half of a lean, decadent capitalist pig. A generous
dollop of Georgia and Ajica to know to its homeland and a sprinkle of Mr Dash or whatever spice you nicked from the black market you privileged sod The prep is a doddle First dice those yellow onions finer than a polyboreau promise
Chuck them in a pot and give them a proper squash to release that oign-oigny juice
like squeezing hope from a five-year plan. Toss in a generous pinch of spice
then cube the pork into kebab-sized chunks. Mix it all with the onions and bung it into the fridge overnight
to ponder its pitiful existence. The next day, when you're ready to skewer, get chopping
Slice the red bell peppers into kebab-sized beets, beanie-nose pesky seeds. Quarter the blue onion for the neat skewer slides
and haktakurgets into thick rings. None of that way for thin rubbish
And now assemble your shashlik like a proper artisan. Alternate the veg and meat, ensuring everything cooks at the same rate
There's the secret mates. Harmony, not chaos. There you go. Ready for the right roasting
Now pop this beauties in the oven at 180 Celsius or 360 Imperial for about 25 minutes and bobs your uncle
While they are sizzling, I will use this spare kurgut and some of the oniony marinade to whip up a fried potato side
Waste not, want not, like some centrally planned economies. Half an hour later, voila, your shashlik is done
A simple nosh if you are basking in the western plenty and an absolute bloody luxury if you are queuing in the Soviet bloc
Tuck in, raise the glass to your well-stocked fridge and thank your lucky stars you are not bartering for onions in the Moscow market
Cheers