🚀 go-pugleaf

Uzbekistan isn't just a country -- it's a restaurant! The one we ate 
at last night, to be precise, on the corner of Sunset and La Brea.

I'd like to think that the clientele at Uzbekistan are refugees 
from the inhuman regime of Islam "Boil the People!" Karimov, but it 
looked more like a mobster hangout to me.  No matter -- but still.

Rule number one when eating Uzbeki: order less. No, seriously, 
whatever you're eyeing on the menu, halve it. Not only are portions 
huge (a "cup" of soup is 12oz, a "bowl" a bit over a pint), but 
the meal starts out with a giant loaf of delicious bread and 
cheese spread. And whatever's on the table, you're going to want 
to eat. 

We each had soup and we split three appetizers, and the uneaten 
portion could have fed half of Andijon. We're not sufficiently 
wise in the ways of Former Soviet food to know the difference between 
Uzbeki specialties and those from other republics (and they serve 
Tajiki, Khyrgyz, Russian and Ukrainian dishes, too), so we didn't 
order as well as we could have to meet our minimum RDA of 
Uzbeki goodness.

I had solianka (one of my favorite soups ever -- and it's even 
better here than at Traktir, near Santa Monica and Fairfax), and 
the Resident Lurker had some other funky soup, which he reports 
was saved by its wonderful dumplings.

For our appetizers, we had blini with caviar (hard to beat that -- and
yes, I know that Uzbekistan doesn't border on the Caspian, but I
have it on good authority that they eat a lot of caviar) parmuda 
(very much like knishes), and bugina, a roast pork loin. The bugina 
was supposed to be served with horseradish but wasn't -- and it was 
both dry and dull. Once Himself asked for the horseradish, though, 
it was much improved: I'd say it went from a 4 to a 8 on a scale of 10.

All of this was washed down with Zhiguliovskoye beer, which was 
downright narsty but still tasted like beer. Beer fermented from
cabbage, perhaps, but beer nonetheless.  Which is to say, I 
drank some of mine but I didn't finish it. Yeah, I know -- beer foul.
So sue me.  Just don't boil me in the stuff.



Rage away,

meg



-- 

Meg Worley  _._  meg@steam.stanford.edu  _._  Comparatively Literate