The Joy of Plov

“Buy plov. It’s 249 rubles. It won’t betray you. It won’t deceive you. It will love you. Happiness doesn’t cost that much.”

George Zotov
Facebook
June 24, 2021

To the point of tears, you can say.

Moreover, plov is suitable for both men and women.

You can add that plov never smokes in bed.

Plov’s parents never come for visits.

Plov won’t object if you put exactly the kind of meat that you like in it.

Plov doesn’t have social network account.

For 249 rubles, you can do whatever comes to mind with plov. There is no one in the world authorized to protect the rights of plov.

Plov is never interviewed in the media.

However, in our country it is not customary to make your relationship with plov official: no one will register your marriage.

You can take two different portions of plov at the same time, one hot, the other cold. No one’s going to judge you.

Plov may treat you coldly, but it’s easy to warm up.

If you’re in a bad mood you can call plov a soulless bastard, and it will be true. It won’t object to being called a bastard, and British scientists have not announced the discovery of plov’s “soul.”

The statement that plov will always love you is controversial because we rarely love those who devour us. On the other hand, no one has asked Pilaf’s opinion on the matter.

No, George hasn’t not been smoking something. It’s the end of the week and the fucking heat is killing him, just like everybody else.

© Zотов

Thanks to Sergey Abashin for the heads-up. Translated by the Russian Reader

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At Tashkent Supermarket in Brighton Beach, where the screech of the elevated subway echoes through the aisles, one will encounter what might be the city’s longest and largest buffet, a collection of prepared foods fit for an oligarch’s wedding. Sauteed Russian potatoes smell of garlic. Georgian peppers glisten in their Twizzlers-red sheen. Samsa pastries hide fistfuls of lamb beneath their oven-burnished exteriors. And bright red oil pools around ropy strands of Lagman noodles.

All this food sits and steams in over 200 self-serve trays, each located on one of two separate islands, the longer of which spans more than 50 feet. These aren’t so much food buffets as gastronomic yachts. The two structures hold more than 36 salads, even more meat dishes, fried whole fish, fried calamari, grilled salmon, cans of Pringles, sesame chicken, lots of things with lots of mayonnaise, and something extraordinarily purple called “fantasy salad.” What’s a fantasy salad? A terrine of chicken, mayo, and beets, all hidden underneath a bedazzled roof of pomegranate seeds. The tiny berries glow with the force of a Times Square billboard.

Such sensory pleasures are par for course here at Tashkent, a sprawling, late-night ode to the multi-ethnic splendor of Central Asia — and the city’s substantial Uzbek population. The owners shelled out $18 million this spring for a larger location in Bensonhurst, the Commercial Observer reported in April, and a general manager tells me at least four other Tashkent outposts will debut in the coming months. In the meantime, one will continue to encounter serious crowds at the flagship on Brighton Beach Avenue.

Source: Ryan Sutton, “Tashkent Supermarket Is Home to One of NYC’s Greatest Hot Buffets,” Eater, June 10, 2021. Thanks to Sergey Abashin, again, for the heads-up.

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