A Trip to the Esto Sadok Alcohol Store

In my last entry, I shared the story of going grocery shopping in Russia for the first time. The second time that Sarah and I returned to the Food and Alcohol Market, we had a different target in mind. This time, we were shopping for vodka to take home as souvenirs.

As we stared at the large wall of booze, we met two men working who spoke virtually no English. Neither Sarah nor I were walking around in USA gear on that particular day, so they approached us in Russian. Having studied a bit of Russian on Rosetta Stone before leaving, I was able to respond in Russian when they asked how we were doing, but that was about the extent of my Russian-speaking ability. When they responded again in Russian, I apologized and said I didn't understand.

Instead of shrugging us off like I anticipated, both of the men laughed and smiled. "You know Russian!" one of them exclaimed. They asked, in broken English, what we were looking for.

"Good vodka," we explained, "Gift to bring home to our families." They didn't seem to understand, so I pulled out some random words from Rosetta Stone.

"For maya maht and braht and sistrou?" I said hesitantly (in my Russlish there, I was attempting to describe my family, so I said "For my mom and brother and sister?" Sorry, Dad - I couldn't remember how to say father!).

The men understood and quickly snapped the bottles we had previously grabbed out of our hands in favor of a bottle that looked like a Grey Goose bottle relabeled in Russian. I was a little skeptical, but it did have one key piece of English written on the bottle: "Made in Russia."

We thanked the Russian men and were going to head out, but they wanted to continue talking. One of them, who spoke a few more words in English than the other, asked us to tell him every word of Russian we knew. So, I spouted out a variety of random words: dog, cat, one, two, three, thank you, hello, doctor, etc. They seemed to thoroughly enjoy each and every word I shared.

After awhile, we eventually made our way over to the wafer cookies to replenish our supply. Once there, an older Russian man came over to us and pointed at the vodka bottles Sarah and I were now holding.

"Vodka very bad," he said sternly. We both looked up at him, not quite sure if he was cautioning us against alcohol in general or if we had been tricked into purchasing bad alcohol.

"They said it was good?" we replied. He sighed, clearly frustrated.

"No," he said, "Russian vodka very...make you sick."

We still weren't really sure what he was warning us about, but didn't want to seem ungrateful. So, again, we repeated that the vodka was not for us but a gift for others. He nodded and walked away.

Turns out, Russian vodka is much stronger than American vodka and that was what he was trying to warn us about! We recounted our alcohol store experience to some friends at dinner that evening, and they regaled us with their stories trying Russian vodka for the first time. Although neither Sarah nor I drank much in Russia, I think we were both happy to not have to learn that lesson ourselves!

Russian Waffles, Grocery Stores and Getting Around

Once the excitement of the first few days of the Olympics wore off, Sarah and I were starting to feel like we had gotten into the swing of things. With different events every day, there was no way to get into a real regular schedule, but we had our routines down!

Every evening before going to bed, we looked at the event schedule for the next day and decided what time to wake up. We very quickly realized after the first few days that Sarah was not waking up when her alarm went off (in all fairness, we were working some pretty long days!), so eventually, it was just me setting my alarm and then waking her up in the morning. Neither one of us are morning people, so getting ready in the morning didn't exactly happen quickly! But, eventually we got out the door to breakfast.

Breakfast at our hotel was amazing. They had an incredible spread with everything from an omelette bar to rotating Russian food items to multiple fresh squeezed juices. My typical breakfast consisted of eggs with cheese and tomatoes, fresh squeezed orange juice, coffee and a piece of something I can only describe as chocolate bread. Sometimes, I switched it up with the rotating American-style breakfast item of the day (usually pancakes or waffles) or some muesli.

One morning in particular, I was pretty pumped to see that they had waffles out. However, there was no maple syrup. I asked the woman attending to that area if they had any somewhere that I could have. She very apologetically said they were out for at least a few days. But, as I shrugged and started to thank her anyways, she said, "But we do have sour cream!"

Despite my confusion, I thanked her and returned to my table, where I recounted the story to Sarah. After some quick Googling, we discovered that sour cream is a common pancake/waffle topping in Russia. However, it was not top on my list of things to try since I'm not a big fan of sour cream in the first place!

A few days into our Sochi experience, Sarah and I decided that we needed to hunt down a grocery store. Our schedule was pretty brutal - a typical day started around 9 a.m. with breakfast, followed by a 45-minute bus ride to a venue (the first event of the day was usually around 11 a.m.). Since the venues were that far from our hotel, we typically just stayed up there until the day's events wrapped up (many nights, that wasn't until 1 a.m.) and, after taking our 45-minute bus ride back, were home at the hotel by 2 a.m. Because of that schedule, we found ourselves frequently going without real meals. There were concession stands and media cafeterias, but they were a little lacking and frequently ran out of food before we were able to get there.

So, grocery store it was! We wandered down the street on one of our rare afternoons off and walked into a place whose sign read (in English!) "Food and Alcohol Market." Once inside, we were greeted by a wall of liquor, a refrigerated case of beer and your typical array of checkout line chocolate bars and chip bags. We walked through that area and found grocery items.

Through photos on the packaging, we were able to generally discern what each item was. We found lots of canned meat, caviar-flavored chips, wafer cookies in dozens of flavors and black cherry juice. We ended up leaving with cheese, crackers and wafer cookies. Those wafer cookies would end up tasting like the most glorious food on earth every night when we got home!

We later went back to the alcohol market to purchase some souvenirs...but that's for another blog entry!

Observations about Life in Utah

If you've followed my blogging for awhile, you know that I like to make lists of cultural differences whenever I go someplace new. So, here's some observations on life thus far in Utah.

Sunday has always been my shopping day. I love being lazy and leisurely in the morning, then heading off to get a late breakfast somewhere followed by window shopping at the mall and a trip to Target. In Utah, that's not entirely possible. Before going anywhere, you have to check to see if wherever you want to go is even open on Sundays. Yes, even malls are closed on Sundays here. The Mormon church owns the nicest mall in Salt Lake, so it's closed on Sundays. Even as I'm sitting here writing this, I'm thinking about where I could go get breakfast that's open today.

People CANNOT drive. This is primarily a Salt Lake City thing. I haven't noticed nearly as many awful drivers in Park City. But when I am in SLC? Count on using the horn a LOT. Last weekend, I swear I had to lay on the horn every 30 seconds! It appears that drivers just don't really pay attention to other people, which tends to be a bit of a problem.

Alcohol laws are just weird. You can only buy alcohol in state-run liquor stores (legal monopoly, apparently) unless it's beer that is below a certain percentage. But they measure the percentage differently than the rest of the country...instead of being measured by volume, it's by weight, I think? I don't drink beer so it doesn't really mean a whole lot to me. Other strange things...last call is midnight (a big change from closing down the bars at 3:30am in college!), free pouring of liquor is illegal (all liquor pours must be measured) and you can only have one drink in front of you at a time. Happy hour isn't a thing here, really, either.

Yes, there are lots of Mormons. No, you generally cannot pick them out in a crowd. Mormons are people just like anyone else. I live with two Mormons and they are very down-to-earth, normal people.

There's this strange sort of camaraderie among the non-Mormons in Utah. Aside from certain neighborhoods in SLC and Park City, non-Mormons are definitely the minority, so I guess it just brings people together like any other shared lifestyle choice.

Anyone out there got any other questions about life in Utah?