Russian Invasion

I have to say that I am impressed about the infiltration of Russians and other former Soviet-Unionites in the Chicago suburbs. We saw them at the Northbrook playground and in the library, and furthermore they have opened an Uzbec restaurant in Buffalo Grove. And the good troopers that my in-laws are, they agreed to take us there (the Tribune gave it a 2 forks review).

This restaurant trip was a total immersion into the ex-soviet culture. Needless to say, we were the only non-soviets in the restaurant, where 2 large vodka-drinking toast-saying, 4-hours-at-a-stretch-table-sitting parties have gathered to hog most of the space. We have eaten, gotten bored, paid up and left, and they were just starting on their main course. While I do understand where these people were coming from, as far as sitting around the big table and speaking in their shrill-drunk voices - this is how most soviets gather, I have just gotten very unused to that manner of celebrations after living in the States for 15 years. Russian MTV with bad singers attempting to look slutty entertained us for a little bit, and the food was a good approximation of what most Russians think Plov and Chicken Tabaka should taste like (garlic, if you were wondering). The waiters were very nice and served us quickly and patiently, and nobody batted an eye at Eva running around the table and playing with her books and toys.

And then a slightly-menacing tatooed-fingers guy grabbed a bowl of hard candy and came up to our table (he was a guest, not service, just to make that clear). "Here, princess, candy eat" is about the direct translation of what he said, while Eva stared at the nerds and runts and other choking hazards. My poor child, who is not used to strangers just lowered her eyes and stood there quietly, while I told the guy that she cannot eat this candy yet. The guy insisted that she will eat it and we just took the whole bowl from him and said thank you, while he explained in his broken English that it warms his heat to look at such a pretty little girl. And then we left, and I thanked my lucky stars for a millionth time that we no longer live in Russia where things like this are not considered rude and abnoxious and inappropriate or dangerous.

We have these friends who say that I can single-handedly stop the inflow of foreign tourists into Russia, since my stories have completely turned them off going there. And the thing is, I don't make them up, I just tell things how they happen. This story is not meant to turn you off going to ex-soviet restaurants, in fact, I encourage it, but just be prepared for having an experience that is completely different from a typical restaurant on this side of the iron curtain.