Vodka Tasting (#1)

Last night four of us conducted a blind taste-test of six common vodkas. We included four middle of the road bottles that we always see in restaurants and bars (Five Lakes, Green Label, Putinka and Parliament; each approximately $5 per half liter*), one crappy vodka (Russian Legend; about $2.5 per half liter), and one expensive bottle (Russian Diamond; about $10 per half liter). We bought some olives to make sure the event was classy.

There were two goals: to find the most drinkable yet reasonably priced vodka, and to see if there is a discernible difference between low end and high end bottles. The way I saw it, it was a win-win situation - either we confirmed that our palates were sufficiently honed to detect different vodka echelons, or we discovered that a low-priced bottle would be sufficiently drinkable for our needs.

After outlining different tests - sipability, swishability, mouth-feel, throat-feel, eye-burn - we got down to business. Most of them were drinkable. And, as expected, we all chose the least expensive as the worst, describing it as something we wouldn't drink again but may be able to use to strip varnish.

The biggest surprise was that we all rated the most expensive choice, Russian Diamond, as second worst, while we all rated one of the middle of the road selections, Putinka, as the smoothest with the softest flavor. And, yes, it's named after you know who.

Stay tuned for Vodka Tasting Round #2, when we include Russian Standard and Stolichnaya.

*For metrictards: one half liter is approximately 10 shots if you pour a biggish 50 mL shot (I believe a standard shot in the US is closer to 40mL). So you pay 50 cents per shot if you buy a bottle, which might explain part of the drinking problem in this country.

City Planning

Question: If you were a city planner, would you put your bus stops before or after cross-walks?

It seems to me that it would be much more efficient if bus stops were before cross walks; that way the bus only has to stop once and people can cross at the same time. But in Vlad most of the bus stops come after cross walks and traffic lights. Any thoughts on why this might be?

Big Races

The other day I was surfing channels and saw a bunch of grown men in chicken suits riding bikes around an obstacle course. I was intrigued.

Turns out it's a show called "Big Races." Apparently it's based on a BBC show called "It's a Knockout" which ran from 1966 to 1982; a version ran in the States as "Almost Anything Goes" in 1975 and 76.

There were four teams, each representing a different country, which competed for points in a series of strange events. One event had members of each time trying to stand on specially marked patches of ground in a bull pen while the bull roamed around trying to gore them. It was pretty cool.

The four teams were Russia, the U.S., China and Belarus but I have no idea why those four countries were represented and they never explained who any of the non-Russian competitors were. The Russian team, however, was interviewed at frequent intervals throughout the show; they also did sideline interviews with famous Russian athletes who were present to cheer on their side.

Despite a commanding American lead going into the final event, the Russian team won (surprise). According to the Russian Wikipedia page on the show, only one other team has won in the five seasons the show has run - China, in the first season.

The show is a good example of Russia's lite nationalism. Go to any sporting event, or really any public event in this country and you will see people waving Russian flags, even if the event has nothing to do with international competition. When I went to the beauty pageant last week there were five or six people in the audience with Russian flags who would wave them at intervals, while people were applauding or during a dance number.

Think about how this show would work in the States: there would be teams comprised of immigrants from their respective countries; they would do heartfelt backstories about how their family escaped civil war and fled to the U.S. and the children became successful restaurateurs; the stands would be filled with true compatriots who excitedly cheered their team; there would be flags and paraphernalia from each of the countries; the Spanish team would joke that they have more experience running away from bulls.

None of these things were apparent in this show. It seemed pretty clearly designed to make Russians feel good about themselves and their country and to cram as much flag-waving into a timeslot as possible. It's also a product of Channel One, one of the government-owned stations. At the end of the show the announcer asked us to "tune in next time and cheer Russia to victory!"

Little Miss Sex Bomb

So last night I attended "Miss Golden Autumn." My ticket refers to it as an "Entertainment Show," but I think most Americans would refer to it as a "beauty pageant" or a "beauty contest." I'll refer to it as "Russia's best attempt to make a 25 year old, red-blooded American male feel extremely awkward."

Here's why: despite the pastoral title, the way you determine Miss Golden Autumn is not through pie-baking, adroitness with a scythe or knowledge of animal husbandry but through a series of half-naked dance routines set to Tom Jone's "Sex Bomb." Awkward enough yet? If not, I should mention that the first contestant was 15 years old and few looked much older. More awkward? Let me add that I was invited to the event by one of my professors, who was also in attendance. Quite awkward you say? Final fact: her daughter was one of the competitors. Hey ya!

It took place at a city auditorium, almost all of the 200+ seats filled. There was a panel of judges and loveably inept presenters. The stage looked like it could have doubled as a high school set for "A Midsummer Night's Dream."

The first round was the "Presentation" phase. Each of the contestants got a few minutes to present some information about themselves. Some of the girls had prepared short slideshows set to music. If you asked a teenage girl to conduct a live reenactment of her Myspace page, this is what it would look like.

There were eight of them, almost all tall and blond. I had trouble keeping track of them. After the presentation round, only four left an impression on my mind: #1, because she was short, the only brunette, had immediately tripped over her words and was forced to restart; #4 because she was serene despite being heftier and clumsier than the rest, like participating in a beauty pageant was the way she relaxed after a week of elk hunting; #5 because she was the tallest, she strutted and was the only one who already seemed like a woman, and because she had a look on her face that said if she didn't win she was going to defenestrate one of the judges; and of course #7 because she was the teacher's daughter. I'll refer to her from now as "7".

After the Presentation round came the Talent portion. All of my favorites were reaffirmed: #1 because her strategy to win the title of Russia's "Miss Golden Autumn" was to dance a Cha-Cha-Cha in a pink tu-tu; #4 because she sang beautifully, was planted to one spot while on stage, and wore a completely unsexy dress-suit; #5 because she wore a red leotard with rips all up the legs, and because she looked like she might jump off stage to throttle the sound engineer if her song didn't play at the correct volume.

And of course 7, who I was bound by obligation to cheer for. I really wanted to. And I was relieved because she was wearing a modest sort of jazzy-1920's outfit with a top hat. But from the way the bass hit me in the chest when the music started, I knew it would not be tame. There was a lot of thrusting and undulating. The chorus of the song repeated "Let's do it on the beach, let's do it on the street. Let's do it in the car, wherever you are." She dipped in forward-sweeping gestures which, based on the design of her shirt, would have obligated me to look away under normal circumstances. At some point the audience started clapping to the beat. A relief! A godsend! It gave my hands something to do other than feel clammy.

Throughout the performance I did my best to look like I was watching someone else's home videos or looking at pictures from a colleague's recent trip abroad: respectful and slightly bored. Eye contact and smiling were avoided.

After the Talent phase came a hybrid evening-wear / wedding-dress phase. Having already tripped over her words, #1 kept tripping on her dress and at some point just decided to hold the front of it in both hands. I liked her determination. 7 looked elegant and nonplussed. When the round was over I turned to give a thumbs up to my teacher, then turned away and said a silent prayer that there would be no Swimwear round.

Prayer answered. The show concluded shortly thereafter and we we waited anxiously while the judges tallied the scores. I felt sincerely nervous for 7, a sort of nervousness I usually only get when watching a Game 7 in the playoffs.

Unfortunately for my professor, her daughter came in third. But she was given the "Audience Choice" award, something I had helped contribute to by writing her name on the back of my ticket and placing it in a ballot box at the end of the last round. I'm glad she got it, because I was secretly cheering for #1, the lone short brunette, who had the audacity to think that she could personify the Russian Fall with a lascivious Cuban dance in a tiny pink skirt.

Could I have been...

...president of Russia?