Albena Shkodrova. Communist Gourmet. The Curious Story of Food in the People’s Republic of Bulgaria

Abstract

The traditions of Bulgarian cuisine, admired and appreciated around the world for its variety of unadulterated tastes and oriental sophistication, are at the center of the study of Albena Shkodrova, а gastronomy expert and editor in chief of the famous magazine Bacchus. Her interests in the field of gastronomy and the development of Bulgarian cuisine in the years of the totalitarian regime (1944–1989)—an era marked by the pursuit of mass industrialization and the dominance of the labor element in everyday society—are urged by a very curious reflection of the “spirit of time” in the national cuisine and food production. Undoubtedly, the author recounts the characteristic features of Socialist cuisine—monotonous, produced in huge quantities, and served in canteen-like restaurants. The author’s journalistic spirit provoked her intention to study and develop the topic, on the one hand, as a contemporary of two very different epochs, and on the other hand, as a professional connoisseur of food and food culture. Artfully designed, full of good photographs, and featuring a rich bibliography, Albena Shkodrova’s book is of interest to any curious reader who wants to get to know the Bulgarian totalitarian regime from the perspective of the food industry.In her introduction, Albena Shkodrova points out the importance of the topic of food, the pleasure that every person should experience from it, and the fact that the variety of flavors available does not leave anyone out of its enjoyment. Therefore, the transformation of the food-production process into an industry, instead of an art, takes away the privilege of individuals to try to experience the various flavors, which are undoubtedly bountiful in Bulgaria. The author recalls her participation in a political program on the occasion of the publication of the book in Bulgarian in 2014 and the attack directed at her by a member of parliament (MP) of the Bahujan Samaj Party (BSP), the successor party to the Bulgarian Communist Party, who soon after the beginning managed to turn the topic into a counterpoint in defense of the Communist regime. In her succinct and precise comment, Shkodrova points out that writing about food means covering the entire sociopolitical and cultural conjuncture of the era, which carries a clear message about what the reader can further expect from the book.In an extremely readable and well-structured way, the author takes us back to the past times of Bulgarian totalitarianism, when food was simply a subject of industry. Centrally planned, it was a scarce commodity, with no trademarks because only one item was produced. The beautifully described workplaces in the factories for the production of dairy, meat, and other essentials, along with the workers in white coats, production quotas, Socialist competitions, and overfulfillment of production plans, are only a small part of the historical accounts of the Communist regime in Bulgaria. Looking at the topic through the eyes of the modern European, who in every way avoided the uniform, mass production, A. Shkodrova compares the regime in Bulgaria and the rejection of boutique, personalized, and high-quality production, which was widespread before the Communist coup on September 9, 1944. Until that day, small industrial enterprises processed the agricultural products of private farmers, from which the Communists later took away both the enterprises and the lands and livestock of the private owners.Albena Shkodrova’s book is not only an interesting and curious reading but can also be seen as an attempt to study the Socialist economy in its theoretical and practical direction. The author explains the orientation of the Socialist economy toward economic models in industry, trade, agriculture, and in general, focusing on the necessity of simple management solutions because the state could not rely on the interest, qualities, and capacity of its leaders. According to her and most historians, the Communist economy expressed its “victories” in a subjective way—that is, it was important how people perceived their quality and standard of living. In this direction, the Communist propaganda was able to fabricate all kinds of data to show how successful this or that idea of the “first in the state” Todor Zhivkov was.The author uses chocolate as an example to illustrate the shortages of goods and raw materials during the totalitarian period. Chocolate and cocoa products in general were in demand and highly valued in the Bulgarian market as a suitable gift for every age and taste. The People’s Republic imported little quantities of cocoa from its “fraternal” countries in Latin America, but those imports failed to meet the high demand, turning chocolate into a scarce commodity. Here I would add that coffee was also a scarce commodity, and Bulgarian citizens used a substitute called “Inca”—rye and barley extract. The author recalls the attempts of the Communists to find substitutes for cocoa, among which the most memorable was marzipan. However, unlike the original marzipan—a sweet hazelnut paste—the Bulgarian one was “a sweet, brown sticky block, which tasted vaguely like petrol.” (page 33) With this detailed and very colorful description, Albena Shkordova evokes many childhood memories of the older generation, when the “mysterious sweet” was palmed off to the disappointed children instead of chocolate. The author rightly notes that “fake chocolate”—marzipan, in this case—is the most commonly associated memory of misery and poor-quality food of the generations raised in the totalitarian regime, as its unpleasant taste has left a deep and indelible memory.In addition to the food industry, Albena Shkodrova studies in depth, using many examples, trade services and emerging new standards and customs in the Socialist society. In the form of short interviews, the author reveals the peculiarities of the service in the then-operating trade network and the hotel industry. Recollections of empty shops, impolite staff, and strange phenomena, such as hiding goods “behind the counter,” are just a few of the examples with which the author illustrates her narrative. She highlights the low level of service in the interrupted trading traditions of the Bulgarians and the appointments of low-skilled labor. To her examples and reflections, I would add that jobs in commercial enterprises were preferred by the dominant working class in society compared to those in manufacturing, agriculture, or mining. Shopkeepers and waiters were hired “with ties,” but there were no requirements for any professional qualification or experience. In this way, customers were often served by illiterate people who were unable to add even three-digit numbers. In addition, Bulgarian domestic trade was most often screened for corruption, albeit to no avail. During those years, the Party and state leaders called the theft “defalcation”—that is, when the salesperson registered goods sold on the black market as unfit and discarded. In the 1950s and 1960s, in its summaries, the Bulgarian Militia reported that the crimes committed in Bulgarian commercial enterprises were the most frequent.This wonderful book by the journalist Albena Shkodrova not only reveals the nature of the Socialist food industry in Bulgaria, but it also brings back memories of the dozens of coveted but scarce goods on the market, such as chocolate, Coca-Cola, and exotic fruits. It also recounts the status of the luxury brands of that time, such as Balkantourist and Corecom, which were inaccessible to the average citizen. Her story, refracted through the eyes of dozens of interviewed Bulgarians and foreigners, gives an unambiguous answer to the question of why the Socialist economy failed. For many years, to survive, the Bulgarians overstocked themselves with scarce oil and sugar, for example, and every autumn, they would prepare “winter supplies”—canned seasonal fruits, vegetables, meat, and fish. Such preparation became a traditional family activity, still practiced by some to this day. And Bulgarians love their traditions, as Albena Shkodrova emphasizes, presenting “for dessert” to her book some traditional Bulgarian recipes that I believe the whole world knows and loves.