{"id":16391,"date":"2011-06-01T11:20:18","date_gmt":"2011-06-01T15:20:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/?p=16391"},"modified":"2018-12-12T16:27:30","modified_gmt":"2018-12-12T21:27:30","slug":"the-place-of-the-flavored-vodkas","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.theparisreview.org\/blog\/2011\/06\/01\/the-place-of-the-flavored-vodkas\/","title":{"rendered":"The Place of the Flavored Vodkas"},"content":{"rendered":"

\u201cThe Russian Samovar: The Place of the Flavored Vodkas,\u201d read the TV screens above the bar: an apt summary, and a reprimand to anyone ordering beer.\u00a0Horseradish is the vodka of men; ginger is a crowd-pleaser; pomegranate has a reputation as the girlie vodka. Last Tuesday, in honor of the restaurant\u2019s twenty-fifth\u00a0anniversary, friends of the proprietor Roman Kaplan gathered to pay tribute and drink from his array of flavored vodkas.<\/p>\n

Samovar cofounder Mikhail Baryshnikov ordered horseradish vodka. \u201cHorseradish,\u201d said our companion. \u201cThat\u2019s what Baryshnikov got? I trust him.\u201d Baryshnikov\u2019s TV alter ego brought Carrie Bradshaw to the Samovar on Sex and the City<\/em>, but tonight he was in better company. He availed himself of the buffet\u2014dumplings, sliced fish, beet-striped layer cake, a bowl of bright green pickles\u2014and snapped pictures of his dining companions with a digital camera.<\/p>\n

\u201cMazel Tov!\u201d said Philip Roth to Roman when he arrived around eight-thirty, in the middle of several Russian speeches. Roman had already spoken and enjoyed a postspeech indoor cigarette. To Alexander Izbitser, the dapper house pianist, Roth apologized for his own khakis and blazer. He promised he\u2019d wear his tux for the fiftieth. Roman, Baryshnikov, and poet Joseph Brodksy opened the Samovar in 1986. Tuesday night was the anniversary of the late Brodsky\u2019s birth. According to Roman, it also marked sixteen years of Samovar poetry readings as well as twenty-five years of the restaurant.<\/p>\n

Mark Krotov\u2014an editor at Farrar, Straus and Giroux and cocoordinator of the publisher\u2019s Samovar reading series\u2014said that his grandmother keeps calling to tell him about tributes on Russian radio to Roman and the Samovar. Krotov advocated the dill vodka.<\/p>\n

Upstairs, Baryshnikov switched to pomegranate. Downtairs, the Yale Russian Chorus began to sing. A British Gay Talese doppelganger enjoyed this very much. \u201cEncore, encore,\u201d he shouted, and explained to those standing nearby that choral singing was essential to the Russian soul. The Chorus created the impression of non-WASP Whiffenpoofs, favoring sonorous bellows over warbling. But they are not, strictly speaking, old country emissaries. As Philip Roth and Judith Thurman explained to us, the group was founded as an anti-McCarthy gesture by broad-minded undergrads in the early 1950s.<\/p>\n

Roth started coming regularly to the Samovar around fifteen years ago. Business was better in those days, he said\u2014of course, it was the late nineties. He met Roman; they became friends. \u201cI come here sometimes alone,\u201d Roth said, just to dine with the proprietor. What do they talk about? \u201cDeath,\u201d interjected Thurman. \u201cI mostly listen,\u201d said Roth. Roman tells him about his problems, about his past. Sometimes he reads Roth Russian poetry. \u201cDo you think he\u2019s courting me?\u201d Roth asked.<\/p>\n

Perhaps, but Roman has plenty of admirers and he has little need to woo. A large colored-pencil portrait hangs on the wall of the back dining room upstairs. Before a red and green background, Roman smokes a pipe, flanked by the floating heads of Stalin and Nicholas II. The artist was in attendance: Igor Tulipov (\u201clike the flower\u201d), a small white-haired man with a green jacket and a daisy in his lapel. He explained that the drawing was from 2007, and that the woman whose face floats in a samovar is Roman\u2019s wife. The drawing\u2019s cat is more of a composite. \u201cNot exactly one of his cats,\u201d said Tulipov, \u201cbut he has three.\u201d Bread and flowers hover near the majestic Roman, and plants with fork hands present various beverages. After speaking with us, Tulipov planted himself alone at a table in the back. Elsewhere on the walls are a SMOKING PERMITTED<\/small> sign, a poster of the Twin Towers, posters from poetry readings. The lamps downstairs are fringed and hanging; the lamps upstairs are made out of samovars. A photo at one of the downstairs tables shows Roman with Roth and Nicole Kidman. He met them while they were making The Human Stain<\/em>.<\/p>\n

One young Russian woman said she\u2019d first met Roman when she was thirteen. Her poet cousin sometimes reads at the Samovar, she told us. She alternately hung on the arms of assorted elder-bearded men and made out with her hipster-bearded boyfriend.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy I am here: because my driver\u2019s license is expiring,\u201d said Maxim Shostakovich, the conductor son of Dmitri.\u00a0He was just in New York for a few days. In the photo he produced from his wallet, his beard was much darker.<\/p>\n

As the buffet disappeared and the crowd retreated into thickets (Baryshnikov and Roth had already departed), we asked Roman how he felt the night had gone.<\/p>\n

\u201cPhenomenal,\u201d he said\u2014without emphasis, stating the obvious. He then warmed to the topic, or perhaps decided to indulge us. \u201cI have friends that I love, everywhere!\u201d he added, and gestured expansively. \u201cI have people that I love! What more is there?\u201d<\/p>\n

Well, flavored vodka, we suppose.<\/p>\n

Molly Fischer is a writer in New York.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cThe Russian Samovar: The Place of the Flavored Vodkas,\u201d read the TV screens above the bar: an apt summary, and a reprimand to anyone ordering beer.\u00a0Horseradish is the vodka of men; ginger is a crowd-pleaser; pomegranate has a reputation as the girlie vodka. Last Tuesday, in honor of the restaurant\u2019s twenty-fifth\u00a0anniversary, friends of the proprietor […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":182,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[419],"tags":[2411,2410,2344,799,99,2409,447,2408],"class_list":["post-16391","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-arts-culture","tag-flavored-vodka","tag-judith-thurman","tag-mikhail-baryshnikov","tag-party","tag-philip-roth","tag-roman-kaplan","tag-russia","tag-russian-samovar"],"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\nThe Place of the Flavored Vodkas by Molly Fischer<\/title>\n<meta name=\"description\" content=\"June 1, 2011 \u2013 \u201cThe Russian Samovar: The Place of the Flavored Vodkas,\u201d read the TV screens above the bar: an apt summary, and a reprimand to anyone ordering\" \/>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, 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