Ethnos

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The Taste of Nationalism: Food Politics in

Postsocialist Moscow

Melissa L. Caldwell

To cite this article: Melissa L. Caldwell (2002) The Taste of Nationalism: Food Politics in
Postsocialist Moscow, Ethnos, 67:3, 295-319, DOI: 10.1080/0014184022000031185

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Published online: 02 Dec 2010.

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The Taste of Nationalism 2 95

The Taste of Nationalism:

Food Politics in Postsocialist Moscow

Melissa L. Caldwell
Harvard University , usa

abstract In this article I consider how Muscovites cultivate and express nationa-
list sentiments through their food choices. During the last ten years of the post-
socialist transition, Russian consumers have encountered an expanding and increas-
ingly transnational commodity market. Locally produced elements of Russian cuisine
both compete with and imitate foreign food products. In response to perceptions
that foreign cultures are displacing or subsuming local cultural forms, Russian officials
have launched a Buy Russian campaign. Domestic food producers, store clerks,
and customers collaborate to classify foods and other products as either Ours (Nash)
or Not Ours (Ne nash) and describe local goods as superior to foreign goods in
terms of taste, quality, and healthfulness. In their own narratives about consumption
choices, Muscovites echo these nationalist themes by explicitly linking their perso-
nal food experiences with broader political issues. Drawing from ethnographic field-
work on food practices in Moscow (19952001), I suggest that consumption strategies
mediate Muscovites experiences with growing nationalist sentiments in the con-
text of a globalizing Russia.

keywo rds Food, nationalism, Moscow, Russia, postsocialism

I
n summer 2000, I was riding the metro in Moscow when an advertise-
ment overhead caught my ey e. The poster depicted a steaming cup of
fast-cooking ramen noodles, and the caption read: American equipment,
Russian production. We all eat only our [nash] soup. Its noodle time! Dur-
ing the last several years of Russias postsocialist transition, such pairings of
the local and the global, the national and the transnational, have popped up
throughout Moscow on subway w alls, billboards, restaurant menus, transit
maps, and in glossy magazines and plain newspapers. Summertime sidewalk
cafs serve Russian-sty le foods and beverages under umbrellas decorated with

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2 96 melis sa l. caldwell

the logos of global corporations, and the cheerful say ings that cover the plas-
tic bags in which customers purchases are placed are as likely to be in Eng-
lish as they are in Russian. In my riad and complex way s, Russians consump-
tion experiences have been transformed so that the new, post-Soviet Russia
is strategically positioned within the ebb and flow of global advertising; and
juxtapositions such as these are commonplace in local culture.
As a commercial commodity , the West has long been present in daily life
in Russia and other socialist states, both as a foil to state political ideologies
and as a viable economic currency (Berdahl 1 999 b; Crowley 2000; Kelly 1 998 ).
Formerly visitors to what was then the Soviet Union recall surreptitious trans-
actions with local entrepreneurs that involved American blue jeans and ciga-
rettes in exchange for Russian souvenirs. Foreign commodities from West-
ern Europe and North America, when obtainable, were generally procured
only by elites w ith special privileges or by fortunate individuals with fruitful
exchange networks.1 In the post-Soviet period, however, Western commodities
have become widely available throughout Russia and are compelling indica-
tors of the political and economic changes that have occurred in the country
during the last ten y ears. In the first half of the 1 990s, food products from
North America and Western Europe were typically found only in more ex-
pensive, specialty supermarkets that catered to foreigners living in Moscow
and to Russias political and economic elite. By the late 1 990s, the availa-
bility of foreign food products (and other commodities) in Russia has grown
as a result of a combination of such factors as increased production at trans-
national food corporations in Russia, decreased costs associated with imports,
and greater market demand by local consumers. Today Moscow shoppers
can fill their shopping carts w ith American frozen pizzas, German meats and
sausages, Finnish dairy products, and Chinese noodles and spices. Sidewalk
stands selling sausages and chops from the local state-ow ned meat factory,
or milk products from the state dairy , increasingly compete for space with
kiosks offering pizza slices and Chinese take-away.
These changes reveal that foreign food products now compete directly
with local products, thereby complicating the status of the West as the Other
in Russians increasingly globalized consumption practices. In state -owned
shops, privately-owned stores, small sidewalk kiosks, and foreign supermar-
kets alike, Russian-manufactured staples such as flour, sugar, and salt, often
wrapped in monotone packaging with minimal descriptions of the contents,
share shelf-space with gaily wrapped foreign-made prepared foods and in-
stant meals.2 In the Eliseevskii Gastronom, an elegant pre -revolutionary food

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The Taste of Nationalism 2 97

shop that attracts tourists and local residents with its ornate wooden w all
carvings and glittering chandeliers, brightly colored advertisements assure
customers that by eating a particular brand of American breakfast cereal they
will be members of a global community of like -minded consumers.
Yet, even as many Muscovites have assimilated into their daily lives such
aspects of capitalist consumer practices as credit cards, fast food restaurants,
and American business English, other Muscovite consumers have expressed
misgivings over the incorporation of foreign elements so completely into local
culture. These concerns have been reflected in a recent surge of nationalist
sentiments oriented at cultivating and maintaining an idealized Russianness
that privileges ethnic, religious, cultural, and ideological homogeneity over
diversity (Caldwell forthcoming; Filipov 1 999 ; Lemon 1 995 ; Humphrey 1 999).
In practical terms, this phenomenon that Khazanov has termed exclusive
ethnic nationalism (Khazanov 1 997 :1 25 ) has been realized through purifi-
cation efforts to rid Russia of potentially polluting foreign elements, includ-
ing commodities, ideologies, and even people. One striking by -product of
these trends has been the growing appeal of a specialized niche of commodi-
ties that draw on Russian linguistic markers and historical-cultural allusions
in order to cater to the notion that Russians share a unique set of tastes and
values that is not satisfied by imports or other transnational products. The
grow th of this commercialized nationalism has found popularity among con-
sumers who carefully calculate the extent to which the foods and other items
that they buy reflect the specifically Russian values and attributes they es-
pouse. Through the shared consumer experience that emerges from the careful
manipulation of these products, these shoppers publicly situate themselves
within an imagined national community.
My aim in this article is to investigate the current popularity of nationalist
food practices in Russia as part of a reorientation of Russian consumer proc-
esses. This shift, however, is more than simply the creation or resurgence of
local food practices in the face of transnational influences (cf. Watson 1 997 ;
Wilk 1 999 ). Rather, I suggest that it highlights a Russian consumer culture
that refashions practices more typically associated with market capitalism to
preserve values that are more recognizably socialist notably ethics of sociality
and collective responsibility. In Moscow, consumers food choices reflect their
unease w ith the implications of the transition to democratic capitalism. In
particular, Muscovites food practices reproduce a commitment to a more
collective, singular sense of Russianness than that envisioned with capitalist
individualism and autonomy , and particularly the variety of capitalism typi-

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2 98 melis sa l. caldwell

cally associated with American culture. Through their food choices, Musco-
vites emphasize their connection to a cohesive sense of Russianness by trans-
forming Russias political and economic concerns into personally and col-
lectively meaningful experiences.
To explore these issues, I first examine how changes in Russias consumer
practices during the last ten y ears reflect other shifts in Russias relations to
the commercial West. From this discussion, I proceed to an exploration of
the specific aspects of a nationalist mode of food consumption. The material
on which this article is based derives from ethnographic fieldwork conducted
in Moscow between 1 995 and 2001 , as part of a larger project on changing
consumer practices in post-Soviet Russia.3 The ethnographic analysis in this
article combines data from interviews; surveys; personal observations in shops
and restaurants; and various textual documents such as product wrappers,
commercials, advertisements, magazines, and journals. The Muscovites whose
perspectives I include in this article are middle -class high school and univer-
sity students, faculty members, parents, and grandparents.

Socialized Food Consumption in Russia

Changing food practices in Moscow comprise one strand of the larger con-
sumer revolution (Davis 2 000) that has sw ept Russia, Eastern Europe, China,
and other socialist societies during the last ten y ears (Barker 1 999a; Berdahl
1 999 b; Gillette 2 000; Jing 2000; Verdery 1 996 ; Watson 1 997 ). According to
one interpretation, these changes are important because they signal a shift
aw ay from the chronic shortages and state -dictated supply conditions that
formerly characterized socialist states and curtailed the extent to which citi-
zens were active participants in consumption activities. Caroline Humphrey
has argued ( 1 995 ) that Soviet citizens were not active consumers because
they did not participate in the consumption process. Tw o financial consult-
ants argued that as of 1 992 , markets and consumers do not as y et exist in any
real sense in Russia (Clarke & Koptev 1 992 :2 3 ).4
An alternative perspec tive, however, holds that socialist soc ieties w ere
indisputably consumer societies because citizens were compelled to find creative
way s to negotiate the existing system (Barker 1 999 b; Berdahl 1 999 b; Condee
& Padunov 1 995 ). One element common to Soviet-sty le societies was that
the state established itself as the provider for citizens needs by ow ning and
operating all aspects of production and distribution (Verdery 1 996). In con-
trast to market capitalism models that are geared to consumers demands
(Smith 1 981 ), state socialist plans dictated consumers needs by determining

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The Taste of Nationalism 2 99

which goods would be produced and in w hat quantity. One consequence

was that this process constrained the degree of product variation, thus en-
suring that the goods available in Moscow were identical to those available
throughout the Soviet Union.5 The homogenous nature of the consumer
experience also limited shoppers abilities to distinguish themselves through
material resources.6 Only elites and foreigners had easy access to unusual or
imported commodities, and this was primarily through travel abroad or through
privileges at special stores that were closed to the rest of the population. These
circumstances did not mean that ordinary citizens w ere denied the ability to
express agency and individuality in their consumer choices, however. Rus-
sians who wanted to set themselves apart from their neighbors resorted to
channels and strategies that existed outside the officially legal realm. Exchange
transactions through extensive informal networks thus became another im-
portant means of access for both everyday necessities and periodic luxuries,
while black market traders who sold goods that had been smuggled across
the borders or traded from foreigners offered another avenue for creative con-
sumption.7
The transactional nature of Russians consumer practices was inherently
social and acutely shaped peoples daily routines and practices. The unpre -
dictability of market supplies and episodic scarcities prompted shoppers to
buy up goods when they were available and store them for the future. Cus-
tomers also participated in collective consumer activities such as sharing, shop-
ping for relatives and friends, approaching store departments with a divide
and conquer method when shopping with friends, and holding places in queues
for other shoppers. Informal transactions depended on the integrity of ex-
change partners who could offer personal guarantees for the quality or reli-
ability of the goods, services, and information that was transmitted through
the networks. Thus social relations became powerful forms of currency in
the socialist economy , both as means to procure and exchange goods, and as
means to evaluate the w orth of the goods and the information that flowed
through the transactions.8 This emphasis on social networks as a necessary
component to everyday life has continued into the present period (Caldw ell
1 999 ; Pesmen 2 000).
For many Russians, the acquisition and display of foreign commodities
provided opportunities to articulate personal opinions about the state and
their experiences with state socialism. On the one hand, consumer practices
that existed outside the official economy emphasized the inability of the state
to meet the needs and interests of its citizens. On the other hand, the careful

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3 00 melis sa l. caldwell

creation and maintenance of scarcities revealed the states control over the
most intimate aspects of everyday life. For those citizens whose personal views
did not match those of the state, the consumption of foreign goods such as
American-made blue jeans provided a channel for articulating dissent (Hum-
phrey 1 995 ). For others, the conspicuous exhibition of foreign products repre-
sented the successful navigation of informal networks. The carefully arranged
display s of foreign shampoos, toothpaste, or detergents that graced peoples
bathroom shelves, a feature also observed by Berdahl in Eastern Germany
(1 999 b), testified to ones worth and status in manipulating exchange activities.
It is within this context of socialist consumption that food practices have
provided a particularly critical vantage point for exploring intersections be-
tween state -level efforts to cultivate an appropriate and productive citizen
and the concomitant efforts of those citizens to carve out unique and inde-
pendent identities for themselves.9 Part of the Soviet project to promote and
enforce communism included the transfer of food preparation and eating into
the public realm. Public dining in communal kitchens, workplace canteens,
and state -owned cafeterias and food shops w as envisioned as an opportunity
to instill in Soviet citizens socialist values of social and economic emancipa-
tion, egalitarianism, and collective responsibility (Borrero 1 997 ; Goldstein
1 996 ; Rothstein & Rothstein 1 997 ). Despite the states intentions, however,
public dining never replaced completely the family kitchen (Glants & Toomre
1 997 :xixxvii; Goldstein 1 996), and ironically the kitchen became valued as
a safe space w here close friends could interact aw ay from the prying eyes of
the state (Ries 1 997 ).
Thus both practically and ideologically , food practices have occupied a
special position within Russians experiences with state socialism, both in
their relations w ith the state as w ell as their relations with each other. For
instance, despite the access of most citizens to an extensive set of social net-
works, the ability to procure scarce foreign commodities remained the privi-
lege of a small minority , thereby reminding Russians that social differences
did in fact exist within an official ideology of equality. Marina Fy edorovna, a
university professor, recalled an occasion during the 1 97 0s when she was in-
vited to visit a private dining room that w as available only to a small group of
elite officials. There she encountered bananas for the first time in her life, and
immediately fell in love with their taste. Afterwards, a friend remarked that
it was unfortunate that she liked bananas because They are unpatriotic, mean-
ing, as Marina Fy edorovna explained, that they were unavailable to the gen-
eral Soviet public.

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The Taste of Nationalism 3 01

Food practices also became entangled with Soviet foreign affairs. As Crowley
has noted, consumption, in the context of the Cold War, became a sy mbolic
field of conflict on which allies and enemies could be plotted (2000:28 ). Among
the goods that were the most symbolically dangerous to the image of the
Soviet state were Western goods (Barker 1 999b) most notably American
commodities, which were alternatively associated with cultural impoverish-
ment and imperialism (Crowley 2 000; Kelly 1 998 ). Commercial negotiations
over food-related transactions between the Soviet Union and its ideological
rivals during this period were frequently infused with politically charged
propaganda. The efforts by McDonalds Canada (and not McDonalds u.s.a.)
to provide the food services for the 1 980 Oly mpic Games in Moscow were
reportedly turned down by Soviet officials w ho were loathe to reveal to their
rivals the inefficiencies of the domestic food service system (Hume 1 990:1 6 ).10
[McDonalds Canada subsequently opened its first Russian restaurant in Jan-
uary 1 990.] In the late 1 980s, an American food corporation became ensnared
in Russian popular opinion against u.s . President George Bushs policies to-
ward Russia when Russians renamed the company s frozen chicken legs Bush
legs and alleged that the products were tainted. Meanwhile, the Snickers
candy bar became associated with a distinctly American sty le of Fordist in-
dustry and business, and the w ord Snikerizatsiia (Snickerization) emerged in
local discourse as a disparaging comment on the American-influenced re-
forms that were occurring in Russias commercial spheres.11
The increasing openness that accompanied President Mikhail Gorbachevs
policies of glasnost and perestroika during the late 1 980s, and later continued
with the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1 991 , paved the way for changes
in Russian consumer culture, most notably the states acceptance of foreign
food and other commodities. As a result of reforms that eased restrictions to
the outside world, foreign companies rapidly entered the Russian market and
either joined forces with local industries in joint-venture projects, or estab-
lished themselves as competitors, thus generating myriad alternatives to lo-
cal goods, service sty les, and production practices. Today the institutional
homogeneity and scarcity that marked Soviet consumption has given way to
product variety, and store shelves sport multiple brands, sizes, and sty les of
every product conceivable. One source reported that in the post-1 991 pe -
riod, Russian consumers preferred imported food products to domestic goods
by a two-to-one ratio (McChesney 1 999).

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3 02 melis sa l. caldwell

The Appeal of the Foreign

On one level, the popularity of previously unknow n foods in Moscow
corresponds to the inquisitive interest that surrounded their initial appear-
ance in Russias commercial market. In Moscow, many respondents reported
that they had been curious to see for themselves what foreign life looked
and tasted like. Several people cited McDonalds as a novel experience in
food taste, culinary sty le, and public dining. When two North American col-
leagues and I treated a Muscovite friend to dinner at a Thai restaurant in
Moscow , the young women reported that she was expected to describe the
meal in great detail to her work associates the next day. Other Muscovites
mentioned being curious about foreign candies; one informant remarked that
the combination of milk chocolate and nuts in American-sty le candy bars
was intriguing because it differed from Russian chocolate bars that were ap-
preciated for their subtle taste variations. Soft drinks such as Pepsi-Cola, and
later Coca-Cola, also contrasted w ith domestic carbonated beverages that
sported herbal flavors (see also Caldwell 1 998 ). The term exotic (ekzoticheskii )
frequently emerged in discussions with Muscovites about why they had tried
or continued to use foreign foods. Yet for many consumers foreign commodities
also represented features of quality and taste that w ere not simply different
from Russian commodities, but were in fact seen as lacking in local products.
One university student explained his preference for foreign foods w ith the
statement, Russian markets lack domestic food goods that are the equiva-
lent [of foreign products] in terms of taste and quality. In similar terms, his
classmate noted that he preferred foreign foods because of their tasty quality.
Marketers often woo Russian customers by appealing to these convictions
that foreign foods, particularly those from Western Europe or North America,
embody higher standards of quality than their domestic counterparts. In turn,
Russian producers strategically capitalize on the popularity of foreign goods
in the way s they market their products and the technology they use. Local
enterprises import foreign machinery as a means to replicate the quality of
products made in the West. For instance, in the early 1 990s, following the
success enjoyed by McDonalds, a fast food restaurant named St. Petersburgers
opened and advertised that it had imported cooking equipment from the West.
Many Russian companies have also adopted customer service philosophies
more usually associated w ith North American business practices. Previously ,
with the Soviet emphasis on production over consumption (see Verdery 1 996),
employ ment was guaranteed and workers had little incentive to assist buy-
ers. Consequently , prompt and polite service was a rarity. Although such prac-

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The Taste of Nationalism 3 03

tices continue today , notably in state -owned businesses or bureaucratic of-

fices, the overall consumption experience in the commercial sphere has been
transformed. McDonalds ideology of serving customers efficiently and with
courtesy , for example, has spread throughout the service industry in Russia.
Customers who walk into restaurants and shops throughout Moscow and
St. Petersburg are welcomed by smiling employ ees who offer assistance and
hover helpfully nearby. Perhaps even more revealing is that it is becoming
more common for managers to apologize to customers w ho have been kept
waiting or whose food has not been prepared properly.
Finally, some local producers have resorted to imitating foreign products
directly, either by making claims as to the goods authenticity as non-Rus-
sian, or by asserting that they are widely popular in their alleged countries of
origin.12 In most cases a claim of Americanness seems to provide a critical
selling point, such as w ith Baskin Robbins ice cream that is advertised as The
most favorite ice cream in America. Often the labeling attached to domestic
products closely resembles their foreign prototypes, such as boxes of cold
cereal (a recent introduction to Russian breakfasts that are more generally
identified by hot cereals) that bear an uncanny resemblance to their Ameri-
can competitors, complete with large striped felines and red poultry. A breath
mint that supposedly neutralizes the alcohol in ones blood is purported to
be the drug of choice for American motorists who drink and drive. In a more
unusual pitch, I overheard a vendor at a souvenir market try to sell a carved
chicken toy with the claim that it w as very American, and that chicken w as
a popular comestible in the United States precisely because of its great sy m-
bolic value there.
Verifiable authenticity is not at stake in these connections; instead it is the
allusions that these products make to a specific field of nationally oriented
values, qualities, and tastes that factor into consumers expectations. For in-
stance, one Russian-made potato chip flavor was advertised as American
rather than barbecue, while a package of apple- and bacon-flavored instant
mashed potatoes was marketed as German. In addition, counterfeit prod-
ucts that play on recognized Western brands for instance, Finta orange
soda, Redbok sporting gear, and the Oil of Olay z and Oil of Ulay cos-
metic brands have flooded the Russian market. Despite the problems in
international copyright law that these forgery products have caused, they
have had a direct impact on local technology standards and capabilities, so
that many domestic foods and other products are as good as their foreign
competitors.

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3 04 melis sa l. caldwell

On another level, the lifesty les that are embodied in foreign foods corre-
late more closely to the new needs and interests of workers in today s Russia.
The Soviet-era commodity shortages disciplined consumers to seek out cre-
ative way s to maximize the time and effort they could use for shopping and
standing in line.13 Many citizens used their time on the job to do their shop-
ping, thereby fostering more flexible distinctions between work time and
personal time. The introduction of North American corporate practices, es-
pecially a strict accounting of work time and sharp delineation between company
time and personal time, has severely curtailed these possibilities for com-
bining shopping and other personal responsibilities with work. American man-
agers have complained that one of their most difficult challenges in restruc-
turing Russian businesses has been to keep employees in the office from 9
a.m. until 5 or 6 p.m., or later, with only a short break for a mid-day meal.
The introduction of packaged, prepared foods such as soup in a cup, fro-
zen dinners, fresh salads, jars of baby food, and boxed juices and milk have
appealed to Muscovites who are juggling family and work responsibilities
with limited free time. By way of illustration, before Valentina, a sixty -y ear-
old pensioner, could leave Moscow for a week-long visit to her friends sum-
mer cottage, she spent an entire day shopping and cooking for her thirty -
y ear-old son who remained at home. Television commercials and magazine
advertisements strategically market the benefits of easy -to-prepare foods to
harried parents and workers. One young woman, who was expecting her first
child, admitted that she favored pre-made Western foods because they helped
her save time for other chores. Tw o middle -aged women supported the im-
portance of time -saving techniques when praising the jars of baby food that
have hit Russian store shelves in recent years. Both women were doctors and
recalled that 20 y ears ago, when their children were small, they had to de-
vote long hours to making meals for their husbands and then making food
that their children could eat. They confessed that they envied their daugh-
ters-in-law who used convenience items such as commercial baby foods and
disposable diapers. Children, meanw hile, can feed themselves with instant
soups, thereby reducing the responsibilities of mothers and grandmothers to
prepare extra meals in advance. One university student summed up the gen-
eral sentiments of her classmates when she remarked that foreign foods were
faster to prepare, cheaper, and easier to procure.
The diversification of the foreign food market in Russia is further linked
with increasing socioeconomic diversity. As Roseberry (1 996 ) has similarly
described for the growth of a differentiated coffee market in the United States,

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The Taste of Nationalism 3 05

and Terrio ( 1 996 ) for the place of artisanal chocolates within a gentrification
movement in France, Russian consumers can make claims to social identities
by aligning themselves with the values and ideals associated with specific
food choices. In Moscow, children and y oung adults admit that they pur-
chase American and European foods and other commodities in order to ac-
quaint themselves with life outside Russia or to identify themselves as mod-
ern. In response to my question about w hy he preferred foreign foods, one
y oung Muscovite casually replied, I am cosmopolitan.
This packaging of food with a lifesty le of global sophistication is present
in the marketing tactics of restaurants and companies. Restaurants cater to
Moscow s new financial elite by offering business lunches, often complete
with French champagne and American liquors. Food corporations sponsor
contests in which the prizes all possible through the consumption of the
appropriate beverages or snack foods link tastes with opportunities to travel
abroad or to win tickets to concerts given by foreign musical groups. Ex-
treme examples of this preference for the foreign are evident in the conspicu-
ous consumption practices attributed to New Russians, Russias class of nou-
veaux riches. It is more than simply expensive tastes that characterize New
Russians, how ever; popular opinion generally links the economic elite with
foreign commodities such as American and German supermarkets that sell
imported bread, meat, cheese, and beer; as well as with foreign luxury automo-
biles and electronics.
Nevertheless, even as many Muscovites identify lifestyle, convenience, price,
and novelty as motivations for buy ing foreign foods, other Muscovites have
returned to buying both Russian foods and Russian imitations of foreign products
even when these products are more expensive or harder to find.14 Transnational
corporations have recognized the economic implications of consumers pref-
erences for the local and have given their products distinctively Russian attri-
butes: for instance, a series of Coca-Cola commercials in 1 997 1 998 featured
characters from Russian folklore, while McDonalds has widely publicized
that its meat and produce are domestically produced. In the next section I
explore the grow th of this locally oriented niche of consumer products, and
consider its importance within a larger nationalist movement in Moscow.

Buying Russian: The Power of the Local

The popularity of foreign foods and their domestic imitators has been matched
by the emergence of a more explicitly nationalistic orientation to consump-
tion in Moscow. In 1 995 , Russkoe Bistro, an inexpensive Russian fast food

ethnos , vol. 67 :3 , 2 002 (pp. 2 95 3 1 9)

3 06 melis sa l. caldwell

This billboard on the side of a bus stop shelter reads: We support Russian production!
Buy domestic! Help Russia! Photo: Melissa L. Caldwell.

chain that sells Russian foods such as pelmeni (dumplings), pirozhki and other
filled pastries, and vodka, opened its first restaurant directly across from the
site of the first McDonalds in Moscow. Since then, a number of restaurants

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The Taste of Nationalism 3 07

and cafs that offer Russian food at both the low and high ends of the price
scale have opened in Moscow, as well as in other cities in Russia. It is worth
noting that even here, at the level of the local, imitation continues to shape
the market. Knock-off restaurants such as Slavianskoe Bistro offer menus and
peasant-themed logos very similar to those of Russkoe Bistro; more telling is
that the napkins and sugar packets in Slavianskoe Bistro are identical to those
of its archetype including the logo and words Russkoe Bistro.
Despite the wide availability of restaurants that serve foreign foods, Rus-
sian cuisine is a popular choice among Muscovites. In a survey that I con-
ducted among high school and university students, most respondents reported
that although they had tried foreign foods and, in some cases, liked items
such as pizza and hamburgers, they preferred Russian foods even when
Russian foods were pizza or hamburgers that their mothers had prepared at
home. One y oung w oman explained that Russian food contained Russian
soul (dusha).15 Her classmate stated more simply, People from Russia like
Russian tastes.
In an effort to tap into these taste preferences, as w ell as to acknowledge
the improving quality of domestic food and other goods and to respond to
fears that foreign products are controlling the local market, Russian officials
have launched a Buy Russian campaign for food and other goods. In the
context of a country with growing nationalist sentiments and political move-
ments, Muscovites who buy Russian fuse brand loy alty with national loy-
alty. One particularly compelling aspect of this claim to nationalistic con-
sumption has been the deploy ment of images and values drawn from Rus-
sias past. Muscovites variously characterize authentic Russian foods as those
made by traditional preparations, from traditionsmentioned in conver-
sations about Russian cooking, and according to traditional criteria as I
have been accustomed to think since childhood. Several y oung women men-
tioned historical factors. Others remarked that Russian foods had Russian
roots, while one person added that Russian traditions were supplemented
by Russias unique climatic basis.
Anthropologists and others who work in postsocialist spaces have observed
that the socialistpostsocialist transition has been characterized by a com-
mercialized appropriation of the past and the traditional.16 The comestible
past is a powerful lure for Moscow shoppers who are interested in preserving
and perpetuating an idealized Russian nation. Not only does a commercial-
ized historicity situate consumers within an uncontested version of Russian-
ness, but it also facilitates a mechanics of shared memory and hidden histo-

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3 08 melis sa l. caldwell

ries (Watson 1 994:7 ) that unifies customers in a singularizing national expe-

rience. Russian companies have implemented aggressive marketing tactics
that appeal to consumers sense of national pride by emphasizing the histori-
cal components of their food products. One brewery claims that its beer is
created according to traditional Russian recipes: Our enterprise ... employ s
the best traditions of Russian brewing. A fly er for a brand of Russian cookies
assures customers that: We make all products according to old Russian re-
cipes, without modern additives.
Allusions to the past are made explicit in such items as Nostalgia brand
vodka beverages, which depict historic monuments on its cans; Peter the Great
cigarettes; Stepan Razin (leader of a 1 7 th-century peasant rebellion) beer;
and Istok (The Source) vodka advertisements that feature pictures of famous
Soviet personages with the promise When I return (Kogda Ya Vernus ). Idyl-
lic peasant themes and bucolic country side motifs are another popular mar-
keting ploy. For instance, cartons of House in the Village (Domik v derevne)
brand of milk products feature a grandmotherly w oman standing in front of
cow s in a field. Popular cooking magazines such as Kulinar and Gurman in-
clude special sections devoted to foods from the Russian home, Russian holi-
day s and traditions, and even to Soviet recipes. Moreover, the names of sev-
eral of Russias oldest (i.e., predating the post-Soviet and in some cases Soviet
period) and finest confectionary companies explicitly invoke revolutionary
themes from Russian history: the Red October, Red Front, and Bolshevik
candy companies.
Svetlana Boym ( 1 999) and Theresa Sabonis-Chafee ( 1 999 ) have argued
that these strategic uses of the past reflect a nostalgic movement currently in
vogue in Russia. These forms of nostalgia can be both sentimental, as in the
case of kitsch, and ironic, as in the use of camp (Sabonis-Chafee 1 999:3 7 3 ),
but together produce a mythologized national past and identity.17 One fad in
Moscow is the spread of nostalgia restaurants that recreate the experience of
dining in particular historical periods. Customers can choose from among
nineteenth-century inns (traktir) and hunting lodges, or restaurants from the
more recent past such as a Soviet-era canteen, complete with decorations
from that period. A restaurant in a hotel associated with an old monastery
offers ancient recipes that have been adapted to contemporary products. In
some cases, however, commemorative dining is available only to the afflu-
ent, such as patrons of a more European-themed restaurant named Nostalgie
that claims to offer a more democratic menu at noticeably undemocratic
prices: according to one advertisement, dinner prices start at US$5 0. Repre -

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The Taste of Nationalism 3 09

sentations that evoke images and ideals from the Russian and Soviet past
celebrate the good times of earlier moments as desirable values and features
that continue to shape and respond to the unique circumstances of postso-
cialist daily life. More significantly, these ideals also appeal to a nationalist
pride that reinforces the specificity of a Russian experience at odds with the
encroaching outside world.

Nash: Consuming the Nation

The most striking aspect of this nationalizing culinary movement, how -
ever, has been the deploy ment of classifiers such as our own (svoi) and for-
eign (chuzhoi), and more routinely, ours (nash) and not ours (ne nash). The
concepts of nash and ne nash, or ours and not ours, respectively, are important
concepts of social inclusion and exclusion in everyday Russian life (Caldw ell
1 999 ; Humphrey 1 995 ; Pesmen 2 000; Stepanov 1 997 :47 2 ; cf. Okely 1 996 ).
For Muscovites, the nash system is both a segmentary system of inclusionary
and exclusionary identity and a marker of sentimental solidarity and imag-
ined uniformity. Ty pically , people distinguish between friends and strangers,
or between co-nationals and foreigners, by classify ing them as either belong-
ing to or outside of a group known as nash. For instance, on one occasion in
Moscow , a friend and I observed a young man dressed in biking clothes and
carry ing a mountain bike come out of the metro. My friend turned to me and
commented, Hes not dressed like one of ours (On odet ne po-nashemu).
Additionally, in a society in which informal social relations have long been
instrumental for everyday survival (Ledeneva 1 998 ; Pesmen 2000), Musco-
vites explain that it is to nash individuals that one offers assistance or emo-
tional sympathy because they are the persons w ith whom one feels a sense of
fellowship and collective responsibility. The flexible ideology of nash is sim-
ultaneously expansive and constrictive, however, and the communities that
are constituted through perceptions of solidarity and similarity do not al-
way s align neatly with ethnic, racial, religious, or even nationalist identities.
For instance, I have noted elsewhere that Russian recipients in a transnational
soup kitchen community in Moscow bestow nash status on particular Afri-
can and North American volunteers, even as they keep other Russians at a
ne nash distance (Caldwell 1 999 ). Yet, for the purpose of the larger nation-
alist movement that is currently gaining power in Russia, the strategic use of
nash classifiers imbues everyday practices with a heightened sense of mem-
bership in a finite and unique population. The importance of collective re-
sponsibility to this community has emerged clearly in the efforts of the Rus-

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310 melis sa l. caldwell

sian government to make citizens pay their taxes.18 In 1 999 , the federal tax
authorities sponsored throughout Moscow large billboards that read No one
helps Russia like we ourselves (Nikto ne pomozhet Rossii krome nas samikh).
Within the last five y ears, domestic food producers have increasingly ap-
pealed to consumers sense of belonging to this imagined Russian collecti-
vity by embracing the nash and ne nash distinction in their marketing stra-
tegies, a practice that is comparable to what has been observed in East Ger-
many (Berdahl 1 999 a; Merkel 1 994 ). One strategy has been to advertise that
foods have been locally grown and produced. Some companies promote their
products with labels or stickers that specifically designate that their foods
are nash, or Russian. Jaffe juice is representative of many domestic prod-
ucts in that the labeling on its wrappers includes the phrase Made in Russia
(Sdelano v Rossii) and the products official Russian certification number. Store
clerks creatively arrange food displays that highlight domestic products and
identify them with captions such as Nash or Russian. Often these display s
occupy a special, conspicuous place on shelves, while foreign goods are jum-
bled together and relegated to less visible spaces. More subtle, regional dis-
tinctions are further designated with labels that identify the city or area in
which a particular item was produced. One cheese display contained four dif-
ferent types of Russian cheese, one from Moscow, one from Novgorod, one
from Kostroma, and one from Yaroslavl. Each was identified by its city of ori-
gin, and the clerk explained that the prices assigned to each product reflected
the different reputations and market values associated w ith each location. In
a more aggressive ploy to reassure customers about the roots of its products,
one company has even licensed the brand name Nash to use on its products.
For their part, Russian customers invoke the Nash/ Ne nash distinction
when buy ing food. As part of a tradition of collective shopping practices,
customers routinely confer with vendors and sometimes other shoppers,
friends, and acquaintances to discuss the merits of a particular product.
More importantly , however, they ask whether or not products are Nash or
Ne nash. Muscovites explain that nash products are superior to foreign goods
in terms of taste, quality, and healthfulness. Elena Viktorovna, an English pro-
fessor in Moscow, reports that the first question she poses to food vendors at
the market is w hether the products are nash or ne nash. Elena Viktorovona
claims that she buys only nash foods because she knows that they have been
packaged very shortly before and have not been lying in shipping containers
and on store shelves for months or even y ears as American and other im-
ported goods are often rumored to be. If a vendor say s that a good is ne nash,

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The Taste of Nationalism 31 1

This billboard promoting the Otechestvo Political Party reads: By buying domestic products, you help
yourself. Photo: Melissa L. Caldwell.

Elena Viktorovna remarked, I just say thank y ou and walk on. Meanw hile,
sellers encourage undecided customers simply by announcing that a particu-
lar food is nash. On a rare occasion when a salesclerk advised me to buy a
foreign product, she apologetically noted that the item was ne nash but of
a better quality than its domestic counterpart.
Some shoppers extend this Nash/ Ne nash dichotomy by evaluating foods
according to the national origins of the vendors themselves. A perspective
that I encountered frequently in Moscow was that foreigners, particularly
dark-skinned people from Central Asia and Africa, were responsible for Rus-
sias economic problems and acts of violence. Outsiders were therefore seen
as suspicious and untrustworthy. When guiding me on how to shop for food
in the market, friends advised me to avoid the stalls run by merchants from
Central Asia and instead recommended that I find Russian vendors. For poten-
tially dangerous (i.e., poisonous) items such as berries or mushrooms hand-
picked from the forests, several friends further advised me that elderly Rus-
sian women were the most reliable sellers.
More importantly, shoppers maintain that nash foods are healthier than
imported products. Many Muscovites share the opinion that foreign prod-
ucts are artificial and contain harmful preservatives and additives, a percep-

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312 melis sa l. caldwell

tion that Nelson Hancock encountered when his informants in Siberia dis-
cussed American hot dogs and chicken products (Hancock 1 998 ). In con-
trast, domestically grown foods, and those procured from personal agricul-
ture or windowsill gardens, are valued for their perceived purity and natural-
ness. One Muscovite expressed an opinion that I heard frequently when she
argued that Russian-grown produce was healthier than imported products
because it contained nutrients directly from the Russian soil. Oksana, a mid-
dle -aged mother and avid gardener, commented that local produce was clean
(chistii ), and therefore did not need to be washed after it was picked. She
continued that it w as beneficial for children to have access to fresh produce
that they could eat directly from the ground. This made them stronger, Oksana
concluded. McDonalds and other restaurants in Moscow have responded
to this local bias toward home -grown foods: wait staff describe to customers
which ingredients have been grown nearby and in some cases the process by
which the foods have been harvested and processed. McDonalds advertises
widely that it buy s much of its produce from a Russian firm named Belaya
Dacha, or White Dacha [summer cottage], a specific reference to the im-
portance of cottages and summer gardens in Russian daily life.
Ironically , this preference for Nash foods periodically leads to shortages,
a phenomenon reminiscent of Soviet times and decidedly at odds with a capi-
talist-oriented marketplace. Oksana commented that it was more expensive
for Russian factories to operate today because they w ere required to pay for
water and electricity, unlike during Soviet times when the government pro-
vided those services. Thus, she continued, Russian factories can not produce
as much as Western ones, and customers may not be able to buy nash foods
when they want them and so must w ait. Oksana further reported that Mus-
covites w ere again standing in long queues to buy Russian-made foods. She
noted that at her local market, those stalls that offered Russian products of-
ten had longer lines than those that sold foreign goods.
This privileging of domestic foods has emerged in Russian politics as well.
In summer 1 999, two different political parties appealed to voters by capital-
izing on food themes. One party called itself the Yabloko, or Apple, Party,
and espoused liberal economic and political reforms.19 Meanwhile, the Fa-
therland (Otechestvo; this term has two additional, related meanings of do-
mestic and home industry) political party appealed to voters with billboards
that display ed such pictures as a woman feeding her chickens, people eating,
and employ ees working in a meat-packing plant. Each image included a re-
commendation to voters to buy domestic or to support the domestic in-

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The Taste of Nationalism 31 3

dustry.20 By manipulating visual and rhetorical associations among food, pa-

triotism, and national history, the candidates poignantly asked voters to link
their personal food experiences with political issues that affected all Russians.
In summer 2001 , a poster on the side of a bus stop shelter supported the larger
movement to support the domestic economy with the caption: Lets sup-
port Russian manufacturing! Buy domestic [otechestvennoe]! Help Russia! In
turn, Muscovites often use food references to display their support of or dis-
pleasure with national events. Through references to food, people comment
on shifts in government policies and the differences among leaders: com-
parisons of the prices of foods such as bread, sausage, and cheese at various
moments in Russias political history index public opinion and satisfaction.

Nationalism and the Responsible Citizen in Todays Moscow

Food consumption offers a powerful venue for Muscovites to navigate the
political, economic, and social changes that have occurred in Russia during
the 1 990s. Through selective food choices, shoppers react concretely and
decisively to the revolutions that have swept both local markets and the national
financial market. Moreover, they are actively invested in Russias affairs be -
cause their choices influence the economic sy stem at the same time that they
transform the anony mity and impersonal feature of national affairs into per-
sonally meaningful events. By linking their individual food experiences with
broader political and economic concerns, Muscovites articulate prac tical
ideologies of national loy alty that affirm their membership and participation
in a more singular, homogeneous Russian experience. In the face of growing
income disparities and class stratification, each conscientious consumer of
nash foods remains a committed member of the nash collectivity of Russians.
This connection of the personal w ith an imagined collective nation of
likeminded consumers is particularly significant for older Muscovites who
are concerned that the combination of foreign convenience foods, restau-
rant meals, and the images of American social life portray ed on television
will entice Russian children to become more A merican and lose touch with
their Russian identity and heritage. Many people asked me if it was true that
American women did not know how to cook, a perception that has been re-
inforced not only by the prevalence of American convenience foods in Rus-
sian stores, but also by American television programs and movies that depict
take-away boxes as staples of American cuisine. Several mothers expressed
their fears that their daughters would lose their ability to cook and their ap-
preciation for Russian dishes as well as their potential to be good wives

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314 melis sa l. caldwell

and mothers. Tatyana, a retiree w hose adult son continues to live at home,
remarked that children w ho aspired to become too A merican in their tastes
and desires would find themselves unsatisfied in Russia and worse still, perhaps
even unemploy ed.
Taty anas comment highlighted a source of tension for many Muscovites
that foreign foods and practices will eventually fragment the collective identity,
the narod (folk), of Russians. This concern has become more evident in the
last several y ears. During my research in 1 995 , although Muscovite acquain-
tances made pointed remarks about the extraordinary lifesty les and financial
resources of New Russians, they maintained that these individuals were
nonetheless indisputably Russian. As one woman explained: They are still
Russians. By the late 1 990s, this impression had shifted significantly , and New
Russians were more closely associated with a group of outsiders who had
turned their backs on their fellow Russians. In popular discourse they were
associated with recent corruption scandals and blamed for funneling resources
aw ay from the collective of the nation; this included suggestions that New
Russians w ere among those most likely to evade paying their taxes. On sev-
eral occasions, friends and acquaintances told me that New Russians were
selfish and had distanced themselves from their social responsibilities to the
Russian nation.
These evaluations of appropriate Russian behavior reveal Musc ovites
discomfort with the new consumer practices that have arisen with Russias
shift to a capitalist-sty le economy. Individuals w ho participate in the non-
Russian economy by buying foreign goods and acquiring foreign values and
behaviors are perceived as having lost something intrinsically Russian name-
ly, the ability to be both social and socially responsible. Parents lament that
students who rely on instant snack foods forsake the time and conversations
that w ould otherwise be spent over a meal shared with friends and relatives.
Shoppers who purchase imported berries and mushrooms in gourmet super-
markets may purchase convenience and a sense of anony mity, but they also
bypass the social networks and personal stories that are invested in jars of
home -made preserves and pickles made by ones friends and relatives. Fi-
nally , consumers who direct their interests and funds tow ard foreign com-
modities and the economic sy stems in which they are enmeshed divert those
resources aw ay from their own nash communities.
Thus, the impersonal and disinterested nature of capitalist economic sy s-
tems characterized by immediate transactions and regulated by anony mous
market forces (Sahlins 1 97 2 ; Smith 1 981 ) is at odds with a socialized sy stem

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The Taste of Nationalism 31 5

of consumption that works precisely because of the personal connections

and sentiments that flow through it. Muscovites can trust Russian foods be -
cause they are familiar and reassuring. More importantly , Russian foods sy m-
bolically link Muscovite consumers with other Russians. By contrast, foreign
goods are dangerous, both to the overarching politico-economic sy stem, as
well as to consumers social and biological health. For Muscovites who are
concerned about the disintegration of social cohesion, mutual support, and
collective responsibility , the creation of a nationalist cuisine represents an
opportunity to reclaim a set of standards and practices that defines them as
Russians and marks their unique cultural experiences. Moreover, by exercis-
ing the ability to choose freely, consumers w ho select nash foods demon-
strate that there is room w ithin capitalist individualism to express unify ing
and meaningful relationships with each other.

Acknowledgments
An earlier version of this article was presented in the panel Consumers Exiting
Socialism: Ethnographic Perspectives on the Reconfiguration of Post-Soviet Social
Life at the American Anthropological Association Meetings in San Francisco,
1 8 November 2000. I am grateful to our discussant, Nancy Ries, the other mem-
bers of the panel, and members of the audience for their questions and comments.
I would also like to thank Eriberto P. Lozada, James L. Watson, and the three ano-
nymous reviewers for Ethnos for their suggestions. I owe a special debt of gratitude
to Jennifer Patico, who has carefully and cheerfully read multiple drafts and of-
fered many helpful recommendations. Finally, I would like to thank D. Kulick and
W. stberg for their generous support and suggestions for improving this article.

Notes
1 . In survey s and interviews that I conducted in Moscow (1 997 2 001 ), informants
acknowledged that much of the fresh produce available in stores and markets
was imported from outside Russia (generally from Central Asia, northern Africa,
and Asia). Muscovites did not identify the exact geographical origins of such
products, however, but described them simply as being exotic (ekzoticheskie).
All translations in this article are mine.
2. For an analogous description of Russian book covers, see Condee and Padunov
1 995 :1 5 8.
3 . This fieldwork was conducted over the following periods: JuneJuly 1 995 ; No-
vember 1 997 October 1 998; MayJuly 1 999; JuneJuly 2 000; JuneJuly 2 001 . I
am grateful to the U.S. Department of Education, Mellon Foundation, and the
Abby and George ONeill Traveling Fund, Kathry n W. and Shelby Cullom Davis
Center for Russian Studies, and Department of Anthropology at Harvard Uni-
versity, for funding support.
4. For the analogous case of China, Maris Gillette has noted that consumers were
clients of the state because their consumption possibilities were structured by
the state (2000:91 ).

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316 melis sa l. caldwell

5 . Other observers have remarked on this ubiquitous homogeneity in Soviet life

(e.g., see Boy m 1 994, Humphrey 1 995 ), and it is the basis of the movie Ironiia
Sudby (The Irony of Fate), in which the main characters various troubles result
from the fact that he is mistakenly living in an apartment that is identical to his
apartment in every way, down to the address, except that it is in a different city.
In another example, during my fieldwork in 1 998, this consumer homogeneity
was evident in the widespread availability of a black, white, and red plaid flannel
shirt; throughout Moscow, I repeatedly encountered men and women alike wear-
ing identical shirts.
6. Daphne Berdahl reports (1 999b) that in East Germany, homogeneity was often
the consequence of shortage. It was the scarcity of a particular item that increased
its worth and desirability.
7 . See Ledeneva 1 998 for a detailed discussion of blat, an exchange relationship of
access, in the Soviet period; see Caldwell 1 999, Pesmen 2000, and Jennifer Paticos
article in this issue for discussions of exchange relations in postsocialist Russia.
See Yan 1 996, Yang 1 989, and Smart 1 993 for comparable discussions of exchange
relations in China.
8. These practices are more fully elaborated in Caldwell 1 999.
9. For additional information on Russias rich culinary history , see the collection of
articles in Glants and Toomre 1 997 .
1 0. See also McDonalds Canada President George Cohons account (1 997 ) of these
negotiations.
1 1 . This antagonism toward a different economic ideology was not unique to the
Soviet Union. When efforts by the Coca-Cola corporation after World War II to
build bottling plants in the Soviet Union were turned down, company officials
interpreted this failure as evidence that Soviet authorities feared the political
ideology associated with the soft drink enterprise. At their international con-
vention, Coke representatives hung up a placard that read When we think of
Communists, we think of the Iron Curtain But when they think of democracy,
they think of Coca-Cola (Pendergrast 1 993 :23 8).
1 2. See Jennifer Paticos discussion (2001 ) about the appeal of geographic origins
for consumer goods. Compare with Goldfrank 1 994 for a description of the stra-
tegic marketing of geographic origins for Chilean produce sales in the u.s.a.
1 3 . Katherine Verdery (1 996) has described such constraints as means by which the
socialist state confiscated and manipulated the personal time of its citizens.
1 4. Price is not always a reliable indicator for predicting Muscovites purchasing
practices. On the one hand, many consumers cite personal income limitations
as motivations for buying Russian foods. For instance, in Moscow a loaf of bread
from a Russian bakery averages 5 rubles, while a loaf of French bread from a
foreign bakery may cost 203 0 rubles; a liter of milk from a Russian dairy costs
1 1 rubles, while a liter of milk imported from a Finnish dairy costs 1 4 rubles; and
a tub of Russian-made ice cream may cost 20 rubles, while its American equivalent
exceeds 1 5 0 rubles. These issues became even more important after the August
1 998 financial crisis, when many people lost their jobs and savings, and the
value of the ruble fell. During that period, the prices of domestic goods remain-
ed low and more affordable than those of foreign and imported products, which
were affected by inflation and temporary shortages. On the other hand, domestic

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The Taste of Nationalism 31 7

production does not alway s guarantee lower prices. High-quality Russian vodkas
and chocolates are typically priced comparably to their foreign competitors.
Meanwhile, videotapes of Russian movies and compact disks of Russian musical
groups ty pically cost tw o to three times more than those of foreign artists a
fact that informants claim is justified because of the greater artistic quality and
merit of domestic productions.
15. See Pesmen 2000 for an extended discussion about Russian notions of dusha.
1 6. E.g., Berdahl 1 999a; see also Gediminas Lankauskass article in this issue.
17. Catriona Kelly has called this post-Soviet retro chic (1 998:22 9).
1 8. Cf. Boy ms claim (1 999:3 8 4): Appeals to collective responsibility have become
much less popular than they were during glasnost, and, more important, much
less marketable.
1 9. I would like to thank one anonymous reviewer for pointing out that the name of
the Yabloko party is also an acrony m formed from the first letters of the party s
founders: Grigorii Yavlinskii, Yurii Boldyrev, and Vladimir Lukin.
20. Theresa Sabonis-Chafee describes a similar tactic that was employed during the
1 996 presidential campaign in Russia. A series of pro-Yeltsin posters depicted
every day Russian life before and after: the before picture portray ed empty
shelves in a grocery store, while the after images presented a family laden with
bags of food products (Sabonis-Chafee 1 999:3 7 2).

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