Letter from Vermont

A Russian New Year’s party does not require vodka, at least if you are partying with Russian Baptists.  What it does require is a large spread of specialty dishes, mostly “salads” with exotic names like “shuba” and “olivet.”  It also requires a full screening of the highest-grossing Soviet film of all time, “The Irony of Fate”  (in Russian: Ironiya Sudby).  This movie, with even minimal coaching on the plot from any Russian speaking person, actually is both hilarious and poignant.  It is traditionally broadcast on television every New Year’s Eve in Russia and the former Soviet Republics.  A roomful of Russians watching this movie late on New Year’s Eve is a sure recipe for laugh-out-loud entertainment, either by watching the film itself or watching your Russian friends pointing at the screen, laughing uncontrollably, warning you not to miss their favorite lines (of which there are many), and otherwise directing the viewing in classic Soviet fashion.  I highly recommend wangling yourself an invitation to such a party next New Years.

This was a great good-bye to our December and kick-off to our January (it’s a pretty long movie).  January asserted itself with snow every time you looked out the window, accompanied by a truly frigid pair of nights that saw the mercury dip below -20F.  Even the Siberian I’m married to admits that is too cold for swimming.  Whole weeks have now gone by without seeing temperatures above freezing.

But that’s why we “loVermont” in winter, right?  Perfect conditions for cross-country skiing.  We had a great AMC ski group at the inn this past weekend.  The leader assembles two groups every year, one for his birthday weekend, and one later in February.  They usually ski Blueberry Hill the first day and Mountain Top the second day.  Their Saturday dinner at our inn involved a memorable dessert.  What makes it unforgettable?  Some other time, perhaps.