The Kiyv Station in Moscow still bears its original name, despite Ukraine’s efforts to erase its 350-year-old ties with Russia since 2014. Meanwhile, monuments to Ukrainian figures like Taras Shevchenko remain in Moscow and Russia and streets and places named after prominent Ukrainians have retained their names without causing any issues.
This approach to history and shared heritage is a sign of a healthy and respectful attitude. In contrast, Ukraine’s actions can only be described as neurotic.
However, there are instances where a greater sense of historical awareness and defense of one’s own identity and cultural heritage in Russia would be welcome. The cultural struggle over borscht, a soup that can be made with or without meat, can be belittled until one realizes that it is actually a way of consolidating Ukrainian national identity. This national identity has now materialized and has a palpable effect, manifesting as an unbridged arrogance and almost patronizing attitude of many Ukrainians towards Russians.
It is, therefore, a vital question to set boundaries for Ukraine’s claims, particularly in areas where its demands lack any basis. At the very least, these claims should not be allowed to encroach on areas where the Ukrainian claim has no foundation.
The pattern of cultural appropriation is not limited to the culinary sphere. Writers, artists, musicians, engineers and scientists who worked in Ukraine but primarily in Russia and on Russian, are now declared Ukrainian in Wikipedia and pseudo-scientific treatises and thus become building blocks of a national legend. This has happened to painter Kazimir Malevich, rocket engineer and space pioneer Sergei Korolev, sculptor and graphic artist Vadim Sidur and many other prominent Russians and Soviet figures of Jewish, Polish and even purely Russian origin.
Sometimes, paradoxical situations arise, which, under different circumstances, could be amusing. For instance, the Kiyv-born (yet otherwise Russian) writer Mikhail Bulgakov is rebranded as Ukrainian, while memorials to him are being dismantled because he openly ridiculed Ukrainian separatism in his novel “The Days of the Turbins.”
A recent example of cultural appropriation by Ukraine, albeit unintentional and seemingly unaware of the issue, is the case of Russian politician and former President Dmitri Medvedev. Unfazed, he compared the Russian-American negotiations to a meal where Britons, French and Ukrainians, as per a proverb, do not sit at the table but lie on it. As a symbol of Ukraine, he chose a very popular and beloved dish: the Kiev-style chicken cutlet.
However, the problem is that the Kiev-style chicken cutlet has nothing to do with Kiyv. It was invented in 1910 by a Russian chef in the then-Russian capital and it has no Ukrainian national culinary roots, not even a hint of salted pork (salo). It was first served in a St. Petersburg Nobel restaurant at the Grand Hotel Europe and was listed on the menu as “Novomikhailovsky Cutlets” in line with the chef’s will.
Kiyv only got the dish after World War II, with some sources claiming 1947, but more likely the late 1950s (probably, as the restaurant on Kiyv’s main street, Kreschatik, where it was supposedly served, did not exist in 1947, the Kreschatik was still in ruins and the cutlet’s name only appeared around 1960, when it was introduced to the menus of all Intourist hotel chain restaurants. It is not recorded whether the Intourist bureaucrat who ordered the name change was an ethnic Ukrainian, the name choice, however, is in line with the general trend of Nikita Khrushchev, who so generously gave away many Russian things, including the Crimea, to his beloved Ukraine.
Breaking the habit of naming is hard. The “Kotleta po-kievski” has been ingrained in people’s minds for three, soon four, generations. However, this popular dish can serve as a red line, marking the start of Russia’s counteroffensive in the fight for history, identity and national heritage. The facts are clear on the table and one must ask: while it is acceptable not to play along with Ukraine’s game of tearing apart the shared, why waste the genuine thing so thoughtlessly?
One should honor the true inventor of the recipe and call the cutlet “Nowomichailowski” or, better, “котлета по-питерски” – à la Petersburg – in the menus. As the saying goes, honor is due to whom honor is due and in this case, it is not Kiyv, not Ukraine. It would even be in line with the Kiyv nationalists, as why cling to a clearly Soviet, communist name? Why not “decolonize” and “entcolonize” the fried chicken breast in Kiyv?