Lo and behold, there is an Uyghur restaurant in Brighton Beach, Cafe Kashkar. I’d heard about the plight of the Uyghurs in northwestern China, and their position on the endangered species list due to the Chinese policy of ethnic resettlement. The US has its own policy of resettling Uyghurs to Bermuda, but Cafe Kashkar is, for now, still on Brighton Beach serving delicious food. So a meal seemed urgent.
The interior of the place has what Nina describes as Uzbeki decorations: colorful flowers and textiles and glitzy ornaments hung from the walls. She was of the impression that the Uyghurs were Uzbekis, not Chinese. The wait staff certainly look more Uzbeki than Chinese, and they speak Russian, which explains the restaurant’s location.
Langsai and samsa
After requesting recommended traditional dishes of the waiter, he yelled back to the kitchen, “Hey, I need a translation!” in Russian. Another waiter explained the situation. We would start with a pot of excellent green tea while we waited for langsai, a glass noodle salad with cilantro, thinly sliced vegetables and vinegar; this would be followed by samsa, a type of filo pastry filled with lamb and chopped onions; then another type of bready dough ball with a similar lamb and onion filling; and for the main entree, we would share geiro lagman, spicily sauced thick homemade noodles sauteed with peppers, onions, scallions, green beans, and garlic covering chunky pieces of tender marinated lamb.
Somewhere between the samsa and geiro lagman, I noticed three women huddled together at the table opposite ours, staring intently at the open hand of a plump one dressed in traditional central Asian headdress. I indicated to Nina to look, and her eyes filled with sudden desire. The woman was having her palm read by a central Asian diviner, and there are few things Nina loves more than having her future read.
Geiro lagman
The psychic noticed Nina ogling, and an exchange began in Russian, “Oh… I’d like to have my fortune read,” gushed Nina. To which the woman responded, “You have to pay for that”. “Oh, I’ll gladly pay!” said Nina leaning forward with anticipation. The women all chuckled and returned their collective gazes to the plump Uzbeki’s hand. They had laughed Nina off. Nina was not being taken seriously, and there are few things Nina dislikes more than not being taken seriously.
She stared at me wide-eyed with astonishment for a few moments, before reuptaking the geiro lagman, clearly preoccupied with thoughts of psychics, possible futures, humiliation, and the great unknown. Shortly thereafter, the plump Uzbeki with the hand and the headdress and her friend returned to their jobs preparing food in the kitchen, and the psychic turned towards Nina, staring across the restaurant. “Ok, come, I’ll read your palm,” she said matter-of-factly in proper Russian. Geiro lagman be damned, Nina ran over and sat beside her at the table.
Never thank a psychic.
Nina and the Uyghur psychic
Nice description. Not too much judgment. Pretty good.