I once found myself in Leningrad, in what was then the Soviet Union. Mikhail Gorbachev had only lately come to office, and it was easy to see why he was demanding reform. The place was shabby, the people ill-dressed. Long queues snaked out of the few shops that sold anything worth buying. And the food was vile. My most painful memory is of an evil-tasting grey goo that appeared on every dish I ordered. Apparently this was pureed aubergine, ubiquitous thanks to a bumper harvest.
After a we....
The Merry Drinker
