Having spent several months in Romania in the early 70's, I have to say that I remember only one actual brand: Mamaia fruit nectars. Some products at the time were imported from China, and there was great Czech beer (Pilsner Urquell) and cheap Stolichnaya or the Romanian plum eau-de-vie, tuica. The Romanian beer tended to be a bit flat, and was often drunk with a line of salt on the rim of the mug. Many of the ingredients for Romanian standbys like sarmale (stuffed pickled cabbage) and gogosari (sweet and sour pickled red peppers) are available at Devon Market. Also available there is freshly made cheese pie-- I think it's Bosnian-- but very much like Turkish burek and Romanian cheese palacinta. They have a pretty wide selection of Romanian and Georgian wine as well. Especially nostaligic for me are jams made from rose petals or tomatoes. i have not found any tomato jam here, but Marketplace on Oakton has rose petal jam form Greece and Bulgarian Kashkaval. I would love to find the sausages called cirnati oltenesti, if anyone knows where they can be found in Chicago.
In Bucharest I remember spending lots of time waiting for authentic turkish coffee-- cafea turceasca-- to be brewed in cafes. The barman would mix the finely ground coffee with cold water in a copper beaker and then bury the beaker halfway in an electrified tray of heated sand. In a few minutes, the coffee would foam up, boiling. Then the thick mud would be poured into a waiting cup to settle and cool a bit before drinking. I always liked to jump the gun and taste some of the foam--a kind of gritty crema, really.
In the fall they would set up temporary outdoor restaurants to celebrate the newly pressed grape must--they were called Mustarias, I think. They would serve a very salty lamb pastrami and mamaliga (polenta) with gogosari.I also remember a couple of fantastic konditorei-like patisseries, one by the Athenee Palace Hotel-that made wonderful profiteroles. Another treat was a half pound of fresh beluga that I ate with four other penny-pinching students at a restaurant only open to party members, called Minion (Don't aske me how we got in), What I do remember is the incredible size of the beads of caviar and the price: $14 a person!
For true Soviet era nostalgia, though, I would have to go with the pack of Sputnik brand cigarettes that I have in a box somewhere. They are truly beautiful, if unsmokeable. The box itself is a work of art: a rigid cardboard case about 5 inches square with a deep blue paper cover featuring a gilded Sputnik apparently barrelling through the stars-- a vision in red and gold. The other cool thing is that the box is not ruined when you open it, but functions as a case. The cigarettes themselves are unfiltered but fitted with long carboard tubes like cigarette holders that you are supposed to pinch before you smoke them. I also have a box of smokes that has a folkloric theme --think nesting dolls, of a village scene in black, yellow, red and green. Very striking.
Man : I can't understand how a poet like you can eat that stuff.
T. S. Eliot: Ah, but you're not a poet.