Continental Breakfast

We entered Europe a couple of hours ago at the boundary of Permskaya, without fanfare or visible change.  Still the birch forests, often dead (I haven’t the language skills to ask) and moribund factories, still railroad workers in their traffic orange vests watching the train go by until they can continue what it was they were doing.  A lady from the restaurant car came by to sell us breakfast: salmon and dill on bread, 2 for 160 rubles.  Train food at train food prices.  One of the salmon sandwiches turned out to be what the sushi restaurants call “ikura”.  “Ikra” is the Russian word for caviar.  I wonder whose word it was first?