The Barbarians in Moscow

It's been nearly three years since I moved to Moscow and stopped writing this blog. During our time here, the city has finally secured a place for itself on the gastronomic globe, with Varvary - The Barbarians - becoming the first ever Russian restaurant to make it into the world's Top 50 (sneaking in at number 49).



In many ways, the place is very typical of the Moscow dining scene, with over the top decor, a surly doorman and sky-high wine prices. We had booked a place on the balcony, but were told that the tasting menu would only be served indoors, as the strong wind and pukh* outside would ruin the delicate presentation.

Unusually though, Varvary takes pride in using local ingredients. This is a welcome change in a country where distant foreign imports are still the most prized, because local produce is considered to be of poor quality and people want to show that they can afford the best.

The 11 courses of the 8,500 roubles (190 pounds) "Gastronomic Show - Moscow Summer 2011" also had a distinct Russian flavour, showcasing such traditional, unglamorous ingredients as mayonnaise, dill and potato.



A good example of this was the appetiser, featuring "Real Russian Flavour" in the form of intense beetroot jelly on a sliver of black bread (remnants can be seen on the tablecloth in the photo!). On the same plate there was also sea buckthorn (a bitter, orange berry so beloved by Russians it even features as a toothpaste flavour) with curd cheese, shaped like the Japanese maki rolls that are omnipresent here; cream of broccoli with cod liver, and a herring mouse with sorrel and rocket -- a concoction of intense green, served in a beautiful egg-bottomed cup and possessing of a very sharp fishy flavour.



Next came the "oyster", the wittiest dish of the set. The flavour of the creature was separated from the traditional slippery texture and infused into a fragile green leaf, floating on a cloud of lemony foam in a silver spoon. The generously-sized oyster itself, on the other hand, was distinctly unoysterish, served baked under a parmesan crust in a very Russian sauce which the husband identified as warm mayonnaise.

Being a lady (ahem), I was then served the Spring Meadow -- a plate of green salad and fresh asparagus with steaming chunks of white truffle flavoured dry ice around a golden pond of a poached egg.

The manly alternative consisted of a shot of vodka and a plate of intense traditional beetroot soup, borsch, with a ball of dill-speckled sour cream which dramatically burst within moments of serving. Ironically, I preferred the borsch, while the husband was most taken with my salad!

There was generally a lot of soup on the menu -- gaspacho ice cream with lobster bisque was followed by langoustine soup with calmari essence, both nice enough but not spectacular and, together, overdoing the fishy liquid quotient of the meal.

A Russian-style dumpling (varenik) with succulent Kamchatka crab was a hands down favourite, with the quality ingredients shining through. Vareniki, or pelmini as their meat equivalents are known, will be probably the Russian food that I will miss the most, as they are cheap freezer staple for us on those too lazy/tired to cook evenings, though I am more used to them stuffed with non-descript meat than prime seafood.

The fish and meat main courses -- silver cod with peas and beans, and veal on the bone with pepper sauce -- were surprisingly simple, again allowing the quality ingredients to shine through. They were interspersed with potato with dill and red caviar, but alas by this stage the wine had started to kick in, and I can no longer recall how these traditional Russian staples were woven together. Restaurant blogging here seems all but non-exhistent, so google was of no help -- you'll just to have to go and check it out for yourself.

The meal finished off with a selection of honey-based dainties, followed by cute little pots of cream and jam and another potato - this one a chocolate cake-cum-sweet of Soviet childhood.

With a bottle and a half of one of the cheapest wines, the final bill rivalled our lunch in the Fat Duck. In terms of the food and the whole 'show', I would say Hesthon Blumenthal has nothing to worry about yet. But Varvary does offer the most interesting food I have tried in Moscow, while proving that Russian cooking can be turned into a cuisine.

Our time here is running out and London beckons again, so it's too late for me to start a Moscow blog, but I will do a write up of some of my favourite places here - watch this space.

Varvary, 8A, Strastnoy Boulevard, Moscow, Russia; Tel. +7(495) 229-28-00; http://www.anatolykomm.ru/Varvary



*Pukh is Russia's summer snow. In May and early June, the white fluff blows off poplar trees in Moscow's parks and boulevards, covering the streets and getting into everything from drinks to nostrils. The story goes that after the war, the powers that be wanted to make the city green as quickly as possible, and they chose the poplar as the fastest growing breed in the moderate climate. But in their hurry, they filled the streets with female trees, which produce the fluff (insert sexist joke), ensuring year round snow in the Russian capital.

Angelus - heavenly foie

For the previous hour, the escapade to west London in search of foie gras crème brule had seemed like a very terrible idea. They shut the central line just as we got to the tube entrance, and what should have been a simple hop on the tube turned into a nightmare journey featuring three buses, a sprint along High Holborn past stationary traffic and a very uncomfortable, overcrowded one-stop on the tube. But, ensconced on a comfy dark red leather banquette and taking my first sip of quickly proffered champagne (£7.50), I knew we'd made the right decision. Angelus was just gorgeous. The tap water came in those cute little pastis bottles and was re-filled unbidden. The service was very helpful and elegant without being overly stuffy. The white walls were decorated with the most glorious mirror in an art-nouveau curvy wooden frame, and matchingly encased prints of elegant French ladies. It reminded me of a more modern, less OTT version of Julien, one of my favourite Parisian brasseries. The menu (as the lady, I was almost expecting to receive the version without prices - it was that kind of place) is actually surprisingly reasonable. Starters in the £5-10 range, and nearly all mains under the £20 mark. The long wine list, focussing on France, also featured a surprising number of bottles under £30 and some for as little as £13. We decided to experiment with a macon for £21, which was nice but not stunning. Obviously, I had the crème brule (£9). It came in a wide byt shallow plate, a circle of creamy, speckled brownness ensconced in a halo of snow-white china. There was a pleasing crack as I broke through the sweet caramel top to reveal silky smooth liver pate underneath. It was gorgeous, and almost too delicate for the accompanying brown toast. (Though it was still *just* foie gras, and if I am really honest, I was a teensy bit disappointed as I was expecting some fairy magic.) The husband's egg cocotte (£7) came in a tall martini glass crammed with wild mushrooms and luscious, orange egg gooiness. There was plenty of bread on offer from the bread basket to mop up every last bit of the juices. Next, came a pie of rabbit with foie gras and port (£18) with a decent house read (£4 a glass). Again, it looked stunning, served with a slice cut out and set slightly aside. It was also the nicest rabbit I've ever had (not quite as grand a claim as it sounds, as I've probably only had rabbit half a dozen times in my life). The dover sole (£21) was also very good, and the whole lot came with some buttery mash on the side. This review is starting to sound too sycophantic, so I shall mention that the lettuce (both with the starter and the main) was too bitter for my taste, and largely left uneaten. The cheese plate (£9) was also perhaps a little underwhelming, but by then the flavours were a little dulled by the alcohol :-)
Now all I need is another excuse for a celebration to justify a return visit to my bank balance. And it looks like we might have to make another trip out west soon to check out the new St John wannabe.

Angelus, 4 Bathurst Street, W2 2SD ; Tel. 020 7402 0083; Tube: Lancaster Gate www.angelusrestaurant.co.uk

Shanghai Blues - Notes of Class

In our search for live music eateries, we'd never previously considered Shanghai Blues. It looks a bit scary and unwelcoming, hidden inside a door-manned building on a busy road near Holborn. Plus, I'd never seen it in Time Out and the like, and thus hadn't really twigged that the "blues" bit was a reference to live music. But now, luckily, our ignorance of the place has been remedied by a Saturday night visit. This is the kind of place where you wouldn't feel at all out of place in your swirliest cocktail dress, and where the doorman will shoo you away in a pair of shorts. We had got our act together too late for a table in the restaurant, and so lounged instead on sofa-type seats in the bar. The really rather good jazz band played from a balcony above us (though you can sit on that level too, possibly with a cover charge). The cocktail list looked stunning, but £8 a pop. So we opted instead for a delicious bottle of New Zealand sauvingon blanc (at £25 this was the cheapest thing on the shortened bar wine list - though they may well be cheaper options in the extended version - but this was no vin de pays, so I didn't mind paying). It came with free nibbles of spicy nuts and prawn crackers. In a way, it was a bonus that they put the bottle in an ice bucket out of our reach, or it would have gone much more quickly! The £12 selection of dim sum dumplings from the short bar menu certainly didn't hang around. The dumplings were tender and delicious, though far too few in number to make much of a dent in my hunger. Next time we will book in advance, bring the credit card and settle in for a night of sophistication. Alternatively, this would be a great place to come for a cocktail to kick start a night out - £8 isn't so much if you only have the one, especially if you factor in the free nibbles, the free music and the glamorous setting.

Shanghai Blues, 193-197 High Holborn, WC1V 7BD; Tel: 20-7404-1668; Tube: Holborn; www.shanghaiblues.co.uk

Brian Turner Mayfair,

The walk through Mayfair, past boutiques sparsely sprinkled with eye-wateringly expensive wares, and then along the leafy, embassy filled Grosvenor Square sets the mood for the posh dining experience that's offered at Brian Turner's eponymous restaurant in the Millennium Hotel. The staff though were much more genial than one usually expects in such places, joking with us and helping to make the meal (a hen night) a more memorable occasion. (That didn't stop them constantly topping up the drinks though in a bid to get us to buy more of the £3.95 bottled water!) We chose from the £28.50-for-3-courses-and-a-glass-of-fizz menu, thanks to a special offer on toptable . There were three options for each course, as well as an amuse bouche of crab and sweet corn fritter, which got a universal thumbs up (though IMHO it would have been much better sans sweet corn -- who needs vegetables?!). My foie gras starter was creamy and rich, and went beautifully with the roll of buttery brioche. The gilt headed bream main course was a generous, well-cooked portion atop a pile of filling risotto with squid rings. It was tough finding the room for pudding, and to my mind the plate of three British cheeses was by far the least inspiring part of the meal. With coffee and champagne (well, it was a special occasion), my share of the bill came to £60 -- not too bad for a special treat, which this definitely felt like. But I dread to think how much it would have come to at a la carte prices!

Brian Turner Mayfair, Millennium Hotel London Mayfair, Grosvenor Square, W1K 2HP; Tel: 020 7596 3444 ;www.brianturneronline.co.uk ; Tube: Bond Street

Coq d'Argent

Coq d'Argent is a surreal place, accessed through a moderately grubby shopping centre/tube station combo. But the lift is flanked by two pretty ladies with clip-boards - a sign that you are about to step into a different world. A world of an orderly roof garden, full of suits drinking overpriced mineral water (£3.75 a bottle) amid the city roof tops. Alas, there was no room outside, so we settled next to a window opened out onto the roof garden. The set menu offers two courses for £24, three for £28 - not bad considering you are in the city. Otherwise starters are around £10 and mains a bit under £20. My starter of cold Vichissoise soup with truffles was a lovely bowl of creaminess. Luckily it was not the kind of soup that needs bread, for the one measly bread roll was very unremarkable and no refill was forthcoming. The disadvantage of work lunches is that you can't pinch everyone else's food, so I have to rely on sight. The fois gras on (savoury) ginger bread looked lovely, although its eater said it was bit too rich. The smoked salmon looked unimpressive, topped with a solitary roughly shaped blini - at these prices I was glad I had opted for something more unusual. The main of sea bass on a bad of beans and capers was nice, though modestly sized. The chicken supreme from the a la carte looked more generous, wrapped in pieces of ham and surrounded by mushrooms in a creamy sauce. Unusually for a city venue, the service was slow - it took us about two hours to get through the two courses and coffee (£3, alas with not even a sliver of an after eight). Overall, it was quite nice, and worth a visit for the views. But other than that, there was little to mark it out from its numerous suit-filled rivals in the gilded square mile.

Coq d'Argent, No. 1 Poultry, EC2R 8EJ; Tel. EC2R 8EJ; Tube: Bank; www.coqdargent.co.uk

Le Gavroche

I've been to busy to post recently - but not too busy to eat, so will be trying to catch up on the writing up.

First, Le Gavroche - a wonderfully old fashioned institution in Mayfair. It comes in at number 28 in the list of world's top restaurants, and the listing also informs us that it's been around for 40 years and one loyal customer has been coming in for lunch every weekday for the past 18. And I can see why he (in this setting, it's bound to be he) would. The gentlemen wear jackets. There is a cosy bar with tartan sofas and an eclectic art collection (ranging from various pictures of the eponymous tearaway to Chagall) in which to enjoy an aperitif while perusing the menu and the list of merchandise (from the colourful plates with a likeness of Mr Roux to cutlery with handles shaped like Gavroche, it's all for sale!). This is Mayfair and the place has two Michelin stars, so the prices are hefty. But weekday lunchtimes offer the bargain of 3 courses, coffee, half a bottle of wine and half a bottle of water for £48 -- less than some of the a la carte main courses.
Our pink champagne was offered with amuse-bouches of tempura prawns and chicken liver pate on toast. Downstairs the green walls are adorned with more art and each table features an amazing animal sculpture made out of cutlery. Ours was a turkey, with fork handles for a tail and spoons for belly feathers. The numerous staff were very discrete, topping up our glasses of Pinot Blanc de Blancs and water when required as opposed to sloshing it all in in a bid to sell another bottle. Another amuse bouche of tender fish fillet in green sauce went down very well. My starter - half a lobster - made the menu seem like a complete bargain. My companion's salmon gravadlax was lovely, but he kept sneaking jealous glances at the lobster. There were warm fresh rolls with two types of butter to mop up the juices. My main of mackerel with wild mushrooms was also good, while my companion had some of the nicest veal I've ever tasted. For desert, we chose four cheeses each from a bulging, oozing wooden board. The fourme d'ambert was gorgeous, the camembert with Calvados a bit too adventurous for my taste. Then there was coffee, with a bowl of juicy cherries (a lovely alternative to after dinner mints), and offers of refills. We waddled stuffed and a little tipsy into the afternoon drizzle. This was the life.

Le Gavroche, 43 Upper Brook Street, W1K 7QR; Tel. 020 7408 0881; Tube: Marble Arch; www.le-gavroche.co.uk

Loungelover

A plaster cast lion greeted us at the entrance. Two ceramic vases propped up the ceiling in the hall and a hippo's head started at us, open mouthed, from an inside wall. We were entering Loungelover, the bar owned by eccentric decorators behind Three Garcons (fully booked, alas, but we will try again) around the corner and Annex near Oxford Street. This is the kind of place where you don't need to worry about making conversation as any pauses can be spent staring awestruck at the decor. Immaculately made up waitresses handed us hefty leather-bound tomes filled with a bewildering array of cocktail descriptions (£8-10).


Famished we ordered everything from the short tapas-style bar menu (skipping only the £55 sevruga caviar - may be next time!). It turned out to be a variably, beautifully presented feast. A jar of juicy red fish roe, served on a bed of ice, with a jug of sour cream and encircled by cute little blinis was well worth the £18 price tag. The tender smoked salmon came with yet more blini. The cheese and meet platters were generous and varied (I particularly loved the salami with a hint of truffle), served with warm mini-baguettes. There were also two large chunks of pate, a nicely flavoured croque monsieur (though admittedly done more in the Belgian cheese toastie style than the French way), dinky crostinis with various toppings and lashings of salad, olives and sun-dried tomatoes to garnish it all. In my first cocktail, the mix of basil, lemon juice, limoncello and prosecco was sharp and unusual, but delicious. My second choice though accidentally contained whisky (which I don't like). For the feast, and two rounds of drinks for four people, the bill came to under £140. Not cheap, sure, but given the opulence of the decor and the menu it's a pretty good deal. I'd choose for a glamorous treat or somewhere to take to show off in for visitors.

Loungelove, 1 Whitby Street, E2 7DP, www.loungelover.co.uk; Tube: Shoreditch (when it reopens, otherwise bus, walk or taxi)

The Admiralty, Somerset House

A cold Monday night in deep mid-winter is probably not the busiest time for any restaurant and on our visit to the Admiralty only 2 or 3 other tables were occupied. Three sides of the room were lined a leather-style banquette in a vibrant turquoise colour. Across white clothed tables, it was faced by equally turquoise chairs. In a very brightly lit room (it was pitch-black outside), this creates an atmosphere more suited to business lunches than romantic dinners and serves to highlight the unoccupied status of most tables. Aside from some spectacular ship-shaped chandeliers, the room was definitely a thumbs-down. The menu, in matching turquoise, is surprisingly reasonable with starters for £6.50 and mains for £12.50, and around six choices for each. The turquoise wine list runs to two pages, at least a third of it taken up with champagne and premium bottles in the £50+ range. On the more affordable side things start at £18, and though the mark ups are high and the range is conventional, it is all perfectly drinkable :-)
In restaurants, I tend to order interesting sounding things. But the started of snail gratin had me completely baffled. A large ramekin was filled with those tiny little white onions that are usually pickled (though luckily this time were not), drowned in a strange mix of tomato pure and bread crumbs with a few lardons for good measure. Hiding inside were a few juicy snails. "Hmmm... interesting..," said my companion. He was being kind. The dish was somewhat redeemed though by a big piece of lusciously cheesy wafer type thing (which didn't go at all, but was yummy on its own). We also sampled a pale pink salmon and scallop terrine which was just terribly bland. The mains took their time to arrive, leaving the waiters plenty of time to ply us with wine at a dangerous frequency. But they did reluctantly provide some non-bottled water and voluntarily refilled that too. When they did arrive, the mains were a huge improvement on the starters. The wing of skate came was beautifully buttery atop of some rather interesting fennel. My gnocchi were huge and clearly home made. They were a touch sweet but this was more than made up for by the huge pile of delicious wild mushrooms, a beautifully cooked quail egg and a little hill of refreshing tomato salad on the side. So we left filled up and happy, with only a modest dent to the pocket. But given the stunning location inside Somerset House, the Admiralty could -- should -- be much better, both in food and in decor.

The Admiralty, Somerset House, The Strand, WC2R 1LA; Tel: 020 7845 4600; Tube: Temple www.somersethouse.org.uk

Rules

Rules claims to be the oldest restaurant in London and it is indeed a venerable insitution, somewhat reminiscent of the grand old Parisian brasseries. Despite being quite a large place, it does get booked, so book before you go. Inside, the walls are covered with pictures - from a somewhat disturbing caricature of Margaret Thatcher in knightley armour (the Iron Lady, geddit?) to certificates for cattle at Smithfield market from a century or more ago. The waiters are unfailing polite and dressed in those long white aprons they wear in France. The clientele is mixed - from tourists to businessmen to couples - and the atmosphere is posh but not snooty. They were happy to bring us tap water and refilled it unbidden, for example. Meat is the big thing on the menu, sourced from the restaurant's own Scottish estate. We started with duck salad (£9) and unbelievably tender, thin slivers of smoked venison (£10). For mains, I sampled my most expensive ever, 30-day hung sirloin steak for £18. It was worth it, and came with a mount of thin, crispy chips - just the way I like them. The roast partidge was also a success. Washed down with some perfecly quaffable house claret (£16 a bottle), and throwing in the service charge and a couple of aperetifs, the bill came to around £100. You could do it cheaper, but I recommend putting your self in treat mode, getting out the credit card and savouring every mouthful. You could always use some visiting foreigners as an excuse to come here and prove that there is such a thing as a traditional Endlish restuarant, and a good one at that. (They also have a late night two courses for £18 deal, which is well worth trying if you are hungry post-theatre).
Rules Restaurant, 35 Maiden Lane, London, WC2E 7LB, www.rules.co.uk, Tel. 0207 836 5314; Open noon-midnight, Mon-Sun; Tube: Covent Garden or Charing Cross

Portal

This is a newish place, serving fancy food with a Portuguese slant. There is a bar at the front, and in the back a rather lovely glass conservatory with plant-shielded windows. The decor is similar to many other places of this genre - white table cloths, dark wood, exotic flower buds in little shot glasses on the tables.
It's a good place for a special treat, and for that the prices are quite reasonable. Before the meal we were treated to a selection of bread served with butter and olive oil/vinegar combo, shot glasses of warm green soup, little ramekins of some flavoursome vegetables, miniature vegetarian tarts and generous half-moons of ravioli stuffed with duck and wild mushrooms with a chilli sauce. Of the starters, the star was probably duo of tuna and salmon attain - deliciously fresh and tender raw fish. Mille feuille of goats cheese with asparagus, poached egg and hollandaise sauce was also gorgeous, if a little too rich. Anchovies served with roast tomatoes were, quite frankly, rather dull, but as the dish met its description word for mouthful and there were plenty of alternatives (a choice of 10 or so starters), one can't really complain. Tuna with foie gras came with two very generous slabs of the fatty goose liver pate, but might have been tastier had the tuna been cooked for less time. The main winner was braised bisaro (apparently some kind of Portuguese pig crossed with a wild boar), which very tender and flavoursome and hearty in a wintry casserole kind of way. The fillet of sea bass benefited from the rich flavours of an accompanying crab and sun dried tomato risotto. This is a place with an ambitious menu, and most of it works very well. There are the odd slip ups - a lump of something that looked and tasted like suet pudding that came with the tataki for example, or a bizarre little pot of green stuff which came with the Dover sole and tasted distantly of mustardy creamed spinach. But overall, the meal was a success.
The place seems to attract a mixed crowd, from groups of friends to business meetings to loved-up couples. The wine list has some interesting bottles from Portugal at reasonable prices, and a couple of bottle largers from that part of the world. The staff are friendly, though the service was perhaps a little too slow on this visit.
With booze and the 12 percent service charge, expect to pay about £90 for a two-course dinner for two. The bar, I believe, also offers an alternative menu of small tapas-style dishes, which we have yet to sample. It is advisable to book the restaurant unless you are going mid-week.
Portal, 88 St John's Street, London, EC1M 4EH, Tel. 0207 253 6950; Tube: Barbican; www.portalrestaurant.co.uk

Comptoir Gascon

Comptoir Gascon is the offspring of the City foie gras heaven that is Club Gascon. It started life as a deli on the other side of Smithfield market, full of tempting but pricey gastronomic tit bits. Earlier this year they squeezed up their food laden shelves and fitted in a few dark-wood tables. The size of the place, its newness and good reviews in the press mean it's actually relatively hard to book a table, although there is an option of eating at the bar. The menu is French and fairly simple, supplemented by a few specials on the blackboard. There is no clear split between starters and mains, although our portions were of a good size. I had salade Landaise from the blackboard - tender green beans, with specs of foie gras, and slices of cured duck meat. My companion had hearty Cassoulet Toulousain. Most dishes fall in the £10-£15 price bracket. There is a good selection of wines - by the bottle, by the glass (from £3.50) and by the 45cl carafe called a fillette (£7.50). To finish off I was greedy and had foie gras, which - at £10 - came in two very generous slabs with some nice toasted bread with bits in. They add on a 12.5 percent service charge to the final bill.
There are tealights on the tables and the deli-laden shelves add to the cosy yet trendy atmosphere. The service was quite friendly, if a little absent-minded. Overall, even with the foie gras, it was a well-priced and tasty meal and I would happily go back for seconds.
Comptoir Gascon, 61-63 Charterhouse Street, London, EC1M 6HJ; Tel. 0207 608 80851; Tube: Barbican or Farringdon