Napkin Notes on Russian Restaurants in California - ForumDaily
The article has been automatically translated into English by Google Translate from Russian and has not been edited.
Переклад цього матеріалу українською мовою з російської було автоматично здійснено сервісом Google Translate, без подальшого редагування тексту.
Bu məqalə Google Translate servisi vasitəsi ilə avtomatik olaraq rus dilindən azərbaycan dilinə tərcümə olunmuşdur. Bundan sonra mətn redaktə edilməmişdir.

Napkin notes on Russian restaurants in California

When you get to a Russian restaurant in California, you unwittingly start to believe that someone invented a time machine. Because this time itself has stopped here. In any case, my personal experience so far has been just that. But sometimes you just want to plunge into the tastes of childhood, so that it seemed that my grandmother prepared it for me.

Hello from 90's

Remember, there were such tents near the metro, with domes that make it unclear whether the church or the mosque is inside. Now the metro in Moscow probably has none. And in California, a restaurant may well be waiting for you in this tent. The public also stepped out of 90's. I thought that the lads had shot each other, but she was alive: straight leather jackets, olympic shirts, short shaved necks, thick gold chains, pumped shoulders, a frowning look, and no one was smiling. But in restaurants we go to eat, and not to stare at people. At the banquet in the Russian restaurant, too, no one will let you escape from the delicious embrace of the past. Remember the new year in 1978 year - slicing, pickles and tomatoes, mayonnaise salads, carrot decorations. As they say, do not envy our luxury.

I love to eat Russian food from time to time, but going to a Russian restaurant in Los Angeles for a plate of borscht requires me to muster up the strength. The waiters are full of pathos. If you don’t order a banquet or the most expensive dishes, or don’t fill yourself with alcohol, be prepared to hear someone dissatisfied: “Is that all? Will you take anything else?”

There was an incident with one of my friends in the mid-90s in the Moscow Passage, when she asked where she could find some kind of dress, the saleswoman, having examined her from head to toe, languidly replied: “There is nothing for you in our store,” emphasizing “ours”. The same thing happens in Russian restaurants. There is nothing like this anywhere in America. Not a single ethnic restaurant made it clear to me that they were unhappy that I was ordering just one dish, and not an appetizer-soup-second-compote. And forget about ordering the waiter one dish for two, otherwise you will immediately fall into the ranks of unloved customers.

Why bake pancakes is harder than corn cake

In the last visit to the famous Russian restaurant "Traktir" in West Hollywood, they imposed a "salad" on me (I was forced to order not to look like a fool for my husband, who did not understand Russian, but could feel that the conversation was being held down) for 15 . The salad was excellent, as we like - cucumbers, tomatoes and onions, filled with odorous sunflower oil. A salad in any other restaurant at lunchtime would be either free or in the $ 5 area. Of course, Russian cuisine is traditionally expensive, although I don’t understand why it’s harder to bake pancakes or cook a hodgepodge than make burritos, tacos, kebabs or sweet and sour chicken - all these dishes of ethnic cuisine (Mexican, Arabic, Chinese) are traditionally considered cheap. And do not wait in Russian restaurants chic interiors, on the contrary! In the toilet you will wade through the kitchen, and the furniture will resemble a buffet at the provincial station in the midst of stagnation.

For the sake of five khinkali, I will not boil water

If you ask for water in a Russian restaurant, they will bring you expensive bottled water, which will cost at least $8, like in the most expensive steakhouse. At the same time, in almost all restaurants in America, ordering “water” means free unlimited water, and no one has ever shaken their head at me disapprovingly when, when asked about drinks, I ask for water with ice. Now I already know about this and at least order “Borjomi” - paying for “just water” seems crazy to me.

But water is a small thing compared to the fact that in Russian restaurants they can add 20% to your bill by default. And since it wouldn’t even occur to me that this is possible, I give another 20% on top of that.

But the most beautiful incident occurred in my Caucasian restaurant in Hollywood. For some reason there is no Georgian cuisine in California, I miss her so much. And then somehow I see the sign "Khinkali"! Well, of course, parked and gone. The interior is already familiar, from the TV shouting "Let They Speak." What is the difference, if only khinkali were good.

We sit down and a gloomy grandmother comes out, wiping her hands on her apron. Friends, how many pieces of khinkali do you usually order? Three? Four? Here I am too! But since I was salivating, I ordered five. You’ll never guess what answer I heard. “I won’t even boil water for five grand.”

Tempered by meditation, I ordered 14 khinkali (they, by the way, are $4 apiece), and my husband ordered lamb kebab. Only now, instead of shish kebab for $15, they brought him lamb on the bone, twice as expensive, because... “you’ll like it better.”

Pleasant exceptions

But there are exceptions to the rule. We walked once in San Diego and saw the sign "Restaurant Pushkin". We stopped to look at the menu - there is Caucasian and Russian cuisine. The owner immediately went out and I took my soul there. Simple and tasty food at human prices.

I foresee the question, why do I go to Russian restaurants if I don’t like everything there so much? I answer: I end up there by accident, because one is next to my dentist, and I find myself near the other during lunch, when I really want to eat. And if I really miss Russian food, I buy it at Arbat Deli. Zrazy, cheesecakes, eggplant snacks, Olivier salad with homemade mayonnaise and all sorts of other delicious things that take me back to childhood, when it seems that my grandmother prepared all this for me.

Katya MatoyanLife Coach from Los Angeles

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