By Lloyd Donaldson
I thought I had friends in this town. So why is it that they've been keeping the Golden Dragon a secret from me?
When a Vietnamese restaurateur puts two chefs, one Chinese and one Vietnamese, between the same four walls, ships in food straight from Hanoi and Saigon, and tells them to make their fantasies come true, the result can't help but be spectacular.
It's all packed into an intimate seven-table room whose slightly off-the-beaten track location feels distinctly "meanwhile on the other side of town," while actually being within walking distance of the Mariinski Theater.
Inside, a painted dragon on the ceiling overlooks tasteful red-panelled and mirrored walls, and simple but classy black furniture. Dragons reappear on the bronzed lamp-fittings.
But it is the menu (in both Russian and English) that gives the first taste of what is to come.
We had chosen the Golden Dragon as a nice treat for babushka.
Having never been in a restaurant before, she probably now thinks it perfectly normal to see a menu divided into sections devoted to a cornucopia of exotic concoctions of beef, fish, chicken, pork, prawn, oyster, crab, squid, kid, rabbit, eel -- and frog. Kasha will never taste the same again.
The relatively modest range of soups span fish to fowl to vegetarian, and include the intriguing "Ten Tastes" soup.
Our choices, crab with tropical mushroom soup and eel soup, were rich and hearty, and made for an great conversation point by being full of totally unidentifiable ingredients. Welcome to the Orient.
As we waited for our mains we reflected on whether we had been foolishly adventuresome in ordering the roasted eel with tropical mushrooms and frog with young bamboo. (Babushka weighed in with what was from her perspective the equally exotic Chinese pork with sauce).
Other possibilities had included oysters with pineapple and pepper, rabbit boiled in wine sauce, carp boiled in beer, the enigmatic cutted kid, roast chicken with fruits of lotus, and the crabs in orange sauce flambee.
Our trepidation as we waited for our dishes was undeserved.
All were beautifully presented, and each tasted like something out of this world -- a cliche that takes new life given the sorry history of Soviet cuisine.
The frog came with a fennel garnish, bamboo and peppers. The lean and oh-so-soft pork passed the babushka test with flying colors, though her valiant attempts to master a set of chop-sticks came to naught.
And the eel, ah the eel! Pleasing to the eye, strong in flavor, spicy, with mushrooms from heaven and a sauce that belies description.
The Golden Dragon's accent on plentiful and exotic choice extends to its accompanying rices: Japanese, Hanoi, Indian, Chinese and (for the faint at heart) plain.
Vegetarians and kosher Jews should note that there is pork and other meats everywhere, including in the fried rice.
Our salads proved to be equals of the dishes they supported, with cabbage, cucumber, tomato, yellow peppers, plum, strips of dried beef, sesame seeds and lots more besides in a fascinating combination of tastes and sauces.
Russian black bread proved a strange, but understandable counterpoint to the meal. Babushka certainly appreciated it as a cultural anchor.
So much for the food. What about the service? Our Russian waitress was pleasant, efficient, attentive and unobtrusive.
A wide range of alcohol is available. Vodkas (which are sold in 50g lots for 4,000-5,000 roubles) include Smirnoff and Absolut. There are gins, rums, whiskies, brandies and cognacs. Beers include Tuborg (10,000), Carlsberg (11,000) and Heineken (12,000). For the indulgent, cocktails range from 14,000-40,000 roubles.
Deserts, as with most Asian restaurants, are mundane and easily forgettable.
However, that is but a small aside to a great meal. Vietnam, where French cuisine meets the orient, offers some of the best eating in the world.
But more than just a good feed, the Golden Dragon is an entire evening out.
What's the catch? There isn't one. The only thing wrong in the entire set-up are the mistakes in the menu (in both languages) that lend so many Asian restaurants their charm.