The stately buildings which line St Petersburg's canals can easily lead one to fantasize about what life must have been like for aristocrats or wealthy merchants in tsarist Russia. At the Ambassador restaurant on the Fontanka this fantasy becomes a reality for an evening.
Like the mirror in "Alice Through the Looking Glass," the entrance is an ornate mirrored door which transports one into a parallel universe: the epitome of refinement, gentility and intimacy. Here there are no thugs in dark glasses with mobile phones waiting to ward off undesirables. There is a doorman who takes the coats and waiters to accompany diners to their chosen table.
The restaurant's two rooms are divided by a curtain but both are graced by a wandering guitar player who unobtrusively strums variations on everything from film scores to the Soviet national anthem. The lights are low and the setting is almost perfect for a romantic tete-a-tete - except, perhaps there should be a few more tables for two rather than six.
The sense of elegance is so overwhelming, heightened by the meekness of the waiters and the elaborate paintings on the ceiling, that anyone intending to hold a boisterous party with loud toasts should probably go somewhere else. At the Ambassador restaurant I was a witness to the quietest wedding celebrations I have ever seen in my life. The guests rarely raised their voices above a whisper.
When the atmosphere has finally been soaked in it is then possible to start thinking about food. We were not shown a drinks menu but simply asked what we would like. I felt that in such surroundings a bottle of wine was the only correct answer, but had to rethink when I was informed that the prices range from $10 to $30. All the prices at this restaurant are in dollars and it is necessary to do one's own rouble calculations according to the daily exchange rate.
Settling for beer at $4 a bottle, we received some compensation by being politely shown our beers and then having them poured for us into wine glasses. Turning to the main business of the evening, it was difficult to avoid being tempted by the selection of dishes which include caviar. The crab cocktail which I ordered ($12) was liberally topped with translucent orange salmon eggs. Underneath was a delicate sauce and crisp vegetables.
My companion began his repast with the luxuriant Favorite salad ($10), a name whose connotation implies the emperor or empress's lover. And how not to fall in love with such an ensemble of crab, boiled sturgeon, button mushrooms, asparagus, lemon juice and olive oil? Salads appear to be the speciality of the Ambassador restaurant as most of the menu consists of pages of various salads divided into meat, fish and vegetarian dishes, all with extravagant-sounding names.
On the side we were given soft, white rolls and curls of butter.
To follow I treated myself to yet more caviar with the Tsar's blini and smetana (sour cream) for $16. These were in fact the kind of British flat pancakes which are usually eaten with maple syrup and not the traditional Russian rolled-up savory blini. As a main course they were not particularly substantial but their preparation and presentation was impeccable.
The other dish we sampled was the Italian pork cutlet with cheese ($13). It exuded flavour as Italians exude hospitality.
I was in no hurry to smother the taste of my first two courses with a sweet, but purely in the interest of investigation I compelled myself to indulge in the Elbrus dessert, which is a generous helping of chocolate ice cream sprinkled with pieces of jelly ($4). Other homemade sweets include fruit salad ($5), fruit pie ($6) and cake ($5). Most unusual for Russia is the Viennese coffee with whipped cream ($2), although we rounded off our meal with long gin and tonics ($4) and tea ($1).