The cafe "Shen-Yan" certainly doesn't flaunt itself.
There is no sign indicating its presence at 12 Ulitsa Rubinsteina and the interior is fully concealed by a flowery patterned stained-glass door and windows.
The owner told us that it was not necessary to attract customers from off the street, as they cater to an established clientele.
Named after the Chinese city of Shen-Yan, the cafe serves a delectable cuisine which is apparently typical of northern China.
On entering the softly lit, air-conditioned rooms it was clear that many of the diners, supping behind wooden screens covered in deep purple fabric, hailed from the Orient -- a promising sign.
Both of the restaurant's two rooms are decorated with festive lanterns and large decorative fans. Gaudy streamers, plastic tablecloths and little vases of imitation flowers set a decidedly cafe tone, though with an exciting hint of another world.
Our meal began with a complementary pot of tea which the four of us enjoyed sipping as we pored over one menu. When we asked for another menu our wide-eyed waitress, Lizhon, said this was not possible as they had only two -- so be it.
The extensive menu written in Chinese, Russian and English, is divided into three sections: cold starters, main courses and soups with the few dessert dishes on offer curiously inserted into the cold-starter and soup sections.
Candied floss with ginko ($5) and "fragile banana" ($4.50) were in with the cold starters. I was unable to indulge my whim to taste a fragile banana as there were none left, and as Lizhon was at a loss to explain what ginko was, except to comment that it was suitable with tea, we passed on that one.
Ready to order, having spent at least fifteen minutes painstakingly making our choices, it was a let-down to hear our waitress' periodic refrain of "nyetu" (there isn't any) in a gentle sing-song voice. Lotus chicken ($6) was "nyetu," as were Romaine lettuce served with oyster sauce ($4) and the imagination-defying dish hauntingly referred to as "Sleeping under snow sweetened bean-paste". This prompted us to ask what WAS available (Lizhon assured us that all dishes would be available if ordered in advance).
We wanted to sample a variety of hot dishes and so selected just one cold starter, potato sticks ($1.50) -- a large platter of slightly crunchy boiled potato sticks in a piquant dressing. These had a distinctive taste and complemented our selection of main courses. Other cold starters on offer were sweet tomato ($3), vinegar peppery cucumber ($3) and shredded pork with potato ($4).
Soups on offer were vinegar-peppery soup ($1.50), mixed soup with mushrooms, tomatoes and cucumbers ($3), and cucumber soup with egg. Soup on a balmy summer evening didn't have much appeal and we decided to move on to more substantial fare.
For main course we chose sauteed sliced pork on an iron plate ($10) -- served sizzling, redolent of garlic and coriander. Fish in sweet and sour sauce ($6) was a highlight -- pieces of succulent fish deep-fried in a light crunchy batter and smothered in a perfectly sweet and sour sauce; shredded chicken in mushrooms ($6) didn't have the zest of our other choices though it was tender and tasty enough.
Crab meat with warm sauteed cucumbers ($4.50) was an interesting melange of delicious warm cucumber and diced crab sticks, rather than proper crab meat. Vegetarians take note that the vegetable section is a bit misleading as some dishes, such as fried eggplant ($6), contain meat, though there is no mention of it on the menu. The eggplant was reminiscent of the Japanese speciality tempura -- tender beef and eggplant served in a light, crisp batter. Rice dishes were limited to plain boiled rice and "scrambled egg with rice."
Tea was the only drink available to us, however diners are welcome to bring along the beverage of their choice. We popped out for icy cold Nevskoye beer which went down very well.
The service at Cafe Shen-Yan was gracious. Portions were substantial and dishes were brought to the table in a steady stream.
While there were no fortune cookies to round off the evening one of the restaurant staff shared a Chinese proverb with us: "A little morsel of something ambrosial is preferable to mountains of the more mundane."