Just as I was about to start writing this review of Cafe Rioni, the intrepid Russian volunteer who had helped me consume most of the dishes on the menu came to see me in a state of agitation.
"Don't tell anyone I was smoking in chains!" she implored me in her original brand of English.
Of course she hadn't been smoking in chains, she'd been chain smoking, but it was a highly appropriate image. The cafe is tucked away in a corner directly under the shadow of the Bolshoi Dom (Big House), formerly headquarters of the Leningrad KGB and now a center for various law enforcement organizations.
It is quite possible that some of our next-door neighbors were indeed in chains, although less likely that anyone had given them a cigarette.
A prisoner subsisting on his ration of dry bread and water would have hammered down his cell walls if he'd known of the feast we were indulging in at Cafe Rioni.
The place is run by a Georgian family who prepare generous portions of the Caucasian republic's specialities.
The atmosphere is characterized by the bottomless well of hospitality which Georgians are famous for -- the small dining room, furnished in simple style, hardly differs from that of a family home.
This family has a fondness for tapes of nostalgic 1920s dance music and jazz, although in answer to our enquiry the waitress assured us that she was expecting a delivery of traditional Georgian choral music soon.
The only minor distraction from an evening of pure relaxation was the ancient Russian tradition of placing a television with the sound turned down in a prominent position, so our meal was accompanied by pictures of President Boris Yeltsin and exploding artillery shells in Chechnya.
The cafe's menu varies every day according to the whim of the chef and presumably the availability of ingredients. We were in luck, as one of the starters we ordered was easily the most delicious I have sampled in any St Petersburg eatery.
This was Bazhe, a white, flaky fish submerged in a strongly flavored sauce of nuts, oil and garlic. It cost 28,500 roubles.
We soaked up the sauce with two kinds of cheese bread -- puffy slices of Khachapuri (7,000 roubles) and thick, moist quadrangles of Azhma (8,000 roubles).
Our other starter was pickled red cabbage (8,500 roubles), described on the menu as Georgian cabbage. We also munched our way through the cafe's own Imeretiya salad, named after a town in western Georgia (19,100 roubles).
The gems we discovered in it were fresh slices of tomato, red pepper, pickled cabbage and mayonnaise, topped off with a pungent, aromatic combination of spices.
Gorbusha (humpback salmon) was a delicacy which we didn't try on that evening. It was on offer in two forms -- with garnish for 21,000 roubles or with blini (pancakes) and caviar for 31,200 roubles.
Instead of more fish we opted for meaty main courses. Chapakhi (20,000 roubles) is a stew with chunks of beef and potato in thick, brown sauce. It warmed our fingers and toes on a freezing winter night but was less subtle than the other dishes and was not a favorite of my dining companion.
Kupaty (21,000 roubles) impressed us much more. After spending a few months in Russia, it would be understandable if you never wanted to see a sausage again, but this sausage was different.
It was not a runtish frankfurter in a plastic wrapper but a juicy, homemade creature practically bursting out of its skin. It was liberally peppered with spices and served with french fries and a varied garnish including stuffed aubergine.
The bottle of Georgian red wine (Kinzmaurauli) which we drank with our meal was sweet and fruity, 26,600 roubles.
Continuing on a sweet theme, we rounded off the evening with lovingly presented bowls of ice-cream and fruit (10,000 roubles). Coffee was 4,000 roubles.
As the waitress saw us to the door with freely flowing pleasantries, she expressed her hopes that we would make the Cafe Rioni a regular haunt and encourage other foreign visitors to eat there.
"I can talk to them fluently in German, I used to teach the language," were her parting words.