Vityaz (Russian Knight), one of the few restaurants in Pushkin, makes a surprisingly relaxing stop after sightseeing -- even in the current freezing weather.
The forbidding, concrete pre-Glasnost exterior gives way to newly-rennovated rooms, mutedly decorated.
Your first impression is that you have entered another world, as you are ushered into secluded chambers by a waiter in black tie to an elegantly laid table. Dimmed lighting is adjusted to perfection and a candle is produced with a flourish, set in a wrought-metal holder.
From this vantage point you can admire the miniature trees, strategically placed to add to the atmosphere of privacy created by wooden partitions.
And the food is good -- even if the choice is limited and the menu consists of not particularly imaginative Russian fare.
There were only five different starters and three main-courses -- borscht, pork escalopes and pancakes with caviare.
The rest of the menu was not available -- maybe not a drawback if you're indecisive. The only filling option was the escalopes at 17,000 roubles.
These were excellently presented, served with chipped potatoes, mildly piquant sauce and salad garnish, the vegetable variety giving a burst of colour that disguised the simplicity of this tasty dish.
We also tried the pancakes, but regretted doing so. The caviar was over-salty and the portion tiny.
The highlight of my meal was the stuffed tomato starter (7290 roubles) which we ordered out of curiosity. This was despite the protests of our waiter, who advised us that the house speciality was the meat salad (5865 roubles) -- unoriginal Olivier style, which however looked and tasted good.
The stuffed tomatoes were firm and juicy and served on a bed of parsley, also put to good use in the filling, which had a strong garlic flavour. The other ingredients resembled those in the meat salad.
Other choices included crab salad, the most expensive at 28,000 roubles.
The "wine list" consisted of about half-a-dozen Rhine whites, all priced at 28,000 roubles and listed as serial numbers without names.
We enjoyed the sweetish spaetlese we ended up with even though it wasn't quite the dry white we'd requested, and been shown in advance by our obliging waiter.
This was just one of the Communist era touches which combined to give the effect of a comedy unfolding throughout the courses of ever-diminishing choice (dessert was ice-cream with raisins or nothing.)
The crowning glory had to be the arrival of a stolovaya plastic and stainless steel ice-cream dish alias sugar-bowl with our coffee, which sat in the middle of the table amidst the sparkling wine-glasses and delicate porcelain plates.
However, unlike traditional Soviet establishments, cathartic laughter was not required afterwards to purge the system of bad memories.
After all, at Vityaz we had good food, clean cutlery and the staff made every effort to please.