During last friday in St. Paul we had a pretty typical day in Minnesota, windy and sunny day, followed by a cloudy evening. As typical as that day was the recurrent question that comes with dusk every friday night: What to do to make this weekend worth the hard week that just passed by us ? This time the doubt did not last long. After hanging out in the commons of SPP for enough time to the urge of eating become actually hunger, me and a few friends headed to the Russian Restaurant, Moscow On The Hill, located in Selby Avenue, a few minutes away from our beloved school.
Getting of the bus and immeadiately facing the facade seen previously on the internet, I had the impression that the place was more of a bar than an actual restaurant. Impression proved wrong as soon as I stepped into the red handmade rug which laid right after the door. A middle aged woman said hello to us, and more than immediately noticed that the ones that came with me were russians, so started to speak a very native-sounding russian language, fact brought to my attention by a posterior comment of one of my mates. This lady had a constant smile on her countenance, altough in no moment it seemed something unnatural. She led us to a table and after talking to my friends for a while, called a waiter to get our orders.
The first order, was common to all of the people who sitted on the table. We ordered Borsch, (in Russian борщ) a type of soup of Ukranian origin, but widely spread troughout Eastern Europe. And as a side order, Piroshki, (in russian пирожок) a baked soft bun, thatn can contain a wide range of fillings, in this case, lamb, seasoned with onions and different types of herbs native from Europe, but grown in America specially for the cooking in Moscow On The Hill. For a few minutes a pleasant chat took place, remembering individual aspects of European Culture, that became the topic due to the unique decoration and ornamentation of the ambient. Including landmarks as the Red Square and the Kremlin.
As expected, the waiter brought us our orders, carrying in a malabaristic motion 8 plates and a basket of bread. We were served and started enjoying the meal. At the first taste, my Brazilian paladar juged the taste as “unusual” to say the least, but after a minuncious analysis of how those new ingredients mixed, behaved while I chewed, I had a pleasant surprise. I was enjoying as said my fellow “Comrades”, true Russian food, really liking it. The Borsch was bodied and consistent, but at the same time smooth and soft, sided by the Piroshki, which had a crunchy crust, with an amazingly soft lamb filling. Really impressive.
After the meal was ended, and the bill payed (U$ 18) a few more minutes of unintelligible Russian talk for me, went trough. Altough the meal was finished and I walked out out of the restaurant, I still could feel the good taste in my mouth. I left the place satisfied, happy by having this new experience, with a smile on my face, and one more good memory made in Minnesota.