CityLife

St Petersburg Russian Restaurant

St Petersburg
City centre
November 2009

Average three-course cost: £27

Overall: 3/5
Decor: 3/5, Service: 4/5, Food: 3/5

THE sledgehammer demolition of the Berlin Wall 20 years ago this week not only ushered in an era of democracy and designer sportswear for those in Eastern Europe – it gave the British city break access to once mysterious places behind the Iron Curtain.

But the yearning to discover of the likes of Tallinn, Budapest, Krakow and Prague at the weekend has not stretched to the Motherland – there are no budget flights to St Petersburg, despite it being one of Manchester’s twin cities. 

Similarly, Eastern European workers flocked here in the boom years and brought with them their traditional food, now stocked in delis across the city.

Russian cuisine, though, is still largely undiscovered – there is only a handful of restaurants outside London – with most of us still conjuring up ideas of beetroot soup rather than caviar; despite Russia’s great cities now being more geared to Porsche rather than borsch. But visiting St Petersburg restaurant, up a flight of steps on a neglected part of Sackville Street, was like stumbling on a back street eaterie after arriving late in a strange Slavic city. It is hardly blini with bling.

After being shown to a simple table, we fell upon the huge vodka menu to chase the damp autumn from our bones. There are 50 vodkas to choose from, 43 with different flavours (crème egg, anyone?).

Huge menu

With vodka, simple is best and my chilled shot of Imperia Russkiy Standart (£4.50) was as clear and icy as spring water from the Urals, but I was more intrigued by my friend’s jet coloured Prima, a premium black vodka (£4.25), which had the look of Quink ink.

The restaurant certainly feels authentic, but not in the way of tourist tat nailed to the walls or people serving you in 18th century fancy dress. This place reminded my of somewhere I ate when St Petersburg was Leningrad more than 20 years ago. There was a small group of Russian speakers hunched over the central bar and a Russian news channel claimed the flat screen TV on the wall next to a gold-flecked icon. There is a nautical theme to the old building, too, reflecting St Petersburg’s status as a major port. 

The restaurant, owned by Sergi Kotcherine who has another in Liverpool, has been open for a couple of years and is run by charming Elana Zabornikova and her husband, Vladislav, a former circus trapeze artist who puts on a ‘show’ at weekends. Not swinging from the ceiling sprinkler system we hope. And their welcome was incredibly warm with the staff keen to recommend and explain some of the more unusual offerings on the menu.

That menu is huge and ranges from the ultra traditional to dishes you’d recognise here, but just with Russian names.

Soup is an integral part of Russian cuisine and at St Petersburg there are eight or so to choose from. I wasn’t sure though about the solianka miasnaya, described as ‘liquid pizza’.

My friend had a deep bowl of derevenskiy soup (£6.95), a peasant-style concoction of chicken, mushroom, noodles that wouldn’t have been out of place in a Chinese restaurant, reflecting the huge reach of this diverse country. My classic crimson borsch came with a bowl of thick sour cream to ladle on top. Both were tasty, and hearty enough to cloak my appetite like a fur overcoat, but I still couldn’t put the spoon down.

Not subtle

We then shared another Russian standard – a crab blini (£7.75). Blini are thick crepes and this one had a well-rounded, dense, rich, creamy filling of crab meat with egg and onion.

St Petersburg’s wine list includes ones from the region, but none were available when we visited. The best wine made in the old Soviet Union area is from Georgia, now a sovereign country. Maybe they refuse to supply a restaurant which describes them as wines from the “Russian Empire”.

We chose an Argentinean Monte Flores Malbec/Tempranillo (£17.95) which went well with our meaty mains.

My comrade opposite, always flash, went for Rasputin In Flame (£19.95), fillet cooked nicely rare with a shot of vodka tossed over it and ignited at the table. It also came with another icy shot of liquor on the side. I’m not sure it added to the flavour of the high standard steak and some luckless chips were frazzled, but it certainly was entertaining.

My bowl of steaming pelmeni sibirskie (£14.95) was like a more manly version of ravioli, with thicker dough and came with a good, juicy filling of minced beef and pork in herbs and butter.

It was tasty, but it later felt slightly one-dimensional.

Desserts are an after-thought. We had a slices of seven-layered, chocolate and sponge ‘Russian gateaux’ (£4.95) which, like a Soviet apartment block, was tall, functional and with interesting character all of its own. But it went well with strawberry vodka.

We raised a toast and declared that dining at St Petersburg was like being hugged by a Russian bear. It’s not subtle, nor exactly pretty, but they sure do clasp you to their bosom and it is an experience you won’t forget too easily.

St Petersburg, 68 Sackville Street, M1 3NJ (0161 236 6333, russiancuisine.co.uk).

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