Sisters Ana and Margie savour the warmth and grandeur of Russian culture
Contrary to my expectations of bitter Russian cold, Moscow greeted us with a warm welcome. Entering the city, we were met by elegantly lit buildings, churches, and monuments, some giving us a preview of distinctive baroque and neoclassical architecture. The sights were even more grandiose as we neared the Red Square, where our hotel was located a short walk from St. Basil’s Cathedral, easily spotted for its wildly colourful onion-shaped domes. Enjoying the imperial comforts of the Four Seasons Moscow, we awoke to a rainy morning where the upside was a breakfast buffet that included blinis with a bright sampling of Russian caviar. Of course, we were merely scratching the surface of what local flavours we would savour—if this trip was like a traditional nesting doll (a cutesy souvenir called Matryoshka), we were just about to loosen its exterior.
At the outset, our beaming guide Elena showed us a side of Russia often seen on the news: its government. A walk through the nearby Kremlin revealed halls and interiors that were imposing in expanse and stature. After encountering enough sternly faced guards, we were ready to grab a festive bite and drink, which made Vysota Kislovodsk, the Georgian restaurant Elena brought us to, the perfect next stop. Platters of shashlick (skewered meats) were served alongside the freshest greens, but most memorably, with an eggplant mezze smothered with a creamy walnut spread topped with pomegranate seeds. Though my sister Margie was suffering a cold she acquired on her flight from Los Angeles, she managed to enjoy the introduction to Georgian cuisine as I did.
Wrapping up our meal, Elena had suggested an antidote to her sniffles: a shot of Russian vodka. Thus came a rule about vodka: “You quickly drink it. It is not to be enjoyed,” Elena said. The problem was that my sister is not much of a drinker, so as soon as she downed her shot of vodka, there was no enjoying the rest of the day ahead either—she passed out and was soon whisked back to our hotel.
Luckily, there was enough to keep our senses occupied through the rest of our time in Moscow. The following evening, we took in a performance at the esteemed Bolshoi theater. While Moscow was about to host the FIFA World Cup 2018 at the time, causing traffic jams in preparation for the spectacle, the ballet was the sort of physicality I marvelled at. There was no question that the Bolshoi was the Olympus of ballet given the power and grace with which prima ballerina Ekaterina Krysanova leapt and pirouetted across the stage in a rendition of La Bayadère.
Moscow also managed to offer us the pinnacle of Russia’s dining scene. At Michelin-starred restaurant White Rabbit, we lounged on tufted leather sofas enjoying a majestic city view from domed floor-to-ceiling glass windows. The sky was the limit for cocktails and inventive seafood dishes, but there was nothing like the old-world dining we would relish the following day. At the legendary Cafe Pushkin, a former nobleman’s house, we were served sumptuous Russian staples like beef stroganoff and baked sturgeon, charmed by servers in a space that can be considered part-restaurant, part-relic. Sitting in a library with towering shelves and antique woodwork, it would have been a mistake not to enjoy such traditional fare, not to mention a generous sampling of caviar that included prized sturgeon and beluga variants. On the side, creamy, delicate blinis were delicious on their own.
