Issue #28/53, December 3 - 16, 1998  

Regular eXile readers, if any remain, may recall a Turkish restaurant by the name of Amalteya located not far from Plekhanov Institute of Economics. U Yeliseyeva, a nightclub just off Pushkinskaya ploshchad and owned by the same company, first opened its doors a few months back. As the country has been undergoing some autumn settling, the two establishments in question have endured some mild shocks of their own as a result of a management shake-up. Now with a new, revamped name (the rather more cosmopolitan-sounding Mandarin) and a talented new head chef (actually, the same gifted fellow who used to run the kitchen across town at Amalteya), the nightclub is finally ready for its official opening. Look to future Johnny Chen columns to find out if the horde of working girls currently frequenting the place in the evenings eventually gives way to a more diverse, cheapskate-eXhole-friendly crowd. In the meantime, I'm going to take a look at the stomach-oriented side of Mandarin.

Speaking of stomachs, the one absolute must-try item on the menu is the so-called Pluck's soup (50R), a rousing entrails-based hangover cure (not unlike Georgian hashi) that comes with two luscious sauces--one garlicky, one spicy pepper--guaranteed to clear your sinuses and make you forget instantly about those two bottles of bourbon you managed to suck down the previous night. And even if you're not hung over, you simply cannot go wrong with this soup. In fact, there seems little reason to even consider the more expensive cream of green onion soup (60R) or sturgeon solyanka (90R).

The salads and appetizers are very similar to those at Amalteya--various meat and vegetable preparations, some wonderfully spicy and others more on the bland side. Singly they go for 60-80R, but unless you have one in particular you adore, the various assortments (110-120R; 205R for seafood) are the way to go. If you insist on choosing just one, either of the eggplants is always a good bet.

We were generally complying with our server's suggestions, and next up was the liver course. You have your choice of either Turkish or Albanian style (100R each). I'm still unclear as to what difference there is, if any, between the two. If you're like me you'll just make your pick based on geopolitical considerations. Another all-star selection (perhaps second only to the stomach soup) is the Turkish pizza--Lahmadsion (their spelling, not mine). Small and large versions cost 40 and 60R, respectively. If you've ever attempted to make pizza on thin Georgian lavash and been disappointed with the results, this cavalcade of flavors will give you a taste of what you were shooting for.

Some of us were now beginning to believe (or at least hope) that the meal was over, but there was plenty more meat to come. The fleshy homestretch began with a simple but tender chicken kebab (175R). As usual by this point in a meal, it was a good deal easier to tackle the crisp grilled vegetables than to make any kind of dent in the meat products. Which meant that we were put to shame by the Mandarin meat assortment (250R) that wrapped things up. The lamb portion of this was especially fine, encouraging all but one of us to put away more than is probably healthy. At any rate, we're all still very much alive. Among the curiously named dishes that qualified for my tune-in-next-time list are the mountain's breeze fried mutton (180R) and God's food trout (200R). I know it's pretty moronic to make your selections based on an eccentric title just about anywhere, let alone in Moscow, but I just never seem to learn.

Dessert, if you can fit it, consists of those diabetic nightmares that are Turkish sweets (85-90R) and a small handful of vaguely European concoctions. The coffee is doable, the draft beer (surprise, surprise) is Efes pilsner, and the house wine has some genuine character. The interior is unfinished (some kind of theme-oriented citrus-y decorations are promised), but something tells me that Mandarin's interior is not going to get a whole lot less spartan in the coming months. Call it instinct. Anyway, if you can ignore the occasionally dour surroundings and the often hideous pop music providing the "entertainment," you're in for quite a meal. Just make sure you order that soup--I'll be keeping tabs on you.