St Pete – the food, the drinks, the stories

It’s not about the food. It’s about the stories experienced around the food. The stories shared around the food.

Ok, I lie. It is also about the food. But also about the stories.

So now, experiences, stories and thoughts linked to food or drink establishments during my time in St P.

• Georgian food.

When one person recommends you eat Georgian food in St Pete, it’s a bit random. After two completely unrelated people recommend you eat Georgian food in St Pete, it is intriguing.

So, first I had a cheese and spinach hatsapuri near my first accommodation at Primorskaya metro. It was delish, the customer service not so much.

On my last evening I had more hatsapuri and them famous hinkali (one which ended up being catapulted into my open bag on the floor, twas quite entertaining as we were trying to locate it). My friends taught me the right way to eat the hinkali – pick it up by the stem, bite into it, suck out its juices, eat the rest of it, leave the stem. Tbh I was a bit disappointed about the non-social-acceptation of eating the stem, which was just chewy dough.

• Pilmeni.

Hinkali, but Russian style, a bit smaller.

• Solo-travellers, what do you do when you have no one to eat with but don’t fancy staring at an empty chair in front of you? Visit the ‘Russian Pub’ on Nevski (where I ate them pilmeni), where some tables have a MIRROR on the opposite side of the table. You needn’t feel lonely ever again, hurrah! Who needs company when you can watch yourself eat? (Or, as Hanna said later, “at least you’re eating in the best company” 😉 )

Or at least, you can keep yourself entertained. And the waiters may feel sorry enough for you that they finally teach you the difference between the words счет (bill) and щетка (brush).

• Visit your old local shop and admire its produce.

And buy dragon fruit.

• Eat dragon fruit.

Ok, sure, 250 rubles for a dragon fruit at a supermarket isn’t exactly cheap (about 3½ euros), but it is half the price of the same fruit in Finland. In Finland the only place you can find dragon fruit is in the exotic-posh-fruits aisle in well-stocked supermarkets, with many-a-dragonfruit already price-tagged due to people having second thoughts after finding out the hefty price of a single specimen. But in St Pete, the situation is more (dragon) fruitful.

And, best of all, I came across a XINH TO stall which Vietnamese fans will recognise as the word for SMOOTHIE, and the first fruit I saw in their baskets was my beloved DRAGON FRUIT so I went up to buy a драгон шейк (“dragon shake”) and dear goodness twas it DIVINE, two different colours, mixed with condensed milk. * saliva dropping on keyboard *

• 

• The abovementioned moment of bliss happened at the new go-to place – the top floor of the Galeriya shopping centre (near Ploshad Vostannya metro) upon which one can find the brand new New Food Market (called Eat Market). There was food from all kinds of different countries (except, perhaps, Russia), exotic fruits and cakes, donuts, eclairs, and funky-sounding drinks.

Later on I had a lovely catch-up there with my friend Jake, where we debated what mystery fish this лосось was (salmon) and enjoyed both Philadelphia and California and they were stunning, some of the best sushi I’ve had outside of the Japanese conveyor belt experiences.

• On the second to top floor of the Galeriya shopping centre there is also a food court, where we had BLINCHIKI. Like blinis, pancakes/crepes, but little versions. Adorabs and some of the best stuff I’d eaten.

• Israeli food, too, is good in St Petersburg. Yums. We were very international.

• Visit the bar called биргик (“BIRGIK.”) Beer geek, geddit? I didn’t. Anyways, it’s this tiny place packed full of beers where you walk up to the bartender, tell them what kind of beer you like, and they find you your perfect beer. Our convo went like this:

me: “er, well, a stout?”

she: “strong?”

me: “er, medium”

she: “you like a bit sweet?”

me: “er, yes please”

So I ended up with a chocolatey ice creamey stout, and it was one of the best things EVER.

The place had a few tables but we sat on the large steps on one side, along with cushions and cuddly toys.

BIRGIK is moving soon, so unfortunately I cannot advise you to its location, but if you come across it, do pop in. It most definitely was not a place I would wander in alone or even with a fellow tourist, but this is one of the many perks of having locals taking you to their favourite places. 🙂 Thanks Zoe and Stacey!

• Never think too little of yourself, especially when drinking hot chocolate. After my long walk down the Neva embankments I, as always, discovered within myself a deep desire to pee. So I checked my offline maps for nearby cafes, and turned out Nevski was just a twenty-minute walk away. I remembered having seen this cool-looking place called the ‘Literary café’ on previous escapades, so I speed-walked down Nevski till I got to it.

So, I imagined the Literary Café to be a cozy book café, like Café Livres in Lille or Steep Street in Folkestone. I turned out to be wrong, as I stepped in and I was greeted by a huge stuffed bear wearing a Christmas hat and holding a silver plate with coins on it, swiftly followed by a doorman, or cloakman, or coatman, whatever he’s called. A smart man in a suit.

Wow, Literary Café seemed to be Luxury Restaurant of Time Travel for Mendel and Tshaikovsky and Ancient Viennese Rich People. My brain was on full-on out-of-comfort-zone-alert, but my bladder was on full-on proximity-to-toilet-noted alert so I smiled at the doorman and tried to hold my cool – tho I’m dressed as a teenage tramp (well okay, I exaggerate), I AM actually a respectable adult woman who fully well knows what level of establishment she’s entered and fully INTENTIONALLY chosen… And I played my cool as my earphones, then scarf fell to the floor as I tried to sort myself out for cloakroom dude – he waited patiently and gestured politely to the chair nearby as a recommendation of a better location for my stuff than the floor.

Once I’d managed to get my outdoor stuff to the cloakman, I climbed the steps to find myself in the restaurant area. The poshly dressed waiters were efficient and unimpressed with my order of a single hot chocolate (“nothing else?”), my request for a the toilet (“downstairs”) and the wifi (“unfortunately, no”). (I guess Mendel and pals needed no wifi, so why would I.)

The hot choc came with a shot of water. It kept acquiring a skin (the hot choc, not the water), like custard. Is skin on hot stuff a sign of poshness?

Later I learnt that Russian hot choc is a pudding kind you eat with a spoon, whereas if you want a milky, drinkable version, opt for COCOA.

I also started feeling hungry and wondered how they’d react if I started eating the rest of earlier’s hatsapuri in their café. (Conclusion: Probably not very happily.)

Deep thoughts: I realised that when there is no way you can kid people that you belong in a certain establishment or group, you feel you have more confidence to nearly-cockily BS your way thru – you’ll fail anyways, so who cares. Whereas when you have a chance of getting away with appearing to “belong” somewhere, you more easily spend (unnecessary?) effort pretending. Any thoughts on this?

Anyways, downed that shot in one. Boom, Mendel, et maintenant à vous.

• Next hot chocolate I had was pretty divine tho. The puddingy version BUT with cream and marshmallows, in a lovely café, far closer to my poshness standards, near Vasileostrovskaya metro station which also served little free samples of all their cakes on sticks. Let’s say this, I made sure I had many an excuse to return to the bar.

• Dance to t.A.T.u

On my last night I was invited to a club called Akakao. It was dingy and underground-vibed, where my first impression was a man with a tattooed face telling me off for trying to waltz in without paying the entrance fee. But once I’d got in, the first song I heard them play on the dancefloor was NAS NE DOGONIAT by t.A.T.u which, well, there is NO OTHER SONG in the world which should be playing as the first song in my first ever Russian club. I was ecstatic. And for the first time in MONTHS I was dancing and for you who’ve known about my recent few months, let me tell you, IT WAS AMAZING.

• Couchsurfing

I haven’t got into the couchsurfing community in Helsinki, but I heard it was good in St Pete. The night ended in a karaoke bar called Poison with a bunch of new friends who I quickly felt I’d known for far longer than a few hours. A random international group, my fave.

• For the COZIEST café, visit Cчастье.

This cafe, Schyastye, translates as ‘Happiness’, and is the one on Rubinshteina street (in St Pete they’re in three different locations). I was taken there by Zoe and Stacey, and it was THE PERFECT café, with divine cocoa (not hot choc), scrummy huge chocolates, and the specialest of all: dot-to-dot placemats! What a GREAT idea in my humble opinion, a fun little activity to do in the midst of casual convo and hot choc slurps.

• For a more hipster vibe, visit Divan.

All I can say about the location is that it’s near the restaurant called TEPLO. It’s a place where my friend Katya and I sat at the bar and ate hummus and pasta while sipping from wine glasses which were placed on coasters which were adorned with cows – artwork by an obscure Finnish artist (yes, Finnish!). The loo was behind a slidey door with a flamingo on it, and we spoke lots of Russian. It’s places like these, again, that one would never venture in without local knowledge.

• And last but not least, here is a random array of pics from bakeries I visited and bakery produce I admired/consumed.

YUM YUM.

Tis all for now me lovelies!

Emzy

xxx