Samovar Cafe: The Adventure of a Lifetime
Nikolaevsk wasn't so much a town as it was a bunch of random small farms. There was no main road or center of town, and Kris was starting to seriously question my need to visit there. But I'd read about a place called Samovar Cafe, run by a woman named Nina. Lonely Planet promised a visit to her little cafe would serve as an introduction to the mysterious world of this little Russian community. We followed spray-painted signs pointing the way to the cafe, passing a girl wearing a traditional Russian outfit on our way there.
I didn't know what to think when we finally arrived at this totally ramshackle place, complete with a parking lot filled with weeds and used tires. Kris was, shall we say...displeased:
The "cafe" looked totally abandoned. We peered through the front windows into a cluttered, dirty room filled with overturned furniture. We opened the door and meandered around, not sure what to do. Then we noticed a second door and knocked. We were completely unprepared for what followed as THIS woman burst out of the door, revealing a tiny room in the back:
Her name was Nina, and she was the most cheerful bossy woman I have ever met. This tiny room of hers was jam-packed with Russian tchotchkes, from floor to ceiling. There were multi-colored Matryoshka dolls, golden crowns, random dishes and galore. Saya was completely overcome with joyful awe as she tried to take it all in. But before we could even process what was happening, Nina was ordering us around and dressing us in traditional Russian garb. The conversation went something like this:
Nina (in a very thick Russian accent, speaking loudly and urgently): Here. You put on skirt. Here is shawl. You put on now.
Me: Like this?
Nina: NO. Cover head and shoulders. Krreeees. What kind of rope you want for outfit?
Kris: Um, I don't care...why don't you pick one for me?
Nina: No, you pick. You want blue?
Kris: Sure, blue sounds good.
Nina: NO. You take RED.
Kris: Ummm, ok....
In no time at all, we were posing for pictures like this:
All of this was extremely rushed, and in her next breath she was ordering us to take our seats at the bar in front of the cafe's tiny kitchen. She promptly presented us with our fixed price menu (as I recall, $60 per person) and then handed us each a black lacquered spoon with gold paint: "Here are spoons. $25 each. For you to eat. You can take home." We were like...hmmmm...ok...so really this is $85 per person, except we get some spoons? We nodded ok...what else were we going to do?
Nina got busy in the kitchen preparing our first course. I ventured a timid question: "So Nina...how long have you lived in Nikolaevsk?" Nina's response? "No talking. Please read rules." I looked over the crowded table and noticed a laminated sheet of paper explaining something about how it's rude to speak to Nina when her back is turned to her or something.
She plunked down our first course (seriously, the worst borscht ever, filled with dill) which I managed to choke down using my $25 spoon.
We ate a few more courses involving some sandpaper-like pieroshkies and other Russian foods, followed by frozen creampuffs and Samovar tea. For the most part, the food was disgusting but we were just totally enthralled with Nina's insane and boisterous personality. Seriously, Nina was completely over the top:
Apparently Nina actually has a website for her Cafe. I encourage you to read it for a good laugh and to get some sense of this woman's personality.
We were completely unable to control Saya at any point during this dinner. She was so fascinated by all the things in the little store...and you betcha Nina wanted us to buy everything Saya touched. At one point she had us on the hook for a gigantic $400 Russian nesting doll and she pushed on and on about how it was naturally dried for like three months, yadda yadda yadda. We were desperate to leave! We left the Cafe carrying loads of leftover food, styrofoam cups filled with Samovar tea, various toys we were forced to buy, the wooden lacquer spoons and a giant bushel of dried herbs used to brew tea.
Blinking in the still sunny outdoors, we looked at each other and thought, "what the heck just happened?!?!" And laughed all the way to Homer. It was the most hilarious, bizarre experience of our entire trip. Saya still remembers all of it, and whispers "Nina!" reverently whenever she sees a Matryoshka doll.
I didn't know what to think when we finally arrived at this totally ramshackle place, complete with a parking lot filled with weeds and used tires. Kris was, shall we say...displeased:
The "cafe" looked totally abandoned. We peered through the front windows into a cluttered, dirty room filled with overturned furniture. We opened the door and meandered around, not sure what to do. Then we noticed a second door and knocked. We were completely unprepared for what followed as THIS woman burst out of the door, revealing a tiny room in the back:
Her name was Nina, and she was the most cheerful bossy woman I have ever met. This tiny room of hers was jam-packed with Russian tchotchkes, from floor to ceiling. There were multi-colored Matryoshka dolls, golden crowns, random dishes and galore. Saya was completely overcome with joyful awe as she tried to take it all in. But before we could even process what was happening, Nina was ordering us around and dressing us in traditional Russian garb. The conversation went something like this:
Nina (in a very thick Russian accent, speaking loudly and urgently): Here. You put on skirt. Here is shawl. You put on now.
Me: Like this?
Nina: NO. Cover head and shoulders. Krreeees. What kind of rope you want for outfit?
Kris: Um, I don't care...why don't you pick one for me?
Nina: No, you pick. You want blue?
Kris: Sure, blue sounds good.
Nina: NO. You take RED.
Kris: Ummm, ok....
In no time at all, we were posing for pictures like this:
All of this was extremely rushed, and in her next breath she was ordering us to take our seats at the bar in front of the cafe's tiny kitchen. She promptly presented us with our fixed price menu (as I recall, $60 per person) and then handed us each a black lacquered spoon with gold paint: "Here are spoons. $25 each. For you to eat. You can take home." We were like...hmmmm...ok...so really this is $85 per person, except we get some spoons? We nodded ok...what else were we going to do?
Nina got busy in the kitchen preparing our first course. I ventured a timid question: "So Nina...how long have you lived in Nikolaevsk?" Nina's response? "No talking. Please read rules." I looked over the crowded table and noticed a laminated sheet of paper explaining something about how it's rude to speak to Nina when her back is turned to her or something.
She plunked down our first course (seriously, the worst borscht ever, filled with dill) which I managed to choke down using my $25 spoon.
We ate a few more courses involving some sandpaper-like pieroshkies and other Russian foods, followed by frozen creampuffs and Samovar tea. For the most part, the food was disgusting but we were just totally enthralled with Nina's insane and boisterous personality. Seriously, Nina was completely over the top:
Apparently Nina actually has a website for her Cafe. I encourage you to read it for a good laugh and to get some sense of this woman's personality.
We were completely unable to control Saya at any point during this dinner. She was so fascinated by all the things in the little store...and you betcha Nina wanted us to buy everything Saya touched. At one point she had us on the hook for a gigantic $400 Russian nesting doll and she pushed on and on about how it was naturally dried for like three months, yadda yadda yadda. We were desperate to leave! We left the Cafe carrying loads of leftover food, styrofoam cups filled with Samovar tea, various toys we were forced to buy, the wooden lacquer spoons and a giant bushel of dried herbs used to brew tea.
Blinking in the still sunny outdoors, we looked at each other and thought, "what the heck just happened?!?!" And laughed all the way to Homer. It was the most hilarious, bizarre experience of our entire trip. Saya still remembers all of it, and whispers "Nina!" reverently whenever she sees a Matryoshka doll.
This is the greatest thing I've ever heard. And the pictures are to DIE for. Glad you had such a good time -- hope Nina didn't fleece you for too much ;)
Posted by
Nicole |
August 11, 2010 at 4:31 PM
Wow. Looks like Maryn and I have a new family portrait of you guys for our wall!
Posted by
Brian |
August 11, 2010 at 8:37 PM
Ummm I'm pretty sure that the photo of you three at the table is going to have to be your holiday card. If not, I will literally make prints of it and send it out to everyone you know myself.
Posted by
Maryn |
August 11, 2010 at 9:01 PM
I pissed myself. There you go - I laughed so hard at the pictures, that I let lose. Done. Still dying of laughter. ROFL doesn't even come close. I second Maryn's suggestion. Furthermore, I'm seriously considering making that picture OUR Christmas card b/c it's so unabashidly awesome.
Posted by
Mishy |
August 11, 2010 at 10:16 PM