Like any other tourist city (Venice, Rome, Paris), Riga has its own laws. The only difference is that as the city is small, so are the laws.

The tourists always are like the herd in NPC games: they stick to the fixed routes of the main attractions. No straying from the path, as if it was a levitating path in Bradbury’s “A Sound of Thunder”. Seems that they’re afraid to step off even slightly because it’d spoil the future.

But, actually, you can always move three streets away and easily find yourself alone in the light of the day, even though in 150 meters there’s Tokyo metro at peak hour.

The tourist is stupid, greedy and incurious.

So to hell with him! It’s even better for us! We just have to step off the track.

All good Riga restaurants are either hidden or “far away” (for locals it’s 800m – 1km from the central point of the city).

The same is with this restaurant. It’s sealed in a side street, which runs towards the quay. The place is packed only several times a year when there’re fireworks.

“I’d like some Campari, please…”

“Can’t help you. We’re not into such drinks in here…”

This dialogue took place on the fly, right at the entrance with a waiter with a straight back and Nordic habits. And I didn’t feel offended. It sounded so very naturally that this rigidity could easily go for him being “lost in translation”. Besides, at once the guy offered us some tart liquor made of black chokeberry. It came in a beautiful bottle with thick glass bottom.

This is, so to speak, a reinvented Latvian style, the brightest side of which is presented to you. Cunning, tricky servings, which do not actually distract from food.

Don’t expect anything superb, but expect just a tasty, partly strong, lunch.

A beautiful one. On a beautiful street.

Lots of beetroot and rabarber. Some river fish. Extremely light-salted cucumbers (they call them “the one day ones”) with a just mere hint of being put into a barrel, served with pike perch. The partridge’s clawed paw says “hello” right from your plate. Its skin is crunchy. Strangely enough, its meat is juicy, textured and tender. Orange fish soup, which is inevitable everywhere in Latvia. Beetroot again.

Good tartare of local beef. In general, local beef is fucking awesome.

Everything’s at a slow pace and has a Northern taste.

A good place. It’s a pity we didn’t make it to the desserts.

PS: here comes the check for four people.