You get there from the street or through the service entrance of Corinthia Hotel – and you’re right away inside the “bistro”: there’s only one hall, which doesn’t look classy. During the day it’s a bit annoying, as you get the feeling that this used to be an expensive posh restaurant which is now simplified. Though at night it’s drowning in orange spotlight, which makes it look “sweet”. Overall, the design isn’t impressive at all and that’s for the better – it’s perfect to scare off jerks with Rolexes that hang out at the neighboring fancy entrance.

However, you don’t want to come here at night – it’s packed. It’s much easier to get into some local Michelin restaurant (but you shouldn’t go there unless you’re after a dinner in a country style trashy place with pretensions and, most importantly, in the company of extremely mediocre yet expensive food).

This place’s skillfully pretending to be simple: just some little café. There’s a slate board. Food’s expressly simply plated, they’re sort of sneering at you as they serve something like foie gras in enamel dishes with burn marks or steaks on boards which have Ikea engraved on their end grains (seriously?!).

This all is no more than camouflage.

What’s awaiting you there is a real flavor jolt.

The details make it evident that they’re lying. It’s impossible not to pay attention to the fact that the place is full around lunchtime. Then you notice that, though the menu is only a double-page spread, there are 10-12 specialties of the day written on the board, and they’re there only for today, tomorrow half of them or even more will be different. People around aren’t simple at all. They’re good-looking and elaborately dressed. There’re some gastro bloggers with fur microphones, etc.

Starting from foie gras, which is creamy/sweet and with large chopped vegetables; passing through a soup, and then incredible beef tartare, which has got micro-explosions of nano-intersperses of cucumber, capers and onions, while being on its own slightly sticky and homogeneous; then also crunchy porcini with peaches – barely fried; and up to perfectly cooked meat and/or rabbit – “there is not a single disconnection” (c).

Besides, there’re windows and autumn behind them, and sun, and people wondering back and forth. All this creates a special mood. Meanwhile, things are starting to come together…

Oh yeah, something else: “the cheerful housewife did a really good job of the desserts”. Like, really it’s a success.

Do enjoy.

PS: You can ask for foie gras to go. They’ll give you a pack of 250 grams straightly from the kitchen. They’ll throw it in vacuum and here you go.