It is neither a restaurant, nor a place; it is a district in the suburbs of Porto.

There are several parallel streets filled with fish restaurants of the same format. They all have a huge grill outside equipped with an old man who executes lobsters/langoustes as he would execute Joan of Arc. He grills langoustes alive, other kinds of fish, mollusks and cephalopods posthumously, but without freezing them in a fish morgue.

You can watch the entire process and choose where to sit.

Although the places are more or less identical. It is all about the extremely fresh fish. You’re in the town that specializes in fishing, even the huge nets at the entrance in an art form speak about it. Very low prices, but it is essential not to let them over roast and over oil it.

That’s it ™.

Only the assortment may differ.

“How many species of shrimps? 4? Pffh”

“4 species, plus carabineros and these red monsters?”

“Have you already thrown the mole crickets away?”

“Only small scampis?”

“Are percebes already in season?”

“Oysters, just these ones? Oh, as well as these and those… good then, ok.”

There should be 7-9 types of fish, otherwise it isn’t stylish.

It takes about 25 minutes to get here from the center of Porto. Keep in mind that the menu might be only in Portuguese. As well, do keep in mind that you won’t be able to avoid overeating because of greediness. Just keep this all in mind.

Actually, this is it. No need to blab on and on. Just head there for your dinner.

PS: Oh yeah, and forget about the cheap Verdot Wine, ok? All kinds of things grow in the Douro Valley including fine Chardonnay.

Do enjoy!

«All right, gourmet. Let’s go to have some super sushi for decent money,» — says my friend Yury Basin. He’s recently become the director of Cheremushkinsky Market, which is under reconstruction.

We jumped into his car, squabbling at every opportunity without rhyme and reason. Just like good old friends. So we headed there.

The car slid off the freshness of Tverskoy Boulevard, rushed through Kalinisky cloaca and having flown by City highway, jumped out to the country.

«Where are we going?!” — I asked in shock, imagining local lake sushi by a car wash at a construction market, — “I’m not eating there!”

«You will!» — Yury grinned at me and winked.

Well, okay …

We stopped at Petrovsky market.

«I know you from time to time go to Seiji or to Mega. Now we will go to the same place but without an extra zero in the price.

Nickel and glass surfaces shone at the end of the mall. Extremely beautiful staff, under the leadership of the chief Artur, did everything as if it was the Tokyo market, — the Japanese robotics in flesh!!!

Sashimi on ice, with fragrant leaves of the Japanese nettle, were on such a high level, that it was breathtaking. The prices were equally half that quality.

Sushi rolls with seared ocean perch, with real Japanese eel, otoro, chutoro, akami, madai, shimesaba, kinmedai…  The Tokyo market surrounded us in a ring, carried far away from Novaya Riga with its settlements full of people who can’t yet recognize their happiness. Happiness, which starts the moment otoro touches your palate. When the real soy sauce is mixed with Sake and freshly grated wasabi stings your tongue.

At that moment the price question ceases to exist and it doesn’t matter any longer where you are

because you close your eyes and depart to Japan, to Tsukijishijō.

For the whole dinner.

Up to the last drop of Daiginjō-shu.

It’s hard for me to write about this place, and not because of its insignias and presence in the world’s top 20, which is the most trendy chart of the kind and which Rabbit does hit regularly.

The true reason is simple – this is my favorite restaurant in the city.

And I have to explain why.

To begin with, I take it for fucking FIVE restaurants in one.

№ 1 the set (let’s skip it – there’ll be a separate article on it), №2 it’s a veranda type, №3 it’s fancy, №4 just-came-to-have-some-tasty-food, and №5 raw seafood.

Let’s talk about the latter four.

The veranda type: It’s fairly “the best view of the city”. So you’re sitting there and you feel really relaxed, it’s sunset or nighttime, or even early in the morning, so you’re there after clubbing (they are nearly never closed!) and you’re glancing at it all, and you don’t really care about the food – you’re buying the mood, the unique atmosphere. The food’s still there: a salad with loquat (since they have a veranda arranged, it should be there) and some perfect guacamole, even too perfect, and you order plain guacamole, sunset/dawn, it does not matter. And things are suddenly getting much better between you and your vis-à-vis. So, this is what I mean by a proper veranda type restaurant.

Or if you’ve broken up. Well, nearly. You wear your best cloths, everything at once, it’s November, the weather’s so damn bad, inside your head there’s a terrible mess, and you’re on a complicated path – first, you go to the fifth floor, then up to the sixteenth, in the elevator; you’re so handsome today, with a chrysanthemum in the buttonhole.

The elevator door opens, you proceed to the left, “thank you/please/is anyone expecting you”?

“Hope so.”

To the second floor, upstairs, past everyone, to the left towards the fireplace – you’re doing the fancy model walk when approaching your vis-à-vis. You’re being late on purpose.

Moscow and the streams of night cars are running behind the windows, the fire is burning in the fireplace, the crystal in your hand is glistening, they serve you whelk beef stroganoff, and Mukhin [the chef] is also here with his new findings. And you feel a little uncomfortable (cause you’re, like, a couple, but still having some quarrel in the background – between the two of you). There are urchins and sea buckthorn sorbet, salt in crystals, and sea water, and the explosion in the mouth, and you both finally reached peace, like, a hundred seconds ago, and then you go back along the fancy hall, downstairs, and Moscow’s shining, and your taxi’s already waiting for you. So, this is what I mean by a fancy restaurant.

Or you drop by during the day and you know exactly what you need – okroshka, shrimps, briefly flame broiled, and some sweet green stuff (Baikal). Just a really cool business lunch. So, this is №4.

Or you’ve recently been travelling, a lot. And now you “need it all”: so that it be right from the aquarium, sure.

We aren’t into talking about our opponents. At least, we try to, but! – why aren’t langoustines, which cost a million rubles, tasty at other very respectable places – do they probably get too much stress, eh, while they’re travelling?

Certainly no stress in here.

Urchins are almost like in Tokyo, at Tsukiji, as well as shrimps and botanebi, crabs, scallops, shells/oysters.

Here and only here (for the present moment, at least) you can have all these: shrimps, urchins, crabs, scallops, etc., and they won’t be frozen and there’ll be no need to pay for them some crazy money. So, this is №5.

In my opinion, the complaints about Rabbit being overly expensive are way too exaggerated. Of course, when we’re not talking of caviar, live crabs or urchin caviar from Japan. But where can you find these at low prices?

Well, and the mood.

The mood can barely (not) be sold.

«You were happy and drunk» ™, and each time so in a new circle.

I’ve attached various pictures below, including those with seasonal stuff, so that you could get an idea of the scale and scope of the event.

Look them through. They’ll make your mouth water.

Alright, Mukhin is indeed my idol, together with Zarkov. Take it for an advertisement. I don’t give a fuck.

PS: Oh yeah, and there’s suddenly mad tasty «simple stuff». For example, teriyaki salmon, which they just fucking  grill. Of course, if morels are in season, be sure not to nibble your plate with risotto, as you might lose it.

«There will be a huge oak door. A handle and a bell. You will ring; they will see you on camera and open. Did you get it? Ring and they will open. Say — to Tony, Tony Da Greco.» The nuclear and explosive Marina Elizaryeva, who has lived everywhere in the world where there are millionaires and football players, rumbles as if a sewing machine, knocking down with her hands the passersby, and expanding herself into nocturnal Barcelona.

What? A private restaurant of a club type in Barcelona? What’s that supposed to mean? My God, is it that I have I a gift of finding myself in strange places?

And who wants this in a city, where 90% of all restaurant visitors are foreigners with feverish eyes into «Lonely Planet» or «Tripadvisor»?

No-no. Admittance upon reservation only. Membership isn’t necessary. They have places where foreigners are not wanted. For example, the FCB (Football Club of Barcelona) lounge or a VIP hall for special guests. Beyonce comes here once a year, as well as a prince of Saudi, a Prime Minister of a small but proud country, a media magnate on a diet and so on. It is impossible to list all the celebrity guests, friends and club members.

Nevertheless, everything in practice appeared to be not that scary, and in the end, we entered into the magnificent Balenciaga mansion (indeed, he had lived and created in here for years before Tony Da Greco and his wife turned it into a restaurant, naturally with classical Italian cuisine). It was around nine in the evening. Next to Paseo de Gracia, having turned into a quiet street.

Inside is the owner’s collection of masterpieces mixed up with good replicas of the same masterpieces. Anyhow, respect and credit for letting people sit close to the invaluable things. And this is the reason for the closed door.

Contrary to the expectations (I’m a generous person with regards to restaurants, but still alarmed about the expenses) the counter was more than moderate and it was facilitated by the fact that if you take a degustation set, afterwards you will hardly be able to leave on your own. It has six courses, including the pasta sorpresa, which is served to all guests and is the specialty of the house.

In short, the pasta is not a dish, here they force feed you with it, pouring on top high quality wine from vineyard bought out by Tony in Ribeiro.

Everything is the way it should be. Pasta fresca, tomatoes with garlic. Mozzarella is melting. Truffle, foie gras…

Tony does know, what the rich people eat and how to make happy those who are not that rich. This is the secret and the charm of this establishment, and not filthy arrogance as it might be expected. It is private. But it is open to everyone. Just don’t be afraid. Make a reservation.

Come and leave happily.

A bit longer and under the influence of Cava from the disheveled in all senses card (just 12 Euro for a bottle of wine, any type from Petrus to any of the dry ones) I would start to write slogans and odes for this place, but I better shut up now.

You yourself come to Barcelona and find Da Greco. And you will say — «I love it»!

And it will really be so!

Yes, yes, yes — a touristy place, but in this city “everything is messed up” (c). You won’t believe it, but here a touristy place can be tasty, friendly, and beautiful.

So, in the very center, in a crowd of tourists, you squeeze through a chain of “children on an excursion”, which are blocking you from the entrance to lunch, and you finally break in.

According to local standards the interior is quite restrained, without any golden crap. However, on the second floor it all starts galloping in a kind of “post-Jugend-luxury” with curved wood, steely steel and, in general, as it is common in here (in the city), everything is made of pressed money (c).

Fuck them. We’re going to order food.

It is May, nearly June, and white asparagus is “in bloom”.

Until I happened to be in Vienna in May-June, I was sure that white asparagus are those sluggish, tasteless, fibrous, phallic pieces in the dishes. Put there just for fun, for the price and for a special audience.

Not quite so!

White asparagus “from the bush” at this very short time of year is impressing: its texture, crispness, fragility, and very complicated, slightly sweet taste with heap and heaps of notes and aftertastes.

So, in this place the asparagus is like that. The good kind.

This is lunch. There aren’t many dishes, and no one wants to miss the asparagus. So we get it and of course Wiener Schnitzel.

How else?

It comes thin, same fragility as the asparagus, spread out on the plate with a fried crust, like a nano-wall. It’s accompanied by cranberry jam and leaf salad with mad tasty mustard and potatoes. That’s not on the diet, but what will you do?

«It was all MAGNIFICENT!» ™.

++ There was beer, which I don’t usually drink, but!

And that was lunch. For dinner, check it out for yourself, but something tells me, you won’t be disappointed.

Do enjoy!

Since my “childhood” I’ve been amazed by the quality of the Italian national fast food. In Russia it should be something like the Mikhalkov/Konchalovsky’s “Let’s eat at home”; however, in reality we have no choice but stick to the shitty “Yolki/Palki” and “Grably”.

Some time ago I used to think that this very place was a proper restaurant. Well, I couldn’t afford anything else, so I used to come there for a proper dinner.

Then I grew up and found out that this was no more than a chain of roadhouse eateries. Nevertheless, up to the moment I sometimes come here, even for a dinner.

The essential thing is to arrive there at the right time: lunch/dinner; at a different time the shelves are empty, or it might even be absolutely closed.

No, of course, there’re no revelations; yet there’re some huge portions of the freshest salad with excellent vegetables/leaves and tasty ham/cheese/tuna, and some decent pasta/ravioli/lasagna and, finally, some nice pieces of meat/fish/chicken roasted right in front of you, almost with no oil. Lemon and a lettuce leaf come with it. You’re welcome!

Everything’s seasonal. June? – they serve wild strawberry cake, WILD STRAWBERRY: fragolina di bosco fresca, ok? It’s not the strawberry from the jam. If it’s the season for watermelon, then they already have it, cut in cubes on ice. You won’t believe it, but you can actually stumble upon porcini in there and so on.

And this can be called fast food. You pay 30-40eur for two people at most.

The guys do the right thing, and children get to eat good food from their childhood (that’s why you see only tourists in McDonald’s in Italy), and we’re also fine during our long drive from sea to sea: you always know where to stop.