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.

Perhaps, each of us has a fairy-tale image of a perfect restaurant in mind, of a classical one, such a 101% restaurant. It was input inside our brains back when we hadn’t even been to a restaurant yet or did visit, but with parents in our early childhood; later on this idea got reinforced through watching movies or reading books/flipping through magazines.

It’s all very vintage and wooden inside, with crystal lanterns in the form of may-lilies. Waiters wear 3 piece suits; the visitors are mature and look like Jules Verne. The place sparkles with crystal glass and big patterned silver forks. They serve some mad tasty cozy dishes with game meat (which as we know, though have never had, should be eaten with one’s hands). By default, it’s located on a silent street of a spy city with pointed roofs a la Budapest. Oh yeah, I almost forgot, the furniture is strictly modern or jugend-style, and the name of the place is written on the windows in the art-deco font, upon an azure opaque stripe.

Can you imagine it?

And I guess you’ve even come across one of them, huh? They usually recommend you such a place at the reception of a 5L hotel.

Then, for sure, you know the end of this tale: there isn’t like absolutely fucking nothing tasty about it. Fucking hell. The princess turned into a pumpkin.

When they told us about this place (because the Anton man got confused with the dates and booked a fancy Michelin restaurant “for tomorrow” (which afterwards turned out to be some horrible trash)):

“Klasszikus, klasszikus! Hungarian tradicionális klasszikus, and many/many foie gras!”

… I immediately got nerves: the hotel had four fancy restaurants, two of which were dedicated to foie gras (so it was). But when I asked where we should go, the girl straight away said:

“To Tigris. Go to Tigris.”

It was sort of weird.

Ok, let’s go then.

Further, everything was as I described above, including waiters aged 40+ and elderly people of luxury lifestyle, whom you envy for their old age and who drink in excitedly while having dishes with boar and telling each other good stories.

Everything’s exclusively local starting from mineral water up to cheese. And all of it is really good.

There’s a separate menu for foie gras: 5 cold and 3 hot items.

And some incredible Hungarian wines.

The board has 8 specialties of the day.

There’s various game meat including boar, which doesn’t come like some ragout mash, but just like proper meat.

Everything’s perfect, and there is no point in describing the food: it’s made in such a way that finding any fault with it is nearly impossible.

Next, you order something else, but rather than a dessert you get a set of extremely-tasty complicated cold foie gras (€12) and let it all down with ice cold sweet riesling, which has some metallic notes, and keep silent, staring at each other for quite a while.

And then you also get a dessert made of chestnut cream with orange sorbet.

It was one of my best nights ever. But make sure right people come along: you’ll have to stay there for a long time and you’ll be drunk.

PS: Alright, and no one’s trying to fuck you over there(!) – the sommelier girl almost burst into tears: two times in a row she had an expensive item (each time different) spoiled because of the cork’s smell. She replaced the bottles without even tasting the wines.

Oh yeah, I know this common superstition: if you haven’t been to the North, then you haven’t had Thai food (c).

> repeat until 2 = 3.

This is a binary variable: it’s either true or false.

It’s true, guys, really true.

The countryside isn’t trashy. There’s bamboo/pomelo/avocado and no cheesy sea, dew in the morning and ice cold pools in the mountains. The streets aren’t packed with whores. Nope, you won’t be able to get a boy with license for 2000 Baht. Drugs are absolutely absent.

So what the fuck would you even do there, eh?!

Inhale.

Wait, and then exhale.

It’s terrific, extremely delicious. And it’s complicated.

With all due respect, in general, Thai food is either sweet or hot. In this case, it isn’t so: rather it’s more close to Cambodian cuisine – multilayered, even multilevel mixtures of spices, tastes and smells.

All the familiar dishes are reinvented, endowed with a legion of spices, mixed up, boiled and lightly stroked along the edges with a final note. It’s like visiting an opera (and a good one).

And it all keeps on playing, and rolling over your palate, and it’s still too early to sleep, but already dark, and you’re one on one with the hyper-taste. Only some night bird, unknown, restless and omnipresent like God, is yelling as usual:

«Kiiiirri-ll? Kiril-kiril-kirl, kiiir-ril!» reminding me of my ex-boyfriend:

“Oh, I was lost in thoughts, I’m sorry. No, your desserts aren’t tasty: crab cake and chicken green curry, are those good for dessert?”

“Certainly.”

“Ok then.”

These places are incredible, sort of electric. You cannot but come back.

Trust me.

Although we weren’t completely over lunch, it had fallen deeply enough into our stomachs for us to be ready to catch up on something else. Besides, it was already dinnertime. So, we decided to drop by. For sort of a very light meal (almost weightless in our imagination, oh yeah). SPA and a massage were loosely looming ahead, so I really wanted to feel that mythical feeling of “getting-up-from-the-table-with-a-slight-sense-of-hunger”, does someone even know of such a feeling?)

We come in. They ask us to take off our shoes. The audience consists of very spiritual/vegan bigots (spirulina greetings!). What adds to the story is the presence of yoga and vegan/cooking master classers right at the establishment.

On the left, there’s a refrigerator with jars and bottles, which all have paper labels and are signed almost manually. Those are some transparent (or not) liquids of all colors, roots and seaweed… Just like a drugstore of a witch. I wouldn’t be surprised to stumble upon a bat’s wing or a rat’s tail there… sorry, actually, no… this is a raw vegan place…

On the right, there’s another shining refrigerator with a huge number of various superfood bowls (Krishna-like candies) of dried fruits, nuts, spirulina, poppy seeds, etc. Gluten-free brownies, cheesecakes, fruitcakes (with coconut sugar or sugar free with stevia) are also in abundance.

Somewhere deep inside there’s a tonic bar. I had little time for a detailed study (one can’t be late for the massage), but, as I understood, they have the same menu there, though you can see the ingredients closer and perhaps choose something just for you.

Overall, the impressions are good, the vibes are positive. «This is definitely where I parked my car» (c).

We take a seat. We order: instead of regular water, we get tonic/elixir based on cordyceps, reishi (these are mushrooms/superfood, the strongest adaptogen, detox and rejuvenation stuff for your body) and turmeric (a superb spice that has to do with curcuma, does a multitask job, and in ancient India used to substitute the entire pharmacology industry). Then: a soup, which is a kind of miso soup, but raw, fermented and with probiotics. A raw Mexican lasagna with beetroot, pineapple, spinach, nut cheese and avocado; an assorted sol bowl based on zucchini spaghetti, a heap of leaves, nori, cashew pasta and various other whims like raw spirulina and coconut chutney. I also had an anti-age super potion made of goji and reishi with spices, raw chocolate and nut milk. It turned out that they serve it with a scoop of coconut sorbet (a recall for coffee glace), so in the end even the dessert did actually take place.

Everything was very tasty/very light. And despite the fact that I crawled away from the table completely without appetite (damn it) once again, the sense of fullness involved comfort and satisfaction.

It’s a pity that I had to fly away, and didn’t have chance to try the rest of the menu during this round… But! I’ll be back, and I’ll really be back)))) with a detailed inspection! In order to eliminate the “slight uncertainty”. Probably, this is exactly that desired and elusive feeling…

P.S: We took away some cakes for breakfast before the plane. Carrot cake, raw blueberry cheesecake with stevia and some candies – just to make sure it would be enough. A day without sweets is a lost day))

P. P. S: We tried it. Everything is delicious, cool, and extremely nourishing. My respect to the carrot cake. It’s with dates, nuts and coconut glazing. I’m keeping the recipe.

It’s always a very simple recipe, each year, we are up for Mallorca … And we go to Palma. We leave the car at the parking lot, which is close to the central church and after a meditative glance at the schooners of the central altar, given as a present to the city by the great Gaudi (whilst listening to the «Hallelujah to Love» from Rybnikov’s «Juno and Avos» playing in my head for no reason). With a traditional candle I indecipherable mumble (because I do not remember prayers, and HE doesn’t understand Russian here, right?), we leave for the famous Placa de la Reina.

The house number 5 is the shelter of my gastronomy world’s first one — temperate – Forn projects.

Simple. For the sake of food. Some style. Like everything in Palma in general in this area, reminiscent of Born in Barcelona or Bio Alto in Lisbon. Yet, at the entrance there is a man. He is in a strict black shirt and with a tablet in his hands. You try right and he gets to the right. You try left and again he gets to the left. After losing at the checkers at the entrance, you raise your eyes. He smiles. There are many tourists – he is alone. Alright, then.

“Reserve?” he says it in a way that it would become crystal clear even for a fool.

“Non,” we do give up.

It’s been years in a row we are eating at OMBU, yet we can’t get it in our heads. I- dio-ts. Maybe, it’s because we are from the north. OK, we have to make that pity eyes. Do ask. It’s worth it.

The man gives up: “Ok, give me an hour.”

And you say: “No let’s make it two.”

You leave your phone number and you go round the corner. The second from the chain is right there. KOA – Tikka, a bar with a panasian grill and funny snacks. Of course, there is the main menu too. But you do need a drink before the dinner. You will be seated. Yet, somewhere far away and uncomfortably. Yet, you will get a table (clever ones would make a reservation in advance of course). We will sit where we did get a place. Because it’s not only about the atmosphere. It is beautiful in KOA, but the reason is the food.

Like all maniacs, we have the scheme in our heads. Take tacos with pork, traditions and diet can wait. Beef Carpaccio with foie gras and seviche. And nothing more, otherwise your evening won’t be too long. And they are waiting for you for the dinner at OMBU. Let it all down with cocktails more of cassia or gin – they are all delicious and do look bizarre. Then you go forward.

It’s time to walk around. All of the area is magnificent – La Lonja: a network of ancient streets all filled with bars and rerstaurants in a single step. And I must say – they are all here as one – beautiful. Yet the best one is ours.

So, on a way you have to pop in to a third restaurant – more heavy, yet it’s not less tasty by any means – Forn, that’s the one. Here you just book a table for tomorrow.

Cocktails make you smarter and you start thinking about tomorrow, right? And tomorrow you will go to the alcoholic’s disneyland to drink your cocktails – the house of the antiqs and a rare eccentric man who did give the house and his collection away to this bar. I guess he doesn’t care about a thing anymore. Well, it’s directly opposite.

In Forn you should surely take strawberry gazpacho with scarlet shrimps tartar and sea urchins, a pigeaon with pear puree and foie gras, lobster carpaccio with salt, with hibiscus and with lemon pesto. As for the main, skipping the steak from the kangaroo (hell knows why they have it here), you should take classic black angus or paunch of a black pig, or langoustine with parmesan cream.

In Forn surely take gazpacho strawberry with tartar from scarlet shrimps and sea urchins, a pigeon with pear puree and foie gras, carpaccio of lobster with salt with hibiscus and lemon pesto. And on the hot, avoiding the steak from the kangaroo (hell knows why he was here), take the classic black angus or paunch of a black pig, or langoustine with a cream of parmesan. And again let it all down with any wine from the menu and here it is – happiness.

STOP. It’s tomorrow! Didn‘t you forget the you did not have a dinner yet today? The responsible guy from OMBU will remind you about that.

Everything here is in micro-feeds. Boldly each of you should take 5-6 to start. Even the main ones are in half-portions. OMBU was inspired by Peruvian tiger milk and Japanese ponzu and wakame, even fired eggs, which must be eaten with its potato foam and truffles. The mystery of simplicity will unfold in a sobrassado on potata brava foam, and in croissants with bovine tails, and in truffle parmentier. Finish your cannelloni with lamb, onion sauce and apricot puree, and here you are – you need a walk again.

Wander from bar to bar – you can drink any wine and everywhere in Mallorca. Because it is a paradise for irresponsible wine. It’s cheap and good quality. Well, that’s enough for you today. It’s time to go home. To the touristy Santa Ponsa or to quiet bays of Andraix with Cala Fornells.

Till tomorrow. Yet you do know that tomorrow isn’t going to be any worse!

Thank you Nyusha, Motya and Vera, that you helped me to handle it all on my feet.

It’s more than OK for a human being (more or less sophisticated one) to like to go to the best of the best restaurants just for THAT ONE dish. Or the dessert…Or…And it’s more than OK to go to a bar just for one cocktail. The one you love so much, the one you were craving for so long. Or just for a leaf of salad with a drop of sauce. There is a place in Las Vegas… Yet, let’s not get too sentimental.

I heard you can go for a hostess too. What if the hostess has outstanding ones, yes? Well, and so on.

In an open kitchen at Daniel’s, Daniel Canzian who did work at Marchesino beforehand – the closest one to La Scala and the one which belongs to a master of modern Italian cuisine. No, not the Bottura but to Gualtiero Marchesi.

So you have to visit Daniel.

For a carpaccio of scampi like pizzaiolo – one!

For rolls of fish Dory from San Pietro with raw porcini – two!

For lemon risotto with some meat sauce (not the demi-glace one but jus de roti) and

liquorice. It is not something new, yet you just can’t say no to that at Daniel’s – three!

On top of these three masterpieces everything starts with amuse bouche. Warm disks of farinata (crepe of chickpea flour — typical food of the Ligurian Sea coast) with caramelised lemon pesto. Not to mention that even a one and a half years child was eating it. And those micro pittas with herring were wonderful.

And these guys, as they say, do bake they own bread. Very tasty bread!

These two airy buns.

And grissini.

Bread with olive oil.

And bread with bran, so soft-soft with a very thin-thin and crispy crust.

And two airy buns.

And a second glass of grissini before the dessert.

And two magnificent buns.

For to start you have to take champagne from Duval-Leroy Troisgros.

I am ashamed, but I was so carried away by bread and amuse bouche, that I did not pay attention what kind of champagne I had, as I didn’t pick one. And I did not pay, my husband did. There is only one Troisgros on the menu. And you will most likely stay with Troisgros to the very desserts.

Another option is to come alone and sit down behind the bar right in front of the open kitchen. I’ll do so next time. And there will be carpaccio of scampi such like pizzaiolo and a lemon risotto with liquorice and meat sauce, and Dori with porcini, if the right season of course. And Troisgros.

The interior: they say, it was specially chosen. An exceptional Italian designer particularly for contemporary / contemporanea. Well, yes. In the end, you are in Milan. In Milan all interiors are contemporary. To put it mildly, they are not so cozy, Cosi-cosi, cosy. Yet, here it must be so.