Be sure to come at sunset. No doubt. I know what I’m saying.

Don’t come in through the door. It isn’t cool. Sneak along the cliff above the sea, go along the narrowest edge past an empty nest in the pencil cases of the houses overlooking the precipice, and up to a small platform, which has no fences and is covered by plastic grass.

Suddenly, there’s OCEAN in front of you. Only the ropes, sagging lazily on the columns, and a ridiculous lifebuoy at the height of a 16-storey building separate you from it.

To my taste, this is a superb Portuguese thing, a hyper-concentrated broth, a potion, a stew, which consists of a stunning landscape and a restaurant loosely thrown over it, of almost entirely withdrawn luxury elements and some very simple design, of ridiculous prices and non-tortured apprehensible food and perfect fish/sea stuff that have obviously died for a reason.

All this grants you one essential thing (and this is the reason you’re heading here for) – memories. You can buy some hyper-memories™ here in advance and store them for the future use.

The menu is only a couple of pages and has this clay pot with a whole octopus for €13. The most expensive fish is €39.5 per kilo and the best wine’s 18.

Only grilled fish. But fuck what a grill! I moved the upper layer from turbot and from the very capricious sole fish on purpose, so that everything was visible.

Can you see it? That’s what I’m talking about.

Afterwards we were sitting there and slowly messing about with ice cream. For 25 minutes we’ve been watching the sunset: that day there was a performance of orange-lilac color with some crimson feathers and pale lemon flashes over a low wall of clouds.

A fucking cool place. Do enjoy.

If you badly want to travel to Mallorca, go to bed and have some sleep. This feeling won’t last.

But in our case, it did. So we just had to go there.

This is the same old story.

Each August my friend Nyusha and I together with our kids fly to Mallorca. I have to admit that our families don’t protest any longer. They understand that we need some time to relax and enjoy and it’s much more important for us than their “team building in an extreme situation”. So these seven days are only for us.

We arrived and found out that our favorite place at Louis’ had become bitchy and the owner had become spoiled under the pressure of tourist’s bucks. So we decided to look for something new.

Having made some inarticulate sound on Facebook, we were waiting for a response on part of the universe, and it gave us a gift — a restaurant in the middle of nowhere.

The highway turned into a road. Then the road turned into a narrow street twisting among ancient houses and old garages with some dull girls in hills at the bus stop. Taking pity on the prostitutes at the roadside (we ingenuously took them for some highschool students — ouch what a life they have here in the sticks!), we reached a huge asphalted platform. It was 18:45 and there was no one around. Only at the exit we suddenly realized that this was the parking lot of a restaurant for 400 seats and that afterwards we’d have to look for our car for a really long time… So, can you see the difference between a nugget and a polished fake? It’s the absence of gloss but the presence of history and truth.

With regard to restaurants, I can feel it as well.

The moment we entered the place, the only decoration of which was some old tile, slabs of meat and black pig’s gammons hanging from the walls, we felt it.

The first complements, among which was the lightest as snow aioli cooked of crushed baked garlic and not of mayonnaise with garlic, made us understand everything. After the sourdough artisan bread, which came right from a hearth oven, the whole picture cleared up. The multi-volume wine card with the starting price of 9eur for a bottle made the clouds lift and looking at the neighboring tables we finally got it – this’s our home! We have no need to go anywhere else.

The special dish of the restaurant is the huge grape snails cooked with Iberian pig sauce. They serve it as an aperitif. I decided not to upset my friend who was eating them greedily and with whom I spent so much time lamenting over “our internal motherland”, which demands to renounce all kinds of the most delicious stuff such as pigs and rabbits.  Then they served mussels, just boiled, but large, fresh, dense and therefore enthusiastically accepted by us and children, with slices of Mallorca flower of salt and splatters of parsley sauce.

For the main course you should have meat and you’ll definitely be dying from delight with each piece and dish. None of us could stop eating those little human companions baked in the oven. In horror we realized that it was to end pretty soon, as the place in our stomachs was coming to its limits.

The sunset fantastically complemented our repast.

Having come down off this kind of narcotic gastro-trip, we looked around.

“Where did all these people come from?” Nyusha wondered.

The restaurant was buzzing like a beehive. Neither on the verandah, nor inside were there any free chairs. Tables were filled with food. There was a dump at the entrance. The hostesses were dying with notebooks in their hands and names of guests on their lips. Visitors stormed the bars, which weren’t responding. Children’s playground turned into a kindergarten in rush hour. And the parking lot was like a car dump in Tennessee, out of which there’s no way out. However, the skilled valet guys did get us out of this nightmare.

On the way back I was morose and silent. Among all the restaurant models available in Moscow there isn’t any one, which functions in this format. Phrases like “it’s fully booked” don’t produce any effect on people. In our Pushkin you’ll be seated on a first-come, first-served basis and you’ll definitely get in. Well, perhaps you’ll have to wait around 30 minutes, but then you’ll be seated. But fucking 400 seats – non-stop full!

I felt slight envy for the hard work of my colleagues, I remembered the Crianza that we hadn’t finished, and looked at the bus stop. The girls weren’t there. The stream of the intoxicated cars from the restaurant had washed them away and taken forward in search of adventure.

Chef Pascal Settia evidently loves Asia. Masterfully, he blends classical French technique with Asian influences.

The result is, however, comprehensible, visually simple, tasty food. The sauces alone could cause a war, with the aim of taking chef Settia hostage, to enjoy his cooking skills privately.

Begin with «une coupe de champagne, s’il vous plait!» or «une couple de creman», or a whole bottle.

First Course:

A MUST is Terrine de foie gras with local mirabel plum confit and brioche + Alsace Muscat, or whatever Katrine suggests (there will be more about her).

Order fois gras everywhere, while in Alsace. Terrines, pan-seared, all kinds. Get it. Everywhere.

One order of scallop tataki with yuzu will not be enough, just like the gyoza with poultry.

Then:

After sharing a few starters, the sweetbread portions seem much too generous, but it will be used for soaking up the remnants of those sauces.

Three types of steamed fish «en papillote» with kaffir lime leaves and seasonal veggies. It is impossible to believe that fish with vegetables can be so delicious.

Pigeon thigh with veal kidneys. Long live kidneys!

Alsatian choucroute is not a dish for those faint in spirit and in stomach. Traditionally, the cabbage is very sour. The only upscale choucroute is served right here, so if you must try it, get only this one. All of the meats in the menu deserve a 10+

For dessert:

Pancakes with a local distillate (william’s pear, cherries, raspberries, herbs, etc) it is MEGA!

The restaurant covers 6 or 7 tables, plus a terrace on warm days. A transparent fire place sits in the middle of the room, with an Armagnac collection two meters away. The interior is homey, which in this case is a complement.

Situated in the city of Kaysersberg, voted the most beautiful French city of 2017 in an all-national vote. The city is nice, if you enjoy gingerbread-style architecture of Alsace, and if you are not a dried crumb at heart.

The only waiter, Katrine, is also a sommelier, and a «let me entertain you», and a chef’s wife. 180cm tall, wearing a national folk dress, which at first seems odd, but in about 5 minutes, everyone is convinced that she carries it well. That Madame is amazing!

The place is a must, for sure.

Book in advance, since it is often overbooked. Monday and Tuesday the place is closed, dinners are served Wednesday through Sunday. Lunches are served on Sundays only. Most likely they’d be closed for holidays. Katrine will let you know, she checks the mail.

NB: Moréote is an old name for the Pinot Noir grape.

Those, close to the chef Jean-Michel Elban, of Maximilien, say that he was chased by the Michelin watch-dogs. They wouldn’t leave him be and did grant him a star over 15 years ago.

Jean-Michel, even as a young chef, didn’t care for stars. All he wanted then and still wants now is to hang in the kitchen from dusk till dawn, and cook, cook, cook. That he does. It leaves him no time for tv shows and other distracting activities.

Whenever the restaurant is open, the chef is present in the kitchen, 100% of the time. It says a lot, primarily it is a guarantee of getting exactly what you came for. Consistent quality, consistent flavors. Just like visiting grandma for the 150th time, knowing, that she will, once again, make the same old meat and garlic roll, that you’ve known ever since you were a child. Nothing will change. Nothing. That is most important.

Same with Jean-Michel. Pigeon and Lobster — all else ceases to exist. Cauliflower tartar with scallop carpaccio — hold your breath, I’m coming. Pan seared foie-gras with rhubarb — god, am I worthy? Would you like some scampi soup? Why ask at all? You and I know that scampi never tasted better.

He uses only the top quality produce. He’s had a life-long affair with baby vegetables and edible flowers, way before it became and later ceased to be a gastronomical trend.

All dishes, if intended, reach the table, piping hot — chef’s trademark. He makes sure of this.

Ana, the chef’s wife, solely takes care of the interior. Everything is…cute, making a Muscovite weary, but all doubts fade as soon as the first amuse-bouche reaches the table and then you witness a marriage between a Pigeon and a Lobster.

Eat the bread. Scoop the butter from the silver rooster dish and spread it thick. Don’t refuse a refill. They don’t bake the bread, but they know where to get it, and they get it right. Same with the butter.

What else? The restaurant sits atop of the hill, overlooking a vineyard, beautiful any day, in any weather. You must have the apero and the digestif on the terrace. If not offered, ask for it yourself. The chef is also in charge of the vast garden. Another one of his hobbies that he dedicates his only day-off to. Well, I don’t know about that…

I could serenade the scenic route to and from the place, but I won’t. If you have not yet been to Alsace – go. Go do this whole foodie tour. Alsace is home to 26 3-star restaurants, more than any other French region. Even more 2-starred, every third place has a star, and in most others you’d eat and drink, lost for words.

The chef’s brother produces biodynamic wine. I, personally, am not a huge fan of Alsatian Pinot Noir, but the Elbin-Fuchs Pinot is delightful. Surprisingly, I enjoyed it at an entirely different restaurant, where I was forcefully convinced to try it, a chance which I am thankful for.

Another interesting fact – the chef is so humble that the house-sommelier would never offer their own wine. You have to ask! Other regional chefs always include the Elbin-Fuchs wines in their lists. The vineyard is 250 meters away and you can always load up a few crates of the wine you enjoyed.

Trust the sommelier.

A spa and many other Alsatian musts are all in a mere 10mins ride. I will mention them in my future reports.

Fish is fisherman’s bread.

Fisherman always has the best fish.

Fish, fish, fi-fi-fish!

A wooden shack, 30 meters away from the shoreline, facing the sea breeze, is marked with just one star, thank god. White tablecloths, low ceiling, with smells of the sea, obviously. All year round it smells like a warm summer night. No fishy smell.

For some reason, without further ado, all you want is to sit down and stay still till the break of dawn. Till the rooster crows along with the first seagulls and the first albatrosses. All the firsts. Because even when you’re a 160 y.o., there’s still a chance for a first. Then the second, and third, and back to the first, in place of dessert.

When…the black Tuscan night covers La Pineta, it is the time to throw off those fuchsia heels, ones that Dolce and Gabbana slaved over, and from within these walls (partially wicker separators, not even walls), step with those bare feet on the Tuscan sand, still warm from the generosity of the day’s sun. The sand that looks gray and drab in the light of day, transforms at night into a dramatic titanium hue. If lucky with the moon, there can be an Aivazovsky and a Michaelagelo, and the chest fills with the silky breeze and iodine, and there is no need to go to India, to wash floors at an ashram…shine your inner light right here! I’m loosing the plot.

And, so, you want to step out and lay your white shorts and your bare shoulders on that titanium warm sand, looking at the milky way, the moon path, breathing loudly and with joy…and to just die here. So goood. Because of all of this and the fish. Fish fish fi-sh-sh. Lost that thread, again…

Chef Luciano Zazerri is a third generation of fishermen, if I am not mistaken. He fished for over 30 years and cooked what he caught for his close ones.

He did so well that his friends kept telling him:

“Come on, Lucciano!” they would say. “It is not right to keep this gift from humanity. You must share it!”

And Luciano did share.

Surely, no one along the Tuscan coast does fish better. No better crudos, no sea creature will be cooked better and devoured with appreciation, such as here.

The chef himself is wonderful, warm, gallant and soft-spoken, with beautiful hands and a well-groomed beard, my god! If only he could be my grandfather…I would hug him and his beard would tickle my nose and cheek. He’d go off fishing early in the morning and we’d meet for lunch, eating fried fish on that terrace, straight out of the pan. I would wear a shift dress and he’d be topless, tanned, covered in wrinkles of kindness. The wind would mess up his hair and I’d be catching the paper napkins off the table. Again, I lost it, again…

Along with the chef, there is a Japanese, knife-swinging man, quietly breaking down a 30kg tuna in about 30 seconds. Maybe 32 seconds, when distracted by song and dance, which is common in Italian kitchens.

The baking corner is taken by the wife of that Japanese, making Italian babies, desserts as delicate as a geisha, but with some of the local character. The results are apple compotes in jello and a mad millefeuille.

However, for dessert, we went back to the crudo. Twice.

No specific advice on the menu. Try it all.

Modern-style Rotermanni Quarter of Tallinn is a former industrial zone, the buildings of which have been given new function and renovated in the best traditions of contemporary urban design. There you can find a residential area, different types of shops, and a lot of excellent cafes and restaurants.

I’d like to draw your attention to one place that deserves a separate treatment – the meat restaurant Pull with a meat shop under the name Saaremaa Butchery.

The restaurant, as well as the shop, is equipped with all the latest gastro-technologies including sophisticated charcoal grills and dry aging meat cabinets.

Despite the fact they present themselves as a meat restaurant, there’s enough seafood in the menu. They also have some vegetarian dishes.

But the main thing here is the meat, of course. Beef, pork, mutton, some awesome burgers. The beef is American but is dried right here, pork and mutton are local. Besides, in the shop you can get some local sausages that are quite good, meat delicacies or other stuff.

Oh, and I’ve completely forgotten that they also have some excellent desserts!

Enjoy yourselves and do have those most juicy burgers.