Best Of Minsk

Vasilki Minsk, Nezavisimosti 16

Vasilki is the place to be, in terms of middle-of-the-road cafes. It looks like a peasant hut, a very very clean peasant hut made of plastic. It is always busy, especially on weekends. Long lines of people waiting to get in are customary – not a pleasant thing if you are sitting near the entrance. The waitress may offer you to share the table with other visitors, or nice visitors, like a polite shopping tourist from Moscow did for us, can offer the arrangement themselves.

Chidlren’s Menu

Chidlren’s Desert Menu – cocktails almost the same prices as Mom’s and Dad’s – not complaining, just saying

Crayons and paper on the menu

‘Wooden’ utensils

Mulled wine (without the wine – a non alcoholic version)

‘Little Vitamin’ Children’s cocktail

‘Little Star’ Children’s French Fries

‘Fresh From The Garden’ salad – really yummy with sunflower seeds, onions, tomatoes and a variety of salads; arguably the best salad at Vasilki cafe

A la Caesar’s

Boletus Mushroom soup plus yummy bread

Frying pan of sausages and pork rind – really, really satisfying (4 hours on the treadmill)

‘Happy Tree Stump’ chicken chop with potatoes - children are welcome in Vasilki

Pear pie – errr, skip it

Cappuccino

Vasilki cafe is right in the center of Minsk. The service can be slow during the lunch hours and weekends so try to look for a ‘clear’ spot to enjoy this chain cafe of national Belarusian cuisine and the Vasilki shop next door.

Golden Coffee Club Minsk Cafe

Golden Coffee Club was abuzz with loud dance music and screaming people inside. Everyone stared at my kid, as if it was a three headed pink elephant with wings, and the second floor, which obscured the only table that wasn’t occupied was roasting with scents of hookah filler (no, it ain’t ‘prostitute’ spelt in a funny way)– apple, cinnamon, cherry.

The overworked waitress, who panted and carried a balloon of negatively charged air around her, forgot to smile, but brought the menu (in Russian and English).

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Anyone who knows me knows I don’t eat pizza. But I was with a friend and the friend looks about as thick as a match (which I could put down to a strict diet of pizzas only), so pizza was ordered, together with a shake for the child and smoothie for said friend.

The coffee at Golden Coffee Club Minsk wasn’t very good, and didn’t wake me up a bit, and with streaks of sweat trickling down my back and forming a pool in between my breasts, I craved water more than anything else. I remembered hours after my operation when I wasn’t allowed to drink and dreamt of all the drinks that were invented by man; that’s what Golden Coffee Club is, upstairs, unless you are a hookah (yes, this is ‘prostitute’ spelt in a funny way) in a tiny-wini bikini. (But I liked the water on the side of my espresso).

The smoothie was good, testified the friend, but the pepperoni pizza looked like it was dropped from the second floor onto the pavement, picked up from under the stilettoed heel of a fashinista, smelling expensive and waving her laminated curls around, and smacked back on the plate. With presentation like this it was no wonder most people in Golden Coffee Club were sitting with straws glued to their lips – this isn’t exactly a place for the gourmand (which I am not).

The waitress brought the bill instead of the cheesecake I ordered, and when I pointed her blunder to her she got mad, then upset, then defensive, instead of saying ‘Sorry’. For a long time, she had been explaining to us why she couldn’t bring tea: they haven’t ordered enough kettles, and since it was full house, the ones they did order were occupied, and we’d have to wait 20 minutes, an hour maybe. Errr, hmmm, ahek-ahek.

On our subsequent visits to Golden Coffee Club with the child we were presented with a children’s menu, tried the chicken soup and chicken fillet club sandwiches, mushroom lasagna, a strawberry-banana smoothie and the most pretentious coffee ‘Lady Strawberry’.

The lasagna was good and we came back again, on a busy Saturday afternoon, to be told no lasagnas were served, and since the rest of the menu suddenly vanished as well, we just had a couple of milkshakes Nostalgia (tasty, orange and peach) and left.

The first floor of Golden Coffee Club is cosy and somewhat dimly lit, with a faux homely atmosphere (books, books everywhere) so popular with the cafe interior designers in Minsk. The place is ALWAYS busy and even the non-smoke area is always full of second hand smoke. In short, it’s not ‘the best cafe in Minsk’, its humble slogan for the website.

Golden Coffee Club is not for the light-hearted. The music is too loud, the people too young and need to have sticks up their asses surgically removed. Unless you want to try hookah (works both ways), don’t go to the second floor. And yes, leave the kids at home. If they run out of this Minsk cafe blocking the entrance and ruining the grand arrival of the next It bitch, you (and the child) are risking a black eye (eyes).

Grunvald, Minsk

For a quiet dinner with a special friend we try to find Moya Anglisjskaya Babushka (and diss the ‘Englishness’ of it) but settled for the good old Grunvald instead. It is a wonderful place right in the centre of the city with a memorable knight propping the entrance hall wall, classic décor and simple but elegant food. We settle on the terrace which is full of elegant diners peacefully devouring their food and begin yelling at the top of our voices about out obnoxious issues with obnoxious people in our lives. My special friend shares the latest dirt while I comment on every juicy bit wildly and the child takes pictures of everything around (from the verbally violent homeless man walking by to a strange paparazzo sitting at the next table taking pictures of cappuccino cups, me, my friend, windows, the road, etc). The very elegant and smiley waiter elegantly tells the homeless man to keep his opinions to himself, takes a few good pictures of the three of us and surprises us (in conjunction with the chef) with a customized desert (see below). 

The Grunvald menus look nice and are pretty heavy (handy when you need to knock a swearing passerby unconscious). They are in three languages – Russian, Belarusian, English – which I am in love with and despite a few misspellings and clumsy translations (shut up, posh ^%&^*) they are pretty well written. My special friend bickers a little about champagne which the waiter says may not be ‘bubbly’ (it’s sweet to be warned in advance, some waiters in Minsk just bring a plate with a completely different dish on it without bothering to explain why). Since the café sells champagne by glasses, not bottles, there may be an open one in the kitchen from which the bubbly goodness has evaporated, sadly. After an exchange of perfectly logical arguments from both sides, having reached a diplomatic compromise fit for the halls of the General Assembly, we are presented with two glasses of perfectly bubbly golden drink. Victory number one.

White Mushroom Soup (35000)

This goes down nicely and is really full of that thick, solid mushroom flavor we order mushroom soup for. The bread on the side is nice and the child eats about 1/3 of the dish which is saying much (despite the homeless man returning to tell us he would love ‘to smack her on the head with a spoon’ which somehow doesn’t change the tone of the evening at all; we are too happy to care).

Veal Steak (60000)

I don’t like eating babies but something happens that night and I must confess I enjoy the meal immensely. It’s clean, it’s well done (just like I ask, in English, the waiter has to be lauded for perfectly understanding our foggy instructions in various languages accompanied by profuse and probably unnecessary hand waves), and the fact that the child opens its beak for every delicious bite speaks volumes. Bravo!

Julienne With Mushrooms (40000)

Is filling and thick. The food here comes in pretty ceramic pots, streams of vagrant smoke painting white ribbons in the fragrant evening air. It is a bit too ‘fat’ for my taste, but we are in the Middles Ages, there is little place for skimpy salads and calorie counting. My friend says it’s very good. 

Ice Cream With Nuts, Chocolate And Sweet Sauce (20000)

When the deserts arrive, the waiter apologizes they have taken longer than usual, but he says it’s because the chef has turned up something he has never seen before. And then he lands this painting of a chocolate bunny in front of the beaming child. It’s thoughtful and it’s classy. It’s what makes people come back. The plate is squeaky clean afterwards. 

Warm Plum Tart With A Scoop Of Ice Cream (20000)

The presentation of both deserts is so spectacular what they taste like is a matter of secondary importance. In so many places in Minsk deserts are criminally overpriced and the presentation not to mention the food itself is disappointing but Grunvald is an exception. The tart is smooth and cheesy, the plums add a tinge of the pleasantly sour and the ice cream brings in a snowflake of sophistication.

The fact that so much of this review hinges on the performance of one person – the waiter – should tell restaurant owners how painstaking they should be when choosing their ‘ambassadors’. We tipped our waiter generously. It is imperative to motivate professionalism in the mostly unprofessional setting of the Minsk eating out scene.

My gut tells me with this attitude the boy who served us won’t be waitressing for long. And I look forward to reviewing his own place in Minsk which will be elegant and inviting. But I wish Grunvald the best of luck in the meantime.