While the husband does not see ...

My husband is a very conservative person in everything that concerns food. He eats about the same thing since kindergarten, and any proposal to try snails, oysters or Ethiopian cuisine responds with a contemptuous snort.

I, for one, am a lover of hauling in my mouth everything new, regardless of what this tasting can turn out for me. The monotony of tastes for me is like death, in the literal sense of the word. I begin to feel anxious, anxious, thirsty for searching, I collect my suitcase and go on business to hell, or rather closer. Closer to exotic cuisines and new experiences. Moscow is very good in this sense.

This time I chose three national cuisines - Korean, Ethiopian and Scottish.

With the Koreans, I did not grow together right away. Somewhere in the depths of my soul, I understood that their kitchen might be too spicy for me. Therefore, I asked the waiter not to gesture, making the option "light".

- Well, then it will be tasteless! - sincerely indignant Korean. - Why do you need tasteless soup? We will make you the most delicious soup in the world!

And left.Apparently, for the most delicious in the world, in his opinion, food. After a while he appeared with soup, I took a spoon, and ...

- AAAA! AAAA! My receptors ... I do not know what to compare it with. Approximately, as if you enter a night bar where terribly loud music is playing, and it seems to you that your eardrums are about to burst. Glancing around, and trying not to be noticed by the Koreans sitting nearby, I poured a glass of mineral water into the soup. It became a little better. A little bit. After five spoons, I already thought of something like “Tigers do not like thistles,” and asked for the bill. Although I know that, for example, dumplings could be eaten without fear.

With the Ethiopians, I also did not work. It looked decent, and included something like pancakes. Sferhu lay either mince, or else some unappetizing brown substance. I had to eat with my hands (it tastes so good). However, on closer acquaintance, the pancakes were sour and fresh. Not at all like our Shrovetide - lush, fatty, sweet ... but some kind of low-fat, simplified version. Incredulously, scooping up pancake from each pile, I realized that I was no longer going to visit Ethiopians either. The next 200 years - for sure.

portrait cell.jpg

The Scots were closest to my ideas about delicious food, but at the same time with a national flavor, maybe because we belong to the same northern type. Beef, oatmeal, chips and tomatoes, cherry tomatoes are familiar and not scary. Special color is created not by the products, but by their combinations and method of preparation. Although there is really unusual. From the exotic for me personally, for example, there was a boar and deer, as well as a fern. I was particularly attracted to deer. Together with the fern, of course. Here is what he looks like.

The taste of a deer is not very different from the usual meat. I am afraid that with my eyes closed I would not be able to identify a deer. With the open, however, too. Fern made a special, indelible impression on me. Here I would have borrowed it into my menu forever.

Tried soup with sour cream. He is almost like ours, no surprises, just delicious. Naturally, I took a couple of whiskey-based cocktails - where, without this, in an institution with a Scottish flavor. By the way, there is a very large selection in terms of this noble drink. Lovers will definitely find something interesting for themselves.But there are quite standard Pina Colada-type cocktails on the menu.

The institution is called the "Scottish cell", and in the beginning, to be honest, I had some sado-maso associations with this word. I imagined some big cage, maybe even with handcuffs. However, everything turned out to be simpler - there is just everything in the box - sofas, tablecloths, waiters' kilts (yes-yes), and even plaedica. Very cozy.

I also liked the fact that nobody turns on the music at full capacity, from this I immediately deteriorate my mood and lose my appetite. As a person who is very sensitive to noise pollution, I can't even eat where the music literally screams. This is permissible in pubs, in which people came to dance, but not in restaurants, where they go all the same to eat and chat.

I will say more about the dessert, which made an indelible impression on me. This is Cranahan. The traditional Scottish dessert of oatmeal, butter cream, raspberry, honey and whiskey again. Despite the fact that the flakes can cause someone suspicion, it is very, very tasty. Already for the sake of this dessert alone it was worth getting to know Scottish cuisine.

In a word, while the national Scots are leading for me. True, as grooms they say, not very much. I read about a Scotsman who managed to write a statement to the police at his Russian lady for beating when she slapped him in the face. So, it is better to just come to the restaurant with your own samovar, especially since men usually like a rich selection of whiskey and meat dishes.

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