Shagal

Although Moscow is home to eateries of every stripe and description, kosher restaurants are rarer than hens’ teeth. So there was cause for surprise this spring when two restaurants, both certified kosher by Moscow’s highest rabbinical authorities, opened simultaneously. Since then, King David, a large, two-story affair, has closed its doors after a three-month run, leaving smaller Shagal with a near monopoly of the kosher dining market.

Hidden away on an unremarkable stretch of Bolshaya Nikitskaya Ulitsa, Shagal has the look and feel of a discreet, members-only club; you ring a doorbell, a hostess peeps out, looks you over, then leads you through a narrow hallway to the restaurant area. After your meal, she accompanies you, key in hand, to let you back out.

The restaurant itself is small — there is a tiny bar/cafe and two rooms, each holding no more than five or six tables. Soft lighting, heavy, ornate furniture, and dozens of reproductions of paintings by Russian-Jewish artist Marc Chagall — after whom the restaurant is named — give it an intimate, cozy feel, like a private art gallery or the apartment of rich relatives. On the Tuesday night when we visited, we saw no other guests, and that was fine. Due to its size, Shagal is one of those rare places that feels more inviting when it is empty.

Shagal’s cuisine leans heavily toward Western European Jewish dishes with a Russian/Ukrainian slant: plenty of fish, cold cuts and salads, many of them bearing the name of the town or region where they originated. As proof of its credentials, Shagal’s kosher certificate is on display.

For starters, we had the Shagal Salad (380 rubles), which consisted of arugula, slices of radish, chicken and caramelized pumpkin, topped by an olive oil, lemon and honey dressing. This one was a winner — simultaneously tangy and sweet, crispy, and altogether refreshing.

Next came the minced carp Vitebsk style (395 rubles) or, as it is more affectionately called, gefilte fish. While in the past I have seen gefilte fish served cutlet style, here it came stuffed back into the carp’s skin, topped with kholodets (jellied fish) and accompanied by a side of horseradish. Great presentation, but a bit bland for my tastes; the horseradish added heat, but little flavor, and the whole thing only came alive after I treated it with a liberal amount of salt and pepper.

Potato latkes (180 rubles), or potato pancakes fried in oil, were next on the list. Traditionally served at Hanukkah time, these tend to vary quite a bit, with every family boasting its own secret recipe. Shagal’s are large and thick, crispy on the outside, moist within, and topped with mushroom sauce — an unbeatable combination, even though you only get two per order.

Finally, the main courses, and this is where Shagal really brings out the heavy artillery. My dinner partner’s chef’s special baked trout (680 rubles) made quite an entrance, covered by the inflated sphere of tin foil that it was cooked in. This was a whole, healthy sized trout in white wine sauce, boneless, with a layer of cooked zucchini and tomatoes on top and another layer inside. The fish was melt-in-your-mouth tender, the veggies were cooked to perfection, still retaining a bit of crunch, and the wine sauce provided the perfect background.

The chicken filet Omsk style (510 rubles), served with a side of baked apples and topped with whortleberry sauce, was a knockout as well. The chicken was perfectly seasoned, crispy on the edges, and just a little tough — a toughness that gave it an appealing homemade quality, bringing back memories of Mom’s delicious chicken cutlets back home. Is it worth paying $20 for something your mom can make? When Mom is a few thousand miles away, you bet it is.