From pounded beef fillets to juicy lulya kabobs, we feature two restaurants determined to satisfy any meat-loving urge.
A common occurrence, I was struck last week by a ferocious desire both for a good piece of steak and a very spicy sauce. Reasonably easy to get separately in Kyiv (though hot sauce is usually relegated to bottled stuff from the States or a relatively insipid homemade concoction suited more – logically – to Ukrainian tastes), finding a place serving them in collusion without resorting to a Tex-Mex American chain proved more of a challenge than I thought. After a bit of research, however, I knew exactly where to head. El Asador, the Argentinean mainstay down in Podil, seemed uniquely suited to my needs, and, after the explosion in the past few years of dining options in the capital, I also thought it might be interesting to see how the well-regarded stalwart was faring.
At first glance on a Friday night, though, it seems to have weathered the competition just fine. At 7:00, nearly every table was full and the atmosphere was one of general merriment. As my guest and I sat down, we remarked that the only off note was the loud music. Miraculously, it ceased nearly as the criticism left our mouths. A live band was taking the stage, and one that would play festive Latin favorites at a more appropriate level. What’s more, the busy interior design incredibly manages to both overdo it and remain tasteful at the same time. Perhaps it’s the relaxing lighting or the dark wood, but I found the excess of Argentinean objets d’art more fanciful than garish (though, in a steakhouse, the glass eyes of the mounted bull’s heads did seem a bit reproachful).
Feverish with red-meat bloodlust, my guest and I held nothing back. After a bit of a false start with a disappointing salad, the Villa Maria (Hr 30) – your usual crush of plain vegetables covered in mayonnaise and not even vaguely Latin – the main dishes were almost complete hits. An etrecote del Asador (Hr 56) is two hunks of veal topped with grilled peppers and bacon, the whole mess juicy enough to satisfy any carnivorous desire, and perfect to share. The pollito pepito (Hr 39) is a moist breast of chicken with the skin hanging on like a fatty shield of flavor (though, to be fair, we thought the outside layer could have been a little more evenly crisped). But the true reason for your visit should be the steak Asador (Hr 70), a plate-sized pounded side of beef that chews as easily as it cuts. What’s more, we ordered one side each of the picante and chimichurri sauces (Hr 7 apiece) and, while the latter was a decent green verdure of spiced diced onions (if a bit over-salted), the picante was a real surprise – a thick sludge of rich red heat and flavor that poured so delectably slowly that I began to impatiently dip pieces of steak in the crock.
EL ASADOR
29 Nyzhziy Val
Open daily from noon to 11 p.m.
English menu: Yes
English-speaking staff: Yes
Average price of main dish: Hr 45
Armenian hearth
Some marriages are simply fated. So it was with my own matrimony to Marm Bistro, a delightful little Armenian cafe located at the base of the open-air market, where Lesi Ukrainky splits to become Kikvidze and Bastionna.
I say fated because the place is right between my apartment and the office of the Post, so I walk past it every day. It took me weeks, though, building up curiosity, before I finally ventured inside. Having a neighborhood joint (or several) has always been very important to me. Back in New York I had at least a half-dozen places where the people smiled when I walked in, greeted me by name, and often knew beforehand what I was about to order. My luck in Kyiv had been a bit different: I tried quite unsuccessfully to turn the Soviet-style cafe near my apartment into my regular hangout, but finally admitted that both the food and the attitude made it nearly impossible to want to return. After a month-long romance with Marm, however, things are only getting more serious.
I’d like to clarify a few things beforehand, however. This is not your typical ex-pat eatery. There are no English menus and the staff speaks little of it as well. The walls are not overly decorated with images and objects trying to evoke whatever theme the owners decided to convey. The furnishings are not sumptuous and there are no hordes of wealthy beautiful laughing people. Marm is a small simple place, tastefully if minimally decorated, with an accordingly short menu that remains true to the dishes of their native Caucasian land. But the prices are right, the staff is the sweetest in town (willing to work with you if you can’t exactly express what it is you want) and the food is always exceedingly fresh and lovingly prepared by hand. It’s fair to say that Armenian cuisine doesn’t quite “sing” the way the national food of its neighbors do. There is little trace of Georgian spice or the Middle Eastern preparations of Azerbaijan. But the cabbage salad looks as if it was shredded moments before and some dishes even come with a small but lovely garnish that pays surprisingly dainty homage to presentation. Again, I’m biased—I eat here almost every morning. The kitchen eschews the more complicated dishes of Armenian cuisine, staying true to their “bistro” appellation and serving mostly quick little meals: a perfectly folded omelet; a tender pair of lulya kebabs; yakhni, cubes of succulent pork smeared with onions atop a heavenly thin and light lavash; or a beautiful dainty clay pot filled with stewed lamb and potatoes. And everything for under Hr 15. What’s more, the mashed potatoes would hold their own atop any American Thanksgiving table and their French fries, thick delectably oily slabs, are reminiscent of a time when the humble side dish wasn’t relegated to precut frozen shoelaces. Try a Garun salad, a wonderfully light pile of shredded cabbage and sliced pickle, miraculously devoid of mayonnaise and flavored only with a nice light oil and some salt. Eat any number of their lavash “wraps,” the Armenian answer to burritos, filled with either ground lamb, chunks of chicken, or sausage. Their borscht is also one of the better in town, and their small and lovingly prepared deserts are never too sweet. Again, this is not the place to impress a date or a business partner. But if you’re in the neighborhood and want perfect friendly service and genuinely home-cooked food, Marm should not be missed.
