King of Russia

It's in a mall in the Northeast, but Tashkent's worth the trip.

by Katherine Dahlsgaard

"Do you speak Russian?"

This was the sound of happy Russians—bellowing and laughing over their bottles of BYOB vodka and plate after plate of robust foods.

This was the thickly accented question that first greeted Melanie, Fred and me as we gratefully tumbled into Tashkent, a restaurant serving the cuisine of Uzbekistan, the former Soviet republic.

I replied lamely, "Uh, no… but we do have a reservation."

Actually, I was concerned that we no longer had even that. We were over 30 minutes late for said reservation, due to the general state of ignorance that existed in my car regarding the topography of the Great Northeast. We had gotten lost, made wrong turns, gotten lost again. At various points it really had seemed as though we were driving to Tashkent, the capital city of Uzbekistan. Fortunately, the time spent tooling about in unfamiliar territory had added to the feeling of traveling to a truly exotic, faraway locale for a night of big adventure.

Tashkent, the city, is located in the far northeast of Uzbekistan, which, in turn, is located just to the north of Afghanistan in Central Asia. The country is one of the largest of the former Soviet republics, with an area roughly the size of California and a population of 24 million people, two and a half million of whom live in Tashkent. Uzbeks make up about 70 percent of the total population; Russians, at 8 percent, constitute the largest minority.

Tashkent, the restaurant, is housed in a strip mall, wedged between "Salon Ambience" and a Partyland store. The humble location belies the elegant atmosphere inside. The recently renovated one-room restaurant is small, and contains about 15 tables, beige carpeting, lots of gold accents and Uzbek folk art. It looks like a friend's rich grandmother's living room in the '70s, if that grandmother had the habit of glamorous vacations to places you'd never heard of.

Edward, our waiter, explained that over 90 percent of the clientele is Russian. True enough: my friends and I were the only ones present that evening who spoke anything else, with the exception of Edward himself when he took our orders and very patiently answered all our questions. There was a shouty sound to the restaurant, but not in an icky Chicago sports bar kind of way. No, this was the sound of happy Russians—bellowing and laughing over their bottles of BYOB vodka (no kidding) and plate after plate of equally robust foods. It was all very festive.

The menu is written entirely in Russian with rough English translations. The food itself is hearty fare, without frills or overly obvious deference to the American palate. And it is very good. Uzbekistan is considered to have one of the most refined cuisines of Central Asia, a combination of Eastern European, Chinese, Afghan and Indian influences. The country is particularly known for its grain dishes, and for the abundance of vegetables and fruits available there.

A friend who had grown up in Tashkent had recommended the restaurant to me, and I came armed with a list of his suggestions. Our meal began with zakusi (appetizers) of various vegetable salads (each $4). All were uncomplicated and fresh-tasting, and could serve vegetarian diners quite well. There was pakhtakor salad, a simply dressed combination of chopped tomatoes, cucumbers, onions and radishes, all topped with a bit of dill weed. The chim-cha was a spicy marinated cabbage salad, fairly close to Korean kim chi. The sate was a relish of ground eggplant, zucchini and onions. Melanie and Fred liked, but I was bored by, the alivie, a "Russian-style" potato salad distinguished only from that-which-I-generally-fear-at-summer-picnics by the inclusion of green peas.

Our meal continued with large bowls of lagman, a popular Uzbek soup of noodles combined with browned beef and vegetables in a rich broth ($5). This was accompanied with a large round of non, the traditional Uzbek bread ($1.50). The non, shaped into a plump circle with a divot at the center and with a light coating of black and white sesame seeds, was just great. It was served piping hot from the oven—crispy on the outside, very dense and chewy on the inside.

Main courses were rich and meaty. Ours included Uzbekistan's national dish, plov ($6). This is a pilaf of rice with lamb, carrots, onions and various spices, including cumin, turmeric and paprika ($6). This distinctive entree is the most famous Uzbek creation and a must-try, but be forewarned that it has a very high fat content due to the large amount of oil used to brown the ingredients. We each had a samsa, or baked Uzbek pirogi ($2.50). These were quite satisfying, palm-sized triangles of bread with a savory filling of lamb and mellow onions. Charcoal-grilled lamb shishkebob ($3), succulent and covered with raw onions, rounded things out.

None of us was taken with dessert: lavz, an overly sweet mixture of finely chopped nuts with honey, hardened and cut into squares ($2.50). There are other desserts offered at Tashkent, and I would recommend trying those.

We attempted partial digestion over green tea. Our dinner had been so substantial, so filling, I thought we'd never get back to Center City—not because we'd get lost again, but because I wasn't sure we'd make the short walk out to the car.

The ride home was a breeze—minus the wrong turns, we realized that Tashkent is really quite easy to find. And it's definitely worth the trip.

Tashkent, 842 Red Lion Road, 464-0106. Open for lunch and dinner, Tuesday-Sunday, from noon to midnight; on Monday, 5 p.m. to midnight. Live music and dancing (!) on weekend nights. Cash only; BYOB. Take Roosevelt Avenue north to Red Lion Road. Take a left, and continue to the corner of Red Lion and Bustleton. Just past this corner, turn left into the little strip mall. Park close.