Bishkek Restaurant Reviews

I can't see Bishkek becoming another addition to the Jiffler empire of obscure city guides, especially since the good people at the Spektator are doing such a good job of reporting on the restaurant and nightlife scene. I should be back here later in the year so I might give the editorial team at the Spektator a call, see if they'll take me out on the town.

I've had a run of bad luck with Chinese restaurants lately (see Dakar Restaurant Reviews for the latest disaster) and my first meal out in Kyrgystan was to prove no exception. Exhausted from two nights in the air and a days work my colleague and I cast out for the nearest restaurant.

It looked popular, and we were led into a back room crammed with smoking Russian teenagers in various states of inebriation. Somewhere nearby there had been a fashion explosion. Girls with crimped fringes sported diamond print sweaters paired with leggings and fuck-me boots, while the boys, shaven haired and pale, dressed as if they were at work on a Welsh sheep farm circa 1983.

With an English menu finally procured we managed to order three dishes and settled back to drink lukewarm tea from dirty bowls. As our dishes came out of the kitchen it became clear that we'd over ordered. First, an enormous bowl of "Meat with aubergines" which was in fact "Tripe with boiled cucumbers and whole garlic cloves". I don't care what people say, tripe is not my idea of easy eating. I've tried it many times, and will no doubt eat it again, but once every two years is probably enough. Next up was a large and murky puddle of bizarrely textured mushrooms served with greens, before we were served the house speciality, that old Chinese classic "Chicken with potatoes".

We ate about a third of what was in front of us. Felt a bit guilty, and left.

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Adriatico on the other hand is a smashing place. Rated by many as Bishkek's best Italian restaurant the menu promises Pizzas, pastas and the usual meat dishes. Service is swift, if a little fussy, and once again we over order. This time we eat the lot though.

Greek salad lacks punch, and olive oil, but the selection of salumi more than makes up for this. cheesy ravioli all round comes with what appears to be a super generous serving of grated truffle. Judging by the mildness of smell and flavour. and the paleness of colour, these must be Chinese truffles, bit still, nice to have truffles innit, perigord or not.

Decent coffee, so-so gelato and tiramisu wrap things up. This may end up being the default comfort eating restaurant for my future sojourns to Bishkek. One of those restaurants that fit the bill when you're hungry, worn out and just need something pleasing and familiar.

Adriatico Restaurant
219 Chui Avenue
Bishkek
Tel: (+996) 312 61 46 09 (Take away service available)

'Ta-daaaah' in a sort of Sino-Dutch way

I don't know, you write a couple of blog-posts about eating out Netherlands style and the next thing you know you're invited to a Dutch dinner in Dakar. Based on a sample size of two, I can now infer that Dutch men know how to cook. My friend's potato and garlic soup was that perfect combination of velvet-smooth soup with al dente nuggets of garlic. Lekker.

New Peking / Niuw Peking, Ede.

I thought I'd managed to block out the memory of eating at the New Peking restaurant in Ede, but I'm going to have to get it out of my system here on jifflings instead. Being a somewhat conservative town, Ede shuts down at about 8pm and everyone goes home for a spot of self flagellation, or to watch the telly. whatever. Anyhow, the New Peking looked inviting; we could order a set-banquet from the Dutch-language-only menu and be assured of eating something recognisable, and it was a 25 minute walk through the snow to the next restaurant. We had cold feet. It was a no brainer.

It started reasonably well. The chicken soup came with crystal clear broth and shredded pieces of proper poultry. Spring rolls and other deep-fried things were springy, and you know, deep fried. Nothing worth getting the trumpets out for, but solid, neighbourhood chinese restaurant cooking all the same. Our feet had started to thaw by this point as well. Things were looking good.

Rather too soon after clearing away the detritus of our starters, the owner arrived pushing a trolley and proudly presented us with a platter of main course dishes. when I say proudly, I mean she made a noise as if to say 'Ta-daaaah' in a sort of Sino-Dutch way. Raising an eyebrow each, we peered at our wagonwheel sized tray of mixed dishes and made that peculiar gurning noise that British people do in restaurants when they are trying to convey enthusiasm and satisfaction, when really they are thinking "What the fooking hell is that supposed to be?".

Some chicken, in sweet and sour sauce. Some vegetables, also in sweet and sour sauce. Onions and some shredded bits of cow ringpiece (in blackbean sauce, phew). Deep fried balls of... stuff, bobbing miserably in a polluted lake of sweet and sour sauce with half a tin of watery cocktail fruits emptied nonchalantly over the top, and finally a herb omelette in, er, sweet and sour sauce.

We actually ate some of it. To be honest, I couldn't wait to try the omelette. I knew already that it would be a total disgrace, but I thought it would make Mrs Jiffler laugh. The sweet and sour sauce wasn't even a passable attempt (and since it seemed to be the house speciality, one might expect something half decent), but appeared to be made from equal portions of tinned tomato soup and white vinegar. Seriously.

At least we could laugh about it, and pick at a few bits of meat and rice. We didn't bother with dessert though. The cold weather outside seemed more appealing.