Tchaikovsky

At our first visit, we find the Tchaikovsky discreetly impressive. And the impression only amplifies with each subsequent lunch and dinner. Its symphony begins with quiet classicalbackground music. It intensifies with the dramatic black walls decorated with massiveornate metal picture frames, some containing paintings, some empty. And it culminates with the white swan origami napkins (and one black!) on the tables. The Tchaikovsky begins to captivate the visitor on the way in. And it continues at the table. One of the champagnes available by the glass is Dom Perignon 2009. The food is inspired by18th-century aristocratic Russian-French cuisine to its very origins. Go ahead and order the Blini Royale with a trio of caviars (osetra caviar, golden pike roe and trout roe). The round blini, a couple of centimetres thick, is baked according to the original recipe of the court chef of the Russian Emperor. Crisp on the outside. Airy on the inside. Three caviars. A drop of sour cream. That is all. Back then, food did not compete with architecture or fashion in grandiosity. Or if, then inrich table display s at grand feasts. Each separate dish looked unassuming, but was made of the best ingredients and tasted refined, aristocratic. Anxiously novelty-seeking food fashion hasno place at the restaurant at the elegant Hotel Telegraaf. Nor do the Tchaikovsky’s visitors want itto. Phones stay inbags and selfies are off the map. A restaurant should offer an elegant atmosphere and a permanently high level in food and drink.