The Crimean cheburek, a savory turnover filled with minced meat and onions, is a popular street food throughout Moscow’s sphere of influence. The spicy chicken goulash, of Hungarian provenance, is crowned with a flaky crust and arrives steaming hot in the clay pot in which it was roasted. With the place nearly covered in pine, the setting evokes the cozy feel of a cabin, or, with some imagination, a wood-lined banya-and many of the dishes are appropriately calorific, sweat-inducing affairs. and its satellites, with dishes from as far afield as Central Europe and the Caucasus. A more precise classification might be pan-Soviet fusion-the menu is a culinary tour of the former U.S.S.R. Masha and the Bear presents itself as a Russian restaurant, or an American restaurant serving high-quality Russian food.
“For the next four or five bites, you will taste flavors you never knew existed,” Sherman said. As soon as the food hits your palate, that’s when you breathe.” The diners did as they were told. Don’t inhale just yet-put something in your mouth. “Drinking is a part of Russian cuisine,” Vitaly Sherman said to a table of youngish Americans at Masha and the Bear, the Williamsburg gastropub of which he is the proprietor and head chef.
