Restauranteur Stepan Mikhalkov has changed the name of his restaurant Snob's to Casual in a revolutionary way. He dropped the sky to the ground. Suspicious minds have seen in this an allusion to the popular book by O. Robski, but I think that this Oksana, with all due respect, is still far from the copyright of the English-Russian dictionary. Casual means "everyday, ordinary". The address of Stepan Mikhalkov's restaurant is 1st Obydensky Lane, Building 3. "Obydensky" is Casual, literally, so to speak, translated.

In general, O. Robski's influence on the minds of her fellow countrymen should not be overestimated. One Rublevka wife told me in a private conversation that Robski's book for her is like an instruction manual for using an elevator. When you are riding in it, say, five floors or, God forbid, get stuck, you will read everything, all these chilling details - about five passengers, about eight hundred kilograms of maximum weight, about the fact that in no case should you hinder or, on the contrary, indulge...

I remembered all this while riding in the elevator to God knows what floor, where a restaurant called Casual lives. I was in the mood for the usual, the ordinary, the most simple, although at the press conference, the printout of which I received by e-mail, I was promised only a price drop. Previously, when Snob's was around, the average bill was a hundred dollars, and now it was planned at seventy. Usually, i.e. everyday, so to speak.

The elevator smoothly stopped at the right floor. The doors opened. It smelled delicious. I have an unfulfilled dream. For some reason, the streets of Moscow don't smell like food. They never do. Even the most gloomy kebab houses don't smell. And it seems to me that smell is the most important thing that a city, a self-respecting city, should have after architecture. And I think that if the wind doesn't blow, then our restaurateurs should install some kind of scent sprayers, well, to prove the existence of life. So Casual smelled exactly like a Moscow street should smell like tomatoes, cheese, red pepper and something else so visceral that you secretly guess about, but you would never know when you meet them.

The restaurant itself looks very nice, even the horrible white gladioli in vases look nice, which is, of course, disarming. Because you want, of course, to find fault with something, even if the prices suddenly dropped to seventy dollars per person. But you can't find fault. Casual has one of the best spatial solutions in Moscow. Somehow the tables and chairs are arranged there successfully and the windows are curtained with muslin, although in principle there could have been a view from the windows...

And there is also an outstanding veranda. I saw a banner: “Casual is the best veranda in Moscow”, but this is actually a lie, because it does not explain at all what a unique veranda it really is. The best – in this case it is not a compliment, it is some kind of police characteristic. Like in the traffic police, when they fine for speeding, but it is a fine, and it should be a compliment – the person exceeded the permissible speed limit by a hundred kilometers or something.

In general, whatever you say, but everything that is in this restaurant is in no way casual. Nothing ordinary. Shrimp carpaccio, the same as in the Madrid Ritz - is that ordinary, in your opinion? Snail ragout - is that the norm? Veal kidneys - where was the last time you saw veal kidneys on a Moscow menu? But, on the other hand, the chef in this restaurant worked for Pierre Gagnaire, a man for whom three Michelin stars are a normal, casual thing, and, perhaps, that is where he should have started.

RESTAURANT CHRONICLE: Renal Insufficiency