Sungari, Blini, and Someday

When one speaks of Sungari in Shinjuku, it is surely a well-known, legendary Russian restaurant.

I wonder when I first went there. It must have been nearly 20 years ago, but I don't remember. I have visited both the shop in front of Seibu-Shinjuku and the one in the Subaru Building, and I have also stopped by the Sanchome branch that moved from the Subaru Building. That said, I probably only visit once every year or two.

I have downed vodka alone with salted pork fat as a snack, and I have enjoyed Georgian wine and Russian tea while drinking one-on-one with close friends and acquaintances. I recall a farewell party for a certain acquaintance being held there, too. Come to think of it, I once used it for a meeting with Mr. Tsukimura.

The pelmeni (dumplings) eaten with lemon butter are also good. I have gazed resentfully at a bowl of borscht—which I wanted to drink by the bowlful—because the acidity and vegetable flavors were so effective. It was also fun to find that the beef stroganoff, which I had imagined would be something like hashed beef rice, actually had surprisingly firm, substantial meat. There is no doubt I have eaten and drunk various other things there as well.

But if I were to name my favorite, it would have to be the blini. Specifically, the marinovannaya keta and blini (Russian-style fresh salmon marinade wrapped in blini crepes).

After you order, they first bring out the salmon marinade and blini on a plate to show you. It is a declaration of war, letting you know they are about to wrap these up. I give a light nod and wait a while, and then the pancakes appear on a plate, folded in half. The glimpse of vegetables and salmon is devilishly enticing.

I slowly pick up my knife and fork, cut a bite-sized piece, and eat. Hmm.

The acidity and richness of the sour cream, the smooth texture and flavor of the salmon, the crisp texture and refreshing quality of the onions, the aroma of finely chopped tomatoes, the faint scent of herbs, and the moist strength of the slightly thick pancake that wraps them all together—these things race through my mouth in an instant.

Delicious.

As I busily move my knife and fork, the dish disappears from the plate. Oh my. Then, the next dish is brought out, and my eyes shift to that. Blini is a wonderful food that always appears as an appetizer or a second course, brilliantly hitting a leadoff home run for my taste buds.

The dishes that follow never betray my expectations either. They don't betray them, but a part of my tongue's memory is undoubtedly with the blini. It can't be helped.

Someday, I wish to order no course or anything else, just keep ordering refills of blini, and enjoy them lazily with wine. But despite this being a restaurant I have visited in various situations for nearly 20 years, I am still too timid to do so.

(2021.1.22)