AsiaLIFE

Russian food may not be the obvious choice for tropical Cambodia, but Irina Godlevskaja’s Soviet-style restaurant has flourished and endured in Phnom Penh. Mai Lynn Miller Nguyen hears her story.

From Russia with love. No other phrase could so aptly describe the approach at Irina Russian Restaurant. Thirteen years ago, Irina Godlevskaja and her husband, Gennadiy Kharasikov, opened a simple, four-table joint. Now in its seventh location, the restaurant has become a local institution.

The space and staff may have grown, but the establishment retains the charm of a “small family restaurant,” as Irina herself refers to it. A Friends Book is kept in the entryway, filled with notes written in a variety of languages by past diners.

For this is Irina’s approach, providing a place where anyone who walks through the door is a friend. Ready to provide suggestions from the menu and explain how to throw back a shot of Vodka the Russian way, Irina has the kind of welcoming demeanour that has become too rare in the modern dining experience.

Born in Uzbekistan to a Russian family, Irina saw the homeland she had always known disappear when the Soviet Union dissolved in 1991. Though the sign outside describes the restaurant as Russian, the cuisine and atmosphere is actually homage to the former USSR.

“We try to introduce our Soviet culture,” says Irina. “Many things were maybe wrong, but it was a really big country, with a lot of beautiful people. The policy and the people were different.”

Over the years, with the help of many friends, Irina has decorated the restaurant with remnants of the old country. Paintings of pastoral landscapes, currency from former Soviet states, and traditional costumes embellish the walls. The infamous symbol of the hammer and sickle is pinned to a bulletin board. Shelves above the bar showcase an assortment of Vodka bottles. As one would expect, wooden Matryoshka dolls, nestled one inside the other, feature in the decoration.
“Everything you see here is a memory of what was in the Soviet times,” explains Irina.

Like a Matryoshka doll herself, Irina holds several surprises. Her chosen profession was teacher, for which she trained in Uzbekistan and spent years instructing in a university. She continues to privately tutor students in the Russian language in Phnom Penh, which she keeps up for her own enjoyment and desire to help the community.

Another layer of Irina reveals another story. She and her husband, Gennadiy, came to Cambodia 15 years ago to join an American NGO working on wildlife preservation efforts. For nine months, they camped in a tent in the jungle. Besides providing a sanctuary for hurt and threatened animals, they worked to educate the Khmer people on the importance of saving wildlife, which had suffered during the years of Khmer Rouge rule. Irina and Gennadiy then moved to work at the Phnom Tamao Wildlife Refuge Centre, and can relate anecdotes of bears, tigers, and monkeys they got to know there. Irina still visits the three gibbons she refers to as her children.

When funding fell through for the wildlife NGO, Irina and Gennadiy remained in Cambodia. Opening a restaurant was a means of supporting themselves for survival. Never formerly trained, Irina has learned her way around a kitchen admirably. Though she now has a team of Khmer cooks, who she has well schooled in the art of Russian-style cooking, she still pops in every once in a while to give a hand. Her method of “looking, tasting, and doing” has produced a menu of hearty fare with a home-style feel.

This is comfort food at its finest. Russian classics such as Borsch, a crimson coloured, savoury beetroot soup (US$4), and Beef Stroganoff (US$6.80), strips of beef doused in a mouth-watering, creamy sauce, will not fail to satisfy hungry bellies. The Pelminis (US$3.50), a generous portion of meat-filled dumplings eaten with vinegar and sour cream, keep several regulars coming back. The menu also includes dishes from former Soviet states, including Uzbekistan, Georgia, and Ukraine. Chicken à la Kiev (US$6.50), breaded, buttery chicken served with mashed potatoes, is one such delectable choice.

The secret to good Soviet cooking? According to Irina, it’s “our cold weather and our warm hearts.” Though Cambodia’s climate can’t compare with the snows of Siberia, a little food made with affection goes a long way anywhere.

So it was that Irina created another sanctuary of sorts. For many Cambodians who studied in Russia and parts of the former Soviet Union, Irina’s is a place to gather together and recall times past. Over the years, the restaurant has hosted reunion parties of old schoolmates, who end up singing and dancing to Russian folk songs late into the night.

Though her restaurant evokes remembrances of a far-off place, Irina has embraced life in Phnom Penh.

“Cambodia is our second homeland. Cambodia gave us possibilities to survive,” says Irina. “We love this country and we love the people.”

Irina Russian Restaurant, 15 Street 352, Tel: 012 833 524, open 11 AM to 11 PM.