Chapter 85 moscow restaurant

Moscow Restaurant, located on the west side of the exhibition hall in the west of Beijing, was quite popular in the 1950s and 1960s.Folks call it "Old Mo"—it's like calling the Soviet Union Big Brother, very intimate.At that time, young people in Beijing (mostly descendants of high-level cadres) regarded going to "Lao Mo" to eat Western food as an event full of honor, as if it was not a meal, but a pilgrimage close to a ritual.If you have never been to "Lao Mo", it is like a foreigner who came to Beijing and did not see the Tiananmen Gate, don't mention how regretful it is. "Old Mo" is simply conferring spiritual honors on the emerging young nobles in Beijing.

How delicious "Lao Mo"'s Western food is is unclear, but at that time Beijing's winter vegetables were almost exclusively Chinese cabbage, and the staple food was also coarse grains such as stick noodles and steamed buns.Sitting in a European-style dome building with floor-to-ceiling glass, wearing a bleached napkin on your chest, holding a heavy silver-plated knife and fork, slowly cutting fragrant fried pork chops or roast veal, and chewing appetizing gin or vodka in small bites. What a sunny day.Wang Shuode did write about the birthday party at the Moscow restaurant. The stubborn people back then drank too much wine, and when they went out, they generously spit out all the fried pork chops, butter baked goods, and butter and jam bread beside the fence and on the grass. superior.The only impression I had after getting drunk was: in the elephant room of the zoo over the fence, the baby elephant "Midura" given by Mrs. Bandaranaike was wagging its tail and grazing behind several tall African male elephants... A novel (it seems to be), seems to have written about eating ice cream and fruit bowls in the "Lao Mo" cold drink hall. The rule is to eat first and then count the dishes on the table to check out. The dishes were stuffed into the military yellow schoolbag on my chest, or simply thrown into the pond outside the window quietly... These are my vague memories of reading Wang Shuo's novels.I don't know if it has happened in real life?

In short, I am in Beijing, and when I pass by the semi-circular dome-shaped dark brown porch of the Moscow restaurant, I will have various associations.I am a foreigner on Chang'an Avenue, and "Lao Mo" is like another kind of life hidden in a high place, or the password of another kind of life to me.A passer-by can only leave a deep glimpse of the gilded door plaque of a time-honored shop on the roadside—but this glimpse can often penetrate time and space. "Old Mo" is easy to evoke the feeling of the dusty 1950s. Most of the diners who enter and leave under the carved doorpost are male and female diners wearing Lenin suits or Bragi.Where are they all now?The tweeter on the telegraph pole next to the corridor may be broadcasting the Russian version of "Night in the Suburbs of Moscow", and stepping on the marble steps of the Moscow restaurant feels like crossing borders.Oh, distant places, distant people and things.According to an acquaintance who came back from Russia in recent years, there is also a Beijing restaurant in the downtown area of ​​Moscow that mainly serves Northeast cuisine and Qilu flavor.The relationship between Moscow and Beijing is an international relationship, the relationship between the ruble and the renminbi.On the Jinshan Mountain in Beijing, eating Russian dishes (as the saying goes, "kaiyang meat"), I was in a fog, and I didn't know whether I was the host or the guest.

"Lao Mo" is close to the Beijing Zoo. After drinking and eating, buying a ticket to see animal relatives will add to the feeling that the winner is king.Or visit the Soviet-style exhibition hall marked with a red star hanging on the top of the minaret. There are often Chinese and Western furniture exhibitions in it, which is very lively. When I first came to Beijing from the south to make a living, I went to "Lao Mo" once.At that time, I earned a manuscript fee, but I mustered up the courage to invite a girl I had met not long ago.During the banquet, I drank a lot of dark beer and smoked half a box of "Zhongnanhai". My face was flushed and I talked a lot.The girl on the opposite side was always smiling, stirring the boiled milk tea with a small spoon, just listening, just listening.The girl was considerate of my meager fee, so she only ordered four dishes and one soup according to the conference standard. I can’t recall which side dishes, but I only remember that the borscht soup with tomato sauce was very warm.Years passed, and even the girl's appearance faded in my mind.I only remember her braids with orange-red bows, smiling, just listening, just listening...

Moscow restaurant, what more can I say?Is there any more relationship between me and "Old Mo"?That's all.Over the years, the dominance of "Lao Mo" has been gradually deprived, and Chaoshan Cantonese cuisine, American fast food and French cuisine are more popular in Beijing.It is rare to hear people call him "Old Mo".Even "Lao Mo" has added a civilian fast food and cold drink hall on the pavement facing the street. But sometimes, I still feel that time and space are in a trance, and I miss "Lao Mo". Beijing's poetry circles often gather. There is a man named Mo Fei who is good at poetry and is a little older. Everyone calls him "Old Mo".I listened and listened: Why is it so familiar.I never call him that.I think it's time for me to write a poem about the distant Moscow restaurant, too.What to write?

that's it.After the publication of this article, if I get the manuscript fee, I will visit "Lao Mo" again, and I will make this wish.