WHO needs the Trans-Siberian Railroad to transport them to a good Russian meal? We caught an express ride to borscht and blini right in the centre of Sofia.

Gara za Dvama (Train Station for Two) immediately intrigued us with its fun - and thoroughly detailed - train-car ambience. When we pulled the narrow sliding-glass door to enter the restaurant, we were instantly shown to our dining compartment for the night, a cramped but cosy green-vinyl booth. Although the place can't hold more than 25 people, it makes the best of its small space. The walls are papered with scenes from Russian locales, providing a nice window out on to the world while we listened to Russian tunes playing overhead.

We hadn't even ordered when the waiter brought us complimentary glasses of decent champagne. On the Russian and Bulgarian only menu (an English version is on the way), we found a good selection of refreshing salads with which to start our journey. The vinaigrette salad delighted us with its cubed beets, potatoes and green onions spiced with dill. Like every plate we spied in the restaurant, it was attractively arranged. The Ukrainian borscht was not too heavy with tender chunks of pork and just enough dollops of cream. We also noticed half a dozen kinds of fish appetisers on the menu, including some moderately priced caviar.

One of the nicest things about this restaurant is that the appetisers can qualify as a full meal. We enjoyed the chebureki, three big ravioli-like pockets of fried dough filled with mincemeat. The perogies (a bargain at 1 lev each) won us over with their lightness. Here these traditional Russian dumplings seem to be baked, not fried, so they're not so leaden. And the ones we custom-ordered, stuffed with onions, carrots and cabbage, are a good choice for vegetarians. (Although the meatless menu here is slim, what little the restaurant does offer should satisfy you.) Our only ho-hum selection was the blini with jam, which was nearly indistinguishable from its Bulgarian counterpart - the rolled pancakes called polachinki. Any grandma in your apartment block could do better.

We topped off the night with a brick of apple pie, an inexplicable offering in a Russian restaurant. It would have been un-American of us to resist, however, and in fact it ended up being the perfect crumbly, cinnamony comfort food with which to disembark from Gara za Dvama.

Our tab for three diners was just 27 leva. But maybe what's most impressive here is that the service is anything but train-like: It's smooth, fast and friendly, and entirely warrants the 10 per cent fixed gratuity. For example, when we asked our waiter for a soda straw, he offered: "Blue, red, yellow or green?" And when the table next to us tried to pull out a cigarette, he didn't miss a beat. "Sorry," he teased. "This is a no-smoking compartment!"