Address: 1 Prof Assen Zlatarov
Working hours: 10am - 11pm
Tel: 02/ 943 36 85

My experience at Slavyani consisted of a series of false starts. But don't hold that against the place. Because my false starts consisted of dropping by for dinner, only to discover there were no seats. The place was packed full.

Set on the eastern edge of the Doctors' Garden neighbourhood in Sofia, Slavyani in some way mirrors the popular chain restaurants dotting the capital. It has solid fare, lots of beers and alcohol, a spacious interior dining room and a long outside dining area. It lacks the industrial feel of its competitors, however. That is, even when chain restaurants are housed in completely different buildings and neighborhoods, they feel as if they were all the same.

Slavyani feels like a high-end mehana. The air is clean, not smoke-filled. One senses one is in a restaurant, not an old kitchen with chairs someone has decided to call a restaurant in order to make some cash, an impression that sometimes comes over me in many run-of-the-mill mehanas I've visited.

Most interestingly, the wait staff at Slavyani is incredibly attentive. The handful of times I've eaten there, I've felt downright odd as our waitress cruised by, peering over my shoulder, ready to ask if I needed another drink or was done with my meal. Perhaps this attentiveness is a function of the restaurants popularity: "Get `em in, get `em out", so to speak. Its origins are not my interest. I was just happy to not have to wait 10 minutes to ask for cream for my coffee.

Recently my friend ordered a Slavyani Salad, which, like many Bulgarian salads, seemed to be a shopska loaded with, well, other things, like mushrooms and smoked chicken. She also ordered a load of fried potatoes that were a bit heartier than ordinary French fries. She asked for her salad dressing on the side and further asked for chili sauce for her potatoes. Such made-to-order requests sometimes take a minute to register here in Sofia. At Slavyani, they took it in stride. Total cost of her meal: 10 leva.

My companion thought the salad was blah. Her potatoes she ate with gusto, however. Her only complaint was the chili sauce, a complaint that doesn't really involve Slavyani directly. Practically every Bulgarian restaurant serves chili sauce. But to Americans like my companion and me (especially Americans who spent time in California), Bulgaria's version of chili sauce is more like the condiment one finds accompanying Chinese takeout. Thick and syrupy, not especially hot or spicy. Someone could make millions by importing Tabasco sauce into this country.

I ordered a green salad and pork filet. I know — boring. But, in continuing with the theme that Slavyani is a high-end mehana, I must say that I've eaten by now hundreds of pork filets in Bulgaria and Slavyani's did not fit into the black-and-banged-like-shoe-leather variety. It was thick and juicy, not overcooked. With my two Staropramen beers, my meal cost 11 leva.

A word on Staropramen. Perhaps this observation simply stems from my recent visit to Prague, where I drank loads of great Czech beer. Or perhaps I'm correct and have a point when I say that it seems like Staropramen has raised its profile in Sofia, where it seems to be served more often than even a year ago. That being said, the Staropramen here of course is unlike the creamy, heavenly Staropramen I drank in Prague. The same difference might be found between Guinness in Dublin and Guinness outside the Emerald Isle. Still, the more Staropramen flowing through our veins, the better.