Address: 67 Han Asparuh
Tel: 980 38 83
980 33 03
Working hours:
8am-midnight
Credit cards:  accepted
 
Manastirska Magernitsa is a quiet restaurant in an antique house in the very centre of Sofia, just off Rakovski Street. The trees growing in front obscure the building – and very nearly the sign above the gate – from the street, and between the buffer and the general lack of traffic on Han Asparuh, the restaurant and garden are surprisingly quiet. Reservations for seating are recommended – especially for those wanting a specific area – but usually not necessary; however, the limited number of parallel parking spaces (a true luxury in the centre) are by reservation only.

Seating is available both in the garden – which is a partially covered patio, semi-enclosed by the stone wall that surrounds the premises – and inside the actual house. Those desiring more privacy – or a non-smoking room in winter – can usually find seats inside, but on a cool summer evening the garden is the place to be. The numerous trees provide shade and atmosphere; candles (which remained unlit, unfortunately) and monochrome paintings of various Bulgarian monasteries adorning the wall complete the effect. Inside, one finds clean, cosy rooms tastefully decorated with Bulgarian antiques and Bulgarian folk music playing at reasonable volume levels. Live music is also provided by Bulgarian folk musicians in traditional costumes who move between the inside rooms and the garden, and who will generally take requests.

As in many Bulgarian restaurants, the service is somewhat relaxed, but the staff on the whole is friendly and quite knowledgeable about the extensive menu, which is the true attraction of this restaurant. On its business cards, Manastirska Magernitsa advertises “161 Bulgarian monasteries. 161 Bulgarian dishes”. If anything, it seems like a low estimate, though I confess that I didn’t actually count: the menu is about 40 pages long, and the wine/beer/brandy/whisky/vodka list is another 20-plus. Humour, personal and cultural tidbits, and cooking instructions spice up detailed descriptions of dishes, such as the Drunken Rabbit in a Sober Monastery (about seven leva).

Sorting through the sheer volume of selections can be slightly intimidating, especially considering the liberal usage of somewhat older words to describe the more traditional dishes. (One Bulgarian friend confessed to me that there were words on the menu that even he didn’t know; another, when I attempted to describe the restaurant for her, had never heard of a magernitsa and emphatically denied that such a word existed in Bulgarian.) On the whole, however, such archaisms tend to add to the charm of the experience, and there is a fairly well-translated English menu for easier browsing or even just double-checking. Some of the esoteric humour of the menu tends to sound slightly odd in English, but despite a few awkward passages it’s quite understandable. It is also worth noting that nearly all salads and entrees can be ordered as either a small or large portion – I personally find that a small salad and large entree leaves just enough room for dessert.

After much deliberation, I settled on a salad called For the Son-in-Law from the Mother-in-Law (about four leva for the small portion): tomato wedges topped with crumbled sirene (Bulgarian feta-like cheese), surrounded by shredded carrots and cabbage and garnished with olives, a boiled egg and a hot pepper; my friend had a shopska salata (about six leva for a large portion). For the main course, we had a rabbit dish called Tender Scallops of the ‘Long-Ear’ (about seven leva) – scallops of rabbit meat served on a bed of small potatoes and tomato sauce on a wooden platter, with a dollop of yoghurt and small bowl of white sauce for alternate dipping – and a Haidouk’s Meatball (about three leva), a spiced, grilled ground meat patty with cheese. All the food was excellent, though I have had other dishes on previous visits (such as any of the salmon dishes or the aforementioned Drunken Rabbit) that I liked more. For desert, I had a Drunken Banana – a banana with a flambeed cognac-glaze sauce, garnished with fresh fruit, whipped cream, a scoop of ice cream and a cocktail umbrella.

The only real downside to the restaurant is the price – the bill for the two of us came to 46 leva, including the tip, and this was with only bottled water to drink. Still, while slightly higher than average, it is by no means unreasonable considering the quality and variety of the food and the cultural charm of the setting.