Erevan
29 Otets Paisii Street, Plovdiv
Tel: 089/ 865 88 39
Open: every day, 8.00 to 22.00
Credit cards: yes

Two thoroughly enjoyable lunches at what is still colloquially referred to as the “Armenian club” in Plovdiv led to animated discussions – and further reading – on the complexities of the history of the Armenian community in Bulgaria.

As with any “ethnic” restaurant, it is a recommendation in itself that members of the community eat there, and this is certainly true of the place that now terms itself Erevan (named for the country's capital). Apart from the passing trade who come to sample the fare, the Armenians who continue to patronise the place lend Erevan something of a clubby atmosphere, an impression reinforced by their effusive reception by the host, a reminder that the place dates back decades into the socialist era. That there are only 10 tables, with varying numbers of chairs, intensifies the sense of intimacy.

It must be said that the owner of the restaurant himself adds to this sense of community. He might be the one to take your order, strike up a conversation on the current state of politics, or lend a wry comment about a given country’s not-so-glorious social realities.

A seat at Erevan means a glimpse into part of the remaining ethnic diversity within Bulgaria and, naturally, a taste of Armenian cuisine.

Given that Armenian cuisine is diverse and that it has been enriched by a wide range of influences over the generations, the menu at Erevan is not fully representative, as the restaurant is a small-scale operation. However, every station of the menu from salads to the eight soups to puddings has some traditional Armenian items.

Of the 18 salads, our visit in May this year made us fans of a shared dish of the generous Erevan salad (eggs, jerked meat, roast aubergine, tomato, cucumber, roast red pepper, stuffed grape leaves, costing eight leva) and we ordered it again on our second visit. While there in February, we relished the freshness of the variety of herbs in the seafood salad. Portions are small, but the quality of ingredients is unquestionable.

A bonus, during our visit in early June, was that when I asked to order a rakiya, the waitress offered the alternative of a home-made rakiya, which was eagerly accepted.

Elsewhere on the menu, which is printed in Bulgarian and English (we ordered in Bulgarian on both occasions so I apologise for failing to test whether the staff understood English), Armenian specialities include mantu (stuffed pastry and chicken meat, 7.80 leva), keshkek (a meat-porridge dish, in this case with chicken, 3.20 leva) and masis pancake (chicken breasts, mushrooms, picked cucumber, herbs). Somewhat more standard items include trout and carp, both 6.80 leva. On both occasions, we worked our way through a number of the choices, including the masis pancake and a lunch menu offering of chicken with spinach, and on neither occasion could I resist the temptation of the anush abur, listed as consisting of grain, dried fruit and rose water, although it has to be allowed that there are some minor variations on the recipe depending on location. I was intrigued to read elsewhere the assertion that anush abur is a traditional dish for Armenians at Christmas. Having accompanied our second meal with a carafe of house wine (four leva for 500ml), there was no question about yielding to another temptation, to round off with Armenian cognac (4.60 leva) and Armenian coffee, the latter, of course without wishing to start one of those Balkan eternal arguments, rather resembling what is known elsewhere as Turkish coffee, with the qualification that at Erevan restaurant, it is highly recommended.

Throughout both meals, service was swift, efficient and friendly, noise levels low enough to make conversation easy, and whatever else of Armenian spirit and tradition remains alive in Bulgaria, it was not in the music, unless there is a genealogist out there who will show that Sinatra was of Armenian descent.