In 1990, the best meal I found in the then-Soviet capital was at Lefortovo Restaurant, situated across the street from the KGB prison of the same name. Tables were communal and you shared them with men in uniform with KGB-blue shoulder boards. For 33 cents, the customers received a substantial plate of mystery meat and potatoes along with a generic glass of fruit juice called Mors.

At that it was better than the uptown haunts where drunk commissars became drunker. There the food was recognizable as authentic Russian, but not always recognizable as food.

A Movie Set Meal

In the perestroika thaw that followed the Soviet deep freeze, the owners of Khlestakov discovered an unimaginable treasure--the entire movie set designed for the original Russian film based on Nikolai Gogol's The Inspector General. Even the costumes were in dress-rehersal condition. Forgotten in an obscure warehouse, this trove survived Stalin's purges, Hitler's seige and the Cold War.

Today the diner at Khlestakov sits in the provincial inn where Gogol's wanderer was mistaken for the Inspector General. Trompe l'oeil doors lead to imaginary rooms off the rich pine of the overhanging balcony. Samovars reflect a gaslamp flicker.

With servers in costumes from the movie, one expects that at any moment a boyar will burst through the the main portal in an ankle-length coat, shaking away the snow of the steppes and calling loudly for vodka and sturgeon. And he would not be disappointed. The sturgeon is boiled in fermented mead and served with horseradish ($25). The crawfish were cooked in kvass (cranberry cider) and served with beluga caviar ($23).

The appetizer selection had been carefully laid as if to materialize out of Gogol's Dead Souls: "On the table there appeared a white sturgeon, ordinary sturgeon, salmon, pressed caviar, fresh caviar, herring, smoked tongue and dried sturgeon."

"If you want to wait 20 minutes, we could fix pelmeni," enthusiastically offered our server. This dish, he explained, came from the frozen depths of Siberia, "where they would go out one day and kill, say, a bear and a moose and mix it all up."

To the bear and moose and whatever else might fall prey that day, the hunters would add onion and black pepper "and make little raviolis." From there it's simple. "Just set this package outside in the snow to freeze until you're ready to eat tomorrow or next month, and then boil the raviolis."

With an afterthought he added: "Of course our pelmini is a bit more sophisticated."

Our pelmini ($16) resembled meat-filled dumplings of a more citified nature than moose and bear. They were served with sour cream.

From Moscow to Mexico

The tacos ("tako," $18 for a plate of three with trimmings such as beans) were as good as I've eaten in Paris or Beijing and the salsa better. The burrito ("byppnto" $16) was tough but sizable.

The cook came from Veracruz, Mexico. He and I commiserated over the lack of proper cheese, without which Mexican food will never taste real, but he was happy to report that he could stoke the salsa to fiery heights and never receive complaints in the land of pepper vodka.

The server spoke great Spanish. "Cuban?" I asked. "No," he replied. "From Sierra Leone in Africa."

On the elevator "back to Russia," so to speak, I let my fancy run a bit wild: If a gringo got Montezuma's revenge from eating Mexican food in Moscow, would it be called the "Trotskys?"

Maxim's of Moscow & Other Offerings

The culinary map of Moscow has expanded to the Orient as well, with the new Bangkok Restaurant aptly capturing the spicy sauces from that country.

The seafood platters come across a little heavy at the Pirate Rrestaurant, but one can simply walk through a doorway into the Utopia Disco to lose pounds or step across the casino threshold to lose more than weight.

The Marriott Moscow Grand Hotel has dining options from basic to elegant, including a traditional Russian taverna for a selection of caviars and vodkas.

The Bistro fast-food chain may never bring McDonalds to its knees, but it affords Russian-styled fare.

Planet Hollywood has opened, but Sylvester Stallone can usually be found at Chuck Norris' gambling club located in one of Stalin's seven great skyscrapers.

Two of the best down-and-dirty Georgian restaurants are Guria and Mama Zoya's.

Fabulous Travel Recommends

For tips on adventurous eating the world over, plus information on unique customs and dining etiquette, be sure to check out Richard Sterling's fabulous book The Fearless Diner. Click for more information or to order through Amazon.com.