The restaurant critic cruises down Avenue 12

The room that belonged to Deti na Kuhne at the Moskovsky market — separate from all the corners, high-ceilinged, standing on its own — has been taken over by the people from Avenue 55 on Moskovsky Prospekt. No surprise there. The surprise is that they've done it as a fixed-price place, a format that stopped being a magnet for business at least a year ago. Brave on both counts: the concept, and taking the biggest room in a market that isn't exactly full — I count seven empty units with their shutters down.

Light, airy, easy to read. I like it. The hookahs are behind glass, and for the first time in many, many hookah places I won't hold the smoke against anyone: smoke as much as you like! There is a summer terrace, there is a second level, and there is a proper grown-up restaurant lavatory of its own — thank you, Anna Sotnikova! Wonderful seating, and I don't know whom to praise (Anna again?): the banquettes are springy and anatomical, more comfortable than chairs — that's only the third time I've written that sentence this year. If there had been a label on the side I'd have photographed the model number for you, my dear restaurateurs of this city.

A flat two thirds of the menu is 350 ₽, and the remaining third — twenty dishes — costs more: 450–900 ₽. Breakfasts are 290 ₽, and 50 g of bread for 100 ₽ we shall not count as a departure from the theme. Don't expect a firm direction: modern Russian cuisine. Thank you for the absence of sushi and khachapuri — but there is tom yum, borscht, burgers and carbonara. Enough to choose from.

Cheap food, and drink prices that are very high by democratic standards and high for an ordinary restaurant. Lemonade, a single glass, 500 ₽ — madness. Why, alongside plain Russian water, is there Italian San Benedetto at up to 720 ₽? And if so, why not Saint-Géron, to wash your food down at 350 ₽ a go? Tea from 390 ₽, beer from 350 ₽ — I took the "royal" one at a full 400 ₽ — cider from 600 ₽. I understand this is where a restaurant earns its money. I don't play these games. Coffee 220 ₽, wine from 450 ₽. Fine. Such is the financial model.

"A shot for a review on Yandex or 2GIS" — I have stopped believing every positive review of a restaurant, good or bad, anywhere on the innernets: they're written for shots. But in the negative ones, two complaints come up most: the 86 list and the long waits. It isn't fast, that's a fact, but fifteen minutes between courses at a quiet Sunday lunch I call normal. And everything was available; nothing was denied me at all. Kitchen discipline, one month in.

Tuna tartare with guacamole (350 ₽) looks like a 950 ₽ dish. Like a celebration. And it tastes super. The oil takes the lead, a sweetish tone over the pleasant heat puts the fish first — you eat it as an Achievement of the Chef. Usually what lands in front of me is cotton-wool fish with no flavour, hidden behind its garnishes. I'd suggest giving the guacamole some acidity, any at all, for balance and for honesty — but I don't want to interfere. WOW.

Salad with duck breast and pumpkin (350 ₽). "On spinach," said the young woman, having previously said "on romaine." I'm delighted all the same: a mix, iceberg with spinach, thick cream cheese at the bottom on top of a second sauce round the rim, pumpkin seeds and baked pumpkin, and a decent amount of properly cooked breast. You can pick holes in it, or you can eat it with pleasure. It's probably simpler in some way than the ones I eat at 850–950 ₽, but the value for money is excellent.

Goulash soup (350 ₽) isn't what I'd call hot, nor especially fragrant with paprika, but it is a tasty, sensible meat soup. More interesting than homemade, simpler than the best goulashes. No complaints here. And the meat, completely tender, gets nothing but praise.

Tom yum with prawns (350 ₽). "It will be spicy, we can add coconut—" DON'T! Not luxury, but no worse than half the tom yums of my life, the ones at 780–990 ₽. Lighter than usual, but with exactly the right register, as sour as it is hot. Two big prawns, mushrooms (plenty of them), a scattering of cherry tomatoes, well-cooked rice. I like it — and the next table, ordinary folk, ate the lot and then complained to the manager: "has this got vinegar in it?" Do ordinary folk know nothing sour except vinegar? Nobody argued with them; it was taken off their bill. It left such a bad taste that afterwards I quietly told the manager myself: change nothing, listen to nobody.

Fillet of plaice with olives, cherry tomatoes and capers (350 ₽). In one week I've eaten plaice in three places: good or bad, plenty or little, at 800 ₽ and at 950 ₽, and I've seen it on menus at 1,700 ₽ — dare I compare? There is no comparison. A gorgeous piece of clean, tender fillet: "I could do with some fish" made flesh. A sauce you want to lick clean, in all its full Mediterraneanness. Simply bravo for the price against the quality.

From the SPECIAL section: pork ribs with smashed cucumbers (600 ₽). Every other pause was fine; this one was twenty minutes after the previous dish. But. Gorgeous ribs, top three of the year including everything I've had at 890 to 1,390 ₽. They come off the bone by themselves, your fingers rejoice, they are appetising, saturated with flavour inside the meat rather than a glaze covering up the boredom. Special thanks for serving one whole block instead of dried-out slices. A hit. The potato is potato. The smashed cucumbers aren't even lightly pickled. Never mind. Order them, please! A wonder.

They surprised me. No, I understand the format, and I even understand who it is aimed at, in a market where both tom yum and salads cost at least twice as much. Guests with their own bottled water asked for three glasses and were given three glasses. Whether that is good or bad I still haven't decided. Nor whether the place has a future. On a weekend afternoon, around one, I sat alone; on a weekday evening two thirds of the seats were taken and guests kept coming. A pity I praised the hookahs too soon: you can smell them ten metres away, because the door is held open for the staff. The service I praised so warmly on the first day is just as pleasant: if they slip up a little, forgetting a spoon for the soup, they apologise so sincerely. But the 86 list caught up with me in the end: no vitello tonnato in the evening. Surely not the only dish off the menu? "Only one, and you found it." And I believe it. I found it! And I want all of this to survive. Honest prices, honest people — and pleasant ones at that.