The Riviera Grill and Sushi

So I know I just posted yesterday, but this one definitely deserves a blog. And it has to do with food and drink, as usual, but, again, it definitely deserves a blog. Annette and I took the big trip to Coney Island today- it's not officially open for the season yet (apparently it gets christened with a chocolate egg cream tomorrow), so there weren't any rides and not very many people, but we definitely got the feel of it. It was a fascinating study in culture and people. There were more Russians and Eastern Europeans there than I have ever seen in one place. It was like going to Russia, with a backdrop of a 1950's Brooklyn amusement park, the Atlantic Ocean, and the occasional fried clam/Coney Island hot dog stand that was open. We walked up and down the boardwalk, and were taunted by the "Shoot the Freak" man, who was yelling at everyone to come and "Shoot the Freak! Shoot him, he won't shoot you back!" in a very heavy Brooklyn accent. We didn't Shoot the Freak. Although some other booths attempted to draw us in, and I said if I was going to shoot anyone today, I would definitely pick to Shoot the Freak. Besides the Shoot the Freak man, it was so peaceful there. There were tons of old Russians just out in their Saturday finest strolling along the boardwalk of Coney Island and Brighton Beach.

Then it was time to find somewhere to eat. I was about ready to end the Coney Island/Russia Away From Russia extravaganza, and head back to Manhattan in search of Jamba Juice, but luckily Annette is a brave and determined traveler, always anxious to explore the area and try new things. So we walked down Surf Avenue and saw mostly boarded-up hot dog stands, empty arcades with music blaring, old Russian people, and the occasional young person in a track suit, who I'm pretty sure were members of the Russian Mafia.

And then we saw the gigantic sign for The Riviera Grill and Sushi.

Once I saw the dark entry way and the Russian sign which said something mysterious underneath a "Royal Card" sign, I was about ready to run, but we went in. Allow me to set the scene:

Picture a restaurant with the ambience of a five-star restaurant, combined with the ambience of the strip club on The Sopranos (minus the naked ladies, of course---but I wouldn't have been suprised if there was a special back room somewhere in that restaurant), a tacky sushi restaurant, and a clam shack. There was stuff hanging from every inch of the ceiling and walls- fish nets, plastics onions and other assorted vegetables, paper lanterns, red dragons, tin cans, wine bottles, all varieties of Russian memorabilia...

Then there were the painted murals....Cartoonish, Betty Boop-like, slightly deformed looking people chopping heads off fish, dancing at a crazy party, and generally carousing in extremely colorful paintings.

Then there were the TV's, which were playing something like a Russian American Idol or variety show or rock star special or something. Russian rock star after rock star would come out onto the tv stage, each wearing an outfit more interesting than the last, and dance with some mismatched back-up dancers to Eastern European pop music that was coming through the speakers.

Then there was the collage that was mounted on the wall. It had all the elements that were hanging on the walls and ceiling, but intensified and thrown into a very strange piece of art. If you know what crushed Budweiser and Heineken cans, Pringles cans, CD's, a cheese grater, and Russian dolls have in common, then you should let us know so we can even more greatly appreciate this piece of art. Our theory is that it's things that the owner of this restaurant loves, or else a combination of Russia and things found on the beach in Coney Island (which is covered in trash, mostly beer and vodka bottles...)

Then there was the bar. Part sushi bar (with authentic Japanese sushi chefs), part pretentious wine bar, and part espresso bar, complete with an espresso machine plastered with bumber stickers including a large "Mean People Suck" sticker.

So you think that's a lot to take in? We haven't even started eating yet!

When we walked in a dashing young Russian waiter looked at us like we were absolutely crazy to come in there, and we said, "Two, please??? (don't hit me)". Then he took a very long time to look at his yellow note pad and around the fairly empty restaurant (we were QUITE relieved to discover there were other people in the restaurant. We tried not to think about the fact that we were the only ones speaking English and probably the only ones who weren't part of "the family") and then finally pointed to a table for 6 right in front of us and said, "well we have this table or one on the patio". Ok. There's only two tables taken in the whole restaurant, but I guess this table for 6 will be perfect for the two of us...

The waiter hands us GIANT menus, and a separate sushi menu, and we start thumbing through and realize this is a very fancy restaurant. Like, no entree under $30 fancy. So we both order water.

But then we ordered soup too, don't worry. And I even got a glass of wine to make everyone (including myself) feel better.

The food, supposedly prepared by a celebrity chef in order to astound our culinary tastes, as we were meant to make our way through a "sinful" wine list and decadent dessert menu and extraordinary tea selection, was quite excellent. We got porcini mushroom soup and lobster bisque and basically licked our bowls (or bread bowls) clean, even though the attentive army of dashing waitstaff was eager to take our plates.

Once we were done, we were almost tempted to try a dessert, but ultimately accepted only an offer for more water from the waiter. Someone did bring Annette another empty plate though, and we're really not sure why. Maybe they just thought she needed something in front of her to feel happy or something.

Or maybe they wanted to give her another chance because we did make a scene by dropping a knife very loudly on the ground.

To top it all off, there was a TV in the bathroom and glowing "Royal Card" lights emblazoned on the bright red check holder.

I have never scene a place like this. It just made no logical sense. But it was perhaps the most way to end our Coney Island/Brighton Beach experience. Even if we didn't get to imbibe to "delectable, exotic cocktails" bragged about in the menu's welcome message....