Fodor's Expert Review Mari Vanna

Find the unmarked entrance, ring the right doorbell, and you will be taken back half a century to an idealized Soviet home. It could be Red Army Day, the way the tables are garnished with white cloth and water goblets—and the flour-and-water baranki crackers on the table evoke bygone scarcity. Stolid, apron-clad waitresses glide from table to table delivering beet salads, mushroom soup, and other nostalgic fare. Wooden shelves and the bric-a-brac on them—glass cookie jars, an old radio, a deer figurine—make this place feel truly homey. The experience isn't entirely homespun, though—Mari Vanna has branches as far afield as New York and Los Angeles.