Hill: spending money on restaurants is a patriotic duty

The goal is to entertain and inform. The texts on food always read well because we all eat (and also the texts on perfumes: because we all breathe too).

Writing about food is one of the five key ways that all writers gather an audience. The other four are: 1) mysticism, intrigue and mystery (“what follows”), 2) a quick sequence of events, 3) the reader’s self-identification (when a person recognizes that it is him or her) and 4) sex. All in all, here is a free textbook on how to write grading literature.

So I keep writing about restaurants. Do you know what you really need today? Normal. For restaurants to work, for customers to go, for money to move, for a good mood to return. Therefore, spending money on surviving restaurants is a patriotic duty for all of us, because otherwise it will be very bad: already closed independent dining rooms are being grabbed by mesh feeders, which are successfully accustoming the office plankton to spam cheap microwaved. This is the worst consequence of the crisis: those without shame or conscience survive more easily. They will quickly adapt and carry a tip-free meal replacement that generates a loveless minimum wage.

We went to a restaurant in the old town and very close to the Vilnius school that nurtured me and nurtured my talents. “Trinidad” means trinity, the name has nothing to do with eating (well, maybe unless I can think of a three-course lunch), and one I knew a long time ago, but I didn’t go because I thought it was just a Pub.

The rooms are fantastic, just look at those stairs in the photo. The church has always been able to build itself well. I immediately feel more serious when I eat in some of the rooms of the old monastery. It helps digestion.

The menu is very safe, I would call it that. All the dishes from a modern repertoire but not too revolutionary. What is not bad: normality is also good, now we all need it more. And dishes, much less for a very conservative flavor, if you do it without mistakes, that’s a lot.

Starting with bread, self-baked, with smooth whipped butter and coarse-grained salt, things were fine.

The oysters were good, cleanly open, and smelled of the sea: even the whole table was covered in that longed-for smell of salt water and wind. Here it is, a sense of the good life that has returned.

The scallops were great, like the tartar, absolutely everything was cooked without mistakes (the scallops are extremely easy to fry, there are fifteen seconds to eat and you chew gum instead of delicacy), but the compositions were overloaded with additional ingredients (and snacks) Also): just not on the sides and in the garnishes, it seemed like the chef wanted to show how much variety there was in his fridge: radishes, leaves, apples, capers, shallots, cucumbers, and pepper slices. Everything was a lot, everything was carefully presented, but it gives a feeling of overwork. It is very important to be able to stop on time.

And yet: some of the extra servings were repeated in both snacks and side dish main dishes, and even in the soft and cozy, creamy Jerusalem artichoke soup. Jerusalem artichokes are the type of tubers I met in my childhood, because my father was, among other things, prone to botany and growing all kinds of things for the family, the stranger the better (unfortunately, he never got involved in the Indian cannabis). Chicory salad appeared on my table even when other people in Soviet Lithuania didn’t even imagine they were edible vegetables.

The fish (one of the two main dishes) was fried perfectly, and the tempura bites worked well, and the chorizo ​​cubes, but you also had to stop here. I was even upset when I found that sign of Lithuanian cleanliness: a cherry tomato, which also had too much acidity.

The bull’s cheek, the new classic of our decade, was roasted to perfection, but here too it was overloaded with the complications of the trimmings. I’m not saying anything wrong, you can elevate everything a little more easily by simplifying.

Here’s a tip for writers: Check the text you just wrote and delete the sentence you are most proud of, and the text will be even better. I would advise the chef to cut the complications of the dishes in half and they will shine with minimalist elegance.

For this early dinner, we paid the two EUR 110, the average salary for a non-average person, and another tip. Maybe we could get cheaper if we don’t have oysters, but I wouldn’t stop you from living beautifully. We have fulfilled our patriotic duty with the Homeland.

Four geese out of five.

Trinidad, Vilniaus st. 30 years, Vilnius. Tel. +370 666 74777. Facebook profile: https://m.facebook.com/pages/category/Restaurant/The-Trinity-Bar-Restaurant-577233419045755/ Website: http://www.trinityvilnius.lt

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