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| Blair and John are dolled up and ready to hit the town. |
Recently, my partner, John, and I and our fabulous friend Blair decided to take a little vacation close to home. We wanted to travel somewhere far flung without leaving Brooklyn. Our solution? We booked a Saturday night excursion to the Rasputin restaurant-cum-nightclub, a Russian outpost that truly carries you from Brooklyn’s slightly honky-tonk Coney Island Avenue to the wild, wild west that is Moscow. What an evening!
Having no idea what to expect, John, Blair and I were in for a treat. We arrived at the massive restaurant and immediately the waiter plunked down a bottle of vodka and mixers. What’s not to love? Ready for an adventure, this dynamic trio was off and running!
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| The over-the-top fare at Rasputin. The cooking was surprisingly good. We loved the lobster. |
As Blair dug into the potato salad and chicken Kiev and the vodka flowed, John and I eyed our fellow Russian diners dolled up in sky-high Christian Louboutin stilettos and YSL get-ups. The crowd was ready to cut a rug! These Russian expats can dance, and as the seemingly only non-Russian speakers in the joint, we decided to keep up with the Joneses—or is it the Jonesakovs? We hit the dance floor and shook it like nobody’s business.
The waiter poured a few more shots, and the floorshow took to the floor. Wow! Surreal. Like nothing we had ever seen before or perhaps will ever see again. But it was still fabulous. Chorines, neon violins, Carmen Miranda types, over-the-top costumes—It was like Burlesque meets Showgirls. Especially after another bottle of vodka.
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| Can-can dancers hit the dance floor at Rasputin. |
Next time you are in New York and seek something a little different, give Rasputin a whirl.