Restaurateur Igor Prikhodko: Has anyone ever brought the Moon down from the sky for their guests? We were the first.

Another project you’re currently working on is the “Dashi” restaurant at the Nima museum center. From what I can tell, it’s going to be a very distinctive concept as well. Could you tell us a bit about it?

We’re creating this project together with sculptor Dashi Namdakov and my business partner, brand chef Andrey Shmakov—he’s in charge of the gastronomic side. Dashi is one of the greatest contemporary sculptors. His works are displayed all over the world, from Transbaikalia to London. He travels extensively with exhibitions and has participated in the Shanghai Biennale. He has a very unique identity, his own vision and approach to art.

I met Dashi by chance—he came to Share Bistro, liked it, and asked for my contact. We met, talked, and the idea for the restaurant was born. We’re building it at the Nima museum center. It will be a multidisciplinary space—a Russian-Buryat restaurant, an exhibition area featuring Dashi’s sculptures and other works (painting, sculpture, ceramics, furniture), as well as a zone for performances and immersive experiences.

We want this space to be alive and to serve as a kind of bridge between gastronomy and art. At its core is shamanism, the magic of the place—where a person can feel a certain energy. If you see Dashi’s sculptures in person, they are incredibly distinctive, with something magical and hypnotic about them. They seem to activate the viewer. At the center of the space will be a natural monolith—a raw piece given by the earth—3.5 meters high, with unique patterns. All of this creates the feeling of a ritual. At the same time, guests will come and order buuzy, bukhler, and dishes from Russian cuisine—prepared by Andrey Shmakov. It will be incredibly tasty, yet very approachable food. There will be an open kitchen with a large grill, steamers, and an oven for baking flatbreads—a transition from the primitive to the modern.

How did this concept evolve?

When Dashi and I were discussing the concept, we watched the ballet Quatre together. The first act begins in the foyer of the Paris Opera. We decided that our space should feel similar, so that guests can immediately enter into an unusual, engaging experience. Then Andrey Shmakov and I traveled to Buryatia, observed how locals live, and studied their traditions and authentic cuisine. Nomadic cuisine is actually quite rough, so we need to make it understandable and adaptable for a city audience. We don’t want to stray far from authenticity, but I understand that in Moscow people won’t eat blood sausage, simply because many are more sensitive. Or take lamb cooked on red-hot stones in a special cauldron under high pressure—everything inside sizzling, smoking, boiling and roasting. Or tarbagan—a marmot considered a delicacy, found in the степpe, feeding on dew, with exceptionally pure meat.

Is it hunted?

Yes, hunting it is allowed at certain times. In Buryatia, many products are obtained naturally—through hunting and gathering—something urban residents have long forgotten.

What was your expedition to Buryatia like?

Buryatia is an incredibly beautiful region. It consists of three natural zones—steppe, mountains, and forest—and we’re incorporating this idea into the concept of “Dashi.” You walk along and smell the warm аромат of thyme—it makes you want to drink the air. Then you go to the river, where locals gather, talk to them, and see how deeply they respect their culture and religion. For them, everything is alive. When you arrive in a place, you must make an offering to the spirits. That’s why there are always small “gifts” in the car—rice, sweets, or something else. You greet, thank, and ask permission from the spirit of the place to continue.

The Buryats strongly believe in signs and live by their traditions. The first time I came, beautiful birds were flying above me. I told Dashi about it, and he said, “That’s good. It’s a good sign. The land accepts and welcomes you.” The second time, when I came with Andrey Shmakov, we visited a datsan in Dashi’s native village, Ukurik. Two cranes were circling very low above us, calling out—I had never seen cranes so close before. It was definitely a very good sign. It’s hard to put into words—you have to experience it. Of course, we’ll bring part of this experience into “Dashi.” It will be a space that speaks the language of culture. We will communicate with our guests through that culture, that hospitality, and that food which exists in Buryatia.

Do you think a Russian-Buryat restaurant has a chance in a big city, given the intense competition and familiar concepts like Italian cuisine?

Absolutely. Italian restaurants are popular because the food is simple and understandable. Healthy, vegetarian salad bars don’t do as well here because it’s cold—people want warm, hearty, carbohydrate-rich food. That’s why we love cutlets, navy-style pasta, dumplings. At “Dashi,” there will be buuzy (also called pozy)—essentially the same family as dumplings, khinkali, manty—meat wrapped in dough. But when the filling is made from a mix of roe deer, veal, and herbs, and you taste it, it’s like an explosion—and that’s what makes you want to come back.

Moreover, Buryatia is part of Russia, yet essentially another world—7–8 hours away by flight. We want to bring that world into a large, multicultural city. I have a hypothesis that people today have a strong desire to dig deeper, to connect with their roots. Today’s guest wants authenticity, not just another Italian restaurant. We could say we serve Siberian or Buryat cuisine, but we’re creating Russian-Buryat cuisine—a national cuisine of one country that expresses a cultural code. This restaurant is intended not only for locals but also for tourists. I’m sure it will resonate strongly with guests from China. Moreover, I plan to scale this project internationally—launch it, for example, in Shanghai. It’s a highly scalable, powerful concept that will carry our language, our values, and show the world that Russia is a vibrant, creative, gastronomically rich, incredibly вкусная restaurant country.

Who is your guest?

They are people with a sense of authenticity, with their own worldview. People who are about being, not appearances—who value substance over image, who are not performing but living. My guest is someone for whom food alone is not enough—they seek meaning, beauty, care, love, lightness, clarity—someone who wants a revolution of the familiar.