Moscow has the money, St. Petersburg has the pride – Inside a rivalry shaped by history, snobbery, and two very different ideas of home
Russia’s most award-winning restaurant is leaving St. Petersburg for Moscow, and the reaction tells you rather more about the relationship between the country’s two capitals than it does about food.
For eight years, we Petersburgers have taken pride in Birch, a celebrated fine-dining eatery, twice named Russia’s best and renowned for its inventive tasting menus and notoriously hard-to-get tables. Of course, most of us stopped going there long ago, once it became largely the preserve of visitors from Moscow, because locals are not generally eager to spend $200 per person on dinner, which is roughly what the basic set menu with non-alcoholic drinks would have cost this year. You also had to pay in advance for a reservation, often months ahead.
A Moscow friend merely laughed when I mentioned the prices. “That’s reasonable,” she said. “Average for the market, really.”
There, in miniature, you have the difference between the two cities.
Birch was brilliant, but increasingly not for us and then came the news that it was closing and moving to Moscow.
I won’t speculate here about the business reasons, given that’s a conversation for people who take fine dining rather more seriously than I do, but what interested me was the reaction of Petersburgers who had never eaten at Birch and had no intention of doing so.
They were genuinely upset because, apparently, Birch had become something like the Hermitage Museum or the fountains at the Tsar’s old Peterhof. We may not visit them every week, but we know they’re there, they belong to us, and we are proud of them.
The restaurant worked in much the same way, while you might consider spending that much on dinner absurd, it was comforting to know that you could. Better still, you could complain that “those Muscovites” had taken all the tables, as though you had spent every morning desperately refreshing the booking page.
Now comes the ultimate betrayal as Birch is defecting to Moscow, our ancient rival.
The comments beneath reports of the closure were wonderfully predictable, such as the owner had gone chasing Moscow money and he had been somebody special in Petersburg, but Moscow was full of people like him and let’s see how much they appreciate him there.
The resentment was unmistakable because we simply don’t like it when somebody chooses Moscow over us.
It happens with almost everything, Petersburgers compare restaurants, museums, architecture, public transport, the pace of life and even our respective words for kerbs and needless to say, in this invisible competition St. Petersburg wins almost every category. At least according to St. Petersburg.
Sometimes I suspect that the entire rivalry exists mainly in our heads, in that we are certainly competing with Moscow, but whether Moscow knows it is competing with us is another question.
Russian writers were comparing the two cities long before any of us arrived. In imperial times, when St. Petersburg was the capital, it could afford to look down on Moscow, but although the capital moved more than a century ago, a certain Petersburg snobbery survived the transfer remarkably well.
Three hundred years of self-importance aren’t easily erased, but there may be another reason for the difference.
Moscow often feels like a city of arrivals as people move there from every corner of Russia to build careers, make money and seize opportunities, yet many never quite decide that Moscow is home.
When I worked there, I was amazed by colleagues who had lived in the capital for five or seven years but barely knew the city. They still regarded Perm, Krasnodar or wherever they had come from as home and even after 15 or 20 years in Moscow, they would announce that they were “going home” for the holidays.
St. Petersburg works differently, if you live here for a couple of years you begin, almost involuntarily, to become a Petersburger and soon enough you are complaining about Muscovites arriving with their money, occupying the best tables and theater seats, clogging Nevsky Prospekt and pushing up property prices because you have been assimilated.
Perhaps that old rivalry is now approaching its natural end as Moscow and St. Petersburg are becoming closer in practical terms every year, and the planned high-speed railway could eventually reduce the journey between their centers to around two hours.
For affluent residents of both cities, that future has practically arrived already, with a favorite restaurant moving 650 kilometers away an inconvenience rather than a tragedy as lunch in Petersburg and dinner in Moscow is no longer an especially exotic proposition.
For everyone else, perhaps the closer relationship between Russia’s two great cities will eventually bring other benefits and maybe some Moscow salaries will migrate north, while perhaps some Petersburg habits will travel south.
And perhaps, once Moscow and St. Petersburg are connected so closely that the distinction begins to blur, there will finally be no reason for envy or those familiar sidelong glances and we will become one enormous, harmonious urban family.
Although, naturally, St. Petersburg will still be the more beautiful part of it.
This article was first published by the online newspaper Gazeta.ru and was translated and edited by the RT team
