I had never been to Altai before. Although, to be honest, I had wanted to travel around Russia more for quite some time.
Sometime in July, my friend, chef Anton Kovalkov, called me and invited me to take part in the first “Tsvet Altaya” festival together with several other chef friends. It was a great group: Igor Grishechkin — now at Mashenka, previously at COCOCO; Fatima Saleh, pastry chef at Sartoria Lamberti; Anton; Sergey, chef of the restaurant Vo Sadu Li, V Ogorode; and me. Igor and I had even met once at the Sanduny baths. And meeting someone at the banya, as you can imagine, already implies a certain level of trust.
I have admired Anton as a professional for a long time. His breadth of experience, knowledge, travels and stages. He was the first Russian chef to intern at Noma in Copenhagen, something that was even captured in a documentary about the restaurant. I always enjoy being around people I can learn something from. So I didn’t have to think long before accepting the invitation. Each of us brought our own ideas and dishes. Some ingredients came with us from Moscow, others we sourced locally. Together, we put together a tasting menu and an à la carte menu.
Our home for those days was Grushevyy Tsvet, a small boutique hotel on the banks of the Katun River. And I immediately want to thank the entire team for their warmth, hospitality and the level of care they surrounded us with from the very first day. We all stayed together in one cottage. I don’t think I need to explain what happens when several chefs spend a few days living under the same roof. Some of the jokes reached a level I definitely wouldn’t risk publishing here :)
Somehow, though, we managed to fit everything in. We got up early, went to the gym, cooked, hosted dinners and still found time for the outdoors: jet skis, quad bikes, hiking in the mountains, the banya and the Katun. Before this trip, I had never ridden a jet ski or a quad bike. A jet ski on a mountain river is a completely different story. The water is around eight degrees Celsius, you’re standing up, flying across the river, jumping over the waves, and at some point you simply stop thinking about the fact that you could end up in that water. An incredible feeling.
On the quad bikes, we rode deep into the forest and came across horses grazing completely free. At some point, you catch yourself thinking that none of this is happening somewhere far abroad. It is right here, at home. And then there was the banya. Afterwards, we plunged into the mountain river. Considering the temperature of the water, the word “plunged” sounds considerably calmer than it looked in reality.
But probably the strongest impression from this trip wasn’t the jet skis, the mountains or even the Katun itself. It is rare for a large and very different group of people to immediately find themselves on the same wavelength. The chefs, the hotel team, the team from Vo Sadu Li, V Ogorode, our guests, the people who came to film the dinner, the creative team — no one existed separately. We worked together, ate together, joked, relaxed, went somewhere, and then went back to work.
Everyone was open to what was happening and grateful for the place we found ourselves in. A separate thank you to our guests. To those who travelled specifically to Grushevyy Tsvet for those days, and to those who were already staying at the hotel and decided to spend those evenings with us. For a chef, it always means a lot when someone entrusts you with several hours of their time and is willing to share in something you have created.
Perhaps that is why those two days felt so full.
Of course, I occasionally shot something on my iPhone. But I almost always travel with a camera. This time I brought several black-and-white films with different sensitivities. And only now, with the film developed and the photographs ready, do I feel as though I have returned there once again.
The series is black and white, but for me, somehow, it feels incredibly vivid. Perhaps that is exactly how Altai stayed in my memory.
The cold Katun. Horses in the mountains. Quad bikes. A house full of chefs. The kitchen. The banya. Dinner. A lot of laughter. And ladybirds.
That, by the way, is a separate story.
In September, we happened to be there during their mass migration. Until then, a ladybird had always been, for me, a harmless little creature that lands on your hand, you make a wish, and let it fly away. After Altai, my attitude changed a little.
When there are thousands of them around you, you start looking at this little symbol of good luck rather differently. And after being bitten, you also discover that they are, in fact, quite effective predators.
I increasingly find myself thinking about how many places in Russia we keep putting off visiting because they seem close enough — there will always be time. And then you fly for just a few hours and suddenly find yourself among mountains, icy rivers, forests and a completely different rhythm of life.
So I sincerely recommend Altai.
And once again, a huge thank you to the entire team at Grushevyy Tsvet and to the restaurant Vo Sadu Li, V Ogorode for the way they welcomed us. To Anton, Igor and Fatima — for those days. To our guests — for their trust. And to everyone who was there with us, filming, helping, cooking and sharing this trip.
We truly had a fantastic time.
