Foreigners in Moscow like to talk about to what extent it is becoming a "normal" city. These discussions involve all kinds of statistics, comparisons and yardsticks with which to measure this elusive concept of "normality." Of course, normality is all relative. In Paris, for example, it is normal to consistently watch one's feet in order to avoid the dense archipelago of dog turds that adorns the streets of that romantic city.

But such perverted visions of what is normal aside, one of the common measures that crops up in conversations is food. And one of the pillars of normality, it would seem, is an eating scene that is both varied and democratic. Food democracy is about having ever-greater numbers of people being able to eat out now and then without sending themselves plummeting into a financial abyss. "Let them eat pelmeni" seems to have been the market's motto up until recently, as new eating establishments concentrated their refined culinary efforts on the moneyed classes at the expense of the rest.

To finally get to the point, however, Moscow now has places like PirOGI, where the food is decent and the prices are more democratic. An island of normality in a fierce capitalist ocean. Actually, I was under pressure to find a cheaper restaurant to review after displaying too much expensive gluttony and my dining partner suggested that at PirOGI we could eat plenty and keep within our truncated budget.

Eat plenty we did. This is not hard to do, as portions are sufficiently generous. We started off healthily, my partner with a tomato salad (60 rubles) and I with a tuna salad (85 rubles). There's certainly nothing better on a hot summer evening, such as it was, than to eat crisp and fresh vegetables.

What particularly delighted us is that, in the downstairs part at least, mineral water is free. Now that is progressive, commendable, and I hope the spirit of competition, which is supposed to prevail in the free market, will incite other restaurants to follow PirOGI's example. My partner washed his food down with beer, while I decided to keep in the spirit of the healthy nature of my entree and ordered freshly squeezed orange and lemon juice (60 rubles).

One entree wasn't enough for me, though, and I added eggplants stuffed with cheese (50 rubles) to the table. This wasn't because the first entree was somehow measly or inadequate, but merely because, like my wise mother always said, "I have eyes bigger than my stomach." And because I love the combination of vegetables stuffed with cheese. It was worth it. My partner, who ordered mushroom soup, felt likewise.

With a look of great purpose and intimate knowledge of the menu, my partner chose his main course – pork shashlyk (140 rubles). He proudly informed me that this was one of the most expensive dishes on the menu. Anyway, for his money he got two skewers of meat, chips and salad, all in all a decent-sized portion of food.

I ordered the spinach and cheese pirog (70 rubles), which came served with salad and vegetable ragout. I would have liked it a little more moist and spinachy, but it was still quite tasty and made rather a pleasant summer meal.

Needless to say, there were plenty of other options – fish, meat and poultry dishes, soups, omelets, a variety of salads, sandwiches and pirozhki – all for less than 150 rubles. Those wanting a tipple will be happy to see that prices for alcohol are equally democratic with, for example, a whole range of cocktails for between 40 rubles to 80 rubles.

After eating our way through our orders, we took a look around the place. Now, I'm not the one to give the rundown on the history of all the OGI establishments around town, all I can say is that I like what they're doing. The downstairs area at PirOGI is a simple, no-frills space. Upstairs is another eating area with bright modern art on the walls and, more interesting, a cafe and bookshop. This is an ideal place to stop for a coffee and purchase some reading matter, from Asterix in Russian to Venedikt Yerofeyev's alcoholic ode to life and everything – "Moskva-Petushki" – or works on demography and other scholarly topics.

Service is a bit of a case of grabbing a passing waiter, but then again, nothing's ever perfect. We had some coffee up amongst the books, and in a fit of irrationality, I also ordered a piece of cake with tvorog (50 rubles). Being a savory rather than a sweet person, I don't know why I did this, but it seemed to me a fitting thing to do. The cake was actually not bad, though too sweet for my tastes. Fresh fruit and ice cream were also on offer as far as desserts went.

You can't come to PirOGI expecting the same kind of service and refinement that you'd find in upmarket restaurants, but if you're just looking for a generally cheerful, democratic atmosphere and food that is decently prepared without costing a fortune, than this is definitely worth a try. It's a normal place and hopefully a harbinger of more such normal places to come.

PIROGI
29 Pyatnitskaya Ul.
Metro: Tretyakovskaya
Tel: 927-5678
Hours: 24 hour