Slava Showcases Fine Ukrainian Cuisine In New York And Donates Some Proceeds To Wounded War Veterans

The space that was once the bar Peju Club, which closed in 2020, has been transformed from its shadowy Asian ambience to a facsimile of a modern Ukrainian lounge and dining room at a time when it seems like a supportive act to investigate Ukrainian food culture. There is, in fact, a Little Ukraine community just blocks away on the Lower East Side.

Partners Nazar Hrab, Travis Odegard, Matt Sylvester, and Josh Spiezl, who also own the East Village’s Pineapple Club and Bee’s Knees Cocktail Bar in Williamsburg, met while working at Mercer Kitchen, and joined with Seattle tech entrepreneur and designer Josh Spiezle, opening Slava last in November. It is named after Nazar’s mother Yaroslava and has taken on a second meaning as a reference to the phrase “Slava Ukraini,” which means glory to Ukraine.

The restaurant is up two steep staircases from Houston Street, and you enter to find a long room done in tones of dark blue-green with burgundy tufted banquettes. There are murals by Ukrainian artist Kateryna Lisova that are available for sale, with proceeds going to benefit Revived Soldiers Ukraine.

Lighting is pretty low, certainly not bright enough to see the color and beauty of chef Pavlo “Pasha” Servetnyk’s food. We had a comfortable booth with a table lamp, commandeered another and could then see just how lovely the spread of dishes was. The rest of the tables are only lighted by votive candles.

Seretnyk, who looks barely out of his teens, has a sturdy résumé, with stints at El Celler de Can Roca in Girona, Spain, and Gaggan Anand in Bangkok. Afterwards he opened five Breadman Pizzerias in his native Ukraine, and when war broke out, he transformed his largest pizzeria into a bakery that distributed 500,000 free loaves of bread to the starving residents of Kherson—a brave act that caused him to flee to New York, where he worked at La Mercerie. Now at Slava, his entire kitchen brigade is composed of Ukrainian émigrés.

The menu is of a good size to show a real range of Ukrainian cuisine, which, of course, resembles much of what’s cooked in all nearby regions. His work in pizza-making is evident in the delightful sourdough bread served with porcini butter ($8). It is a perfect accompaniment to the superb borscht ($15), which comes with an emerging beef rib whose meat falls from the bone into the beet-based soup.

It’s impossible to see “Pancakes with Chicken and Porcini” ($22) topped with Brinza sheep’s milk cheese and seared onions, or a potato pancake with sour cream and salmon roe ($26), and not want to order both, which come brown and steamy and sweet with caramelized onions.

The house specialties are varenyky, luscious dumplings with various stuffings (made famous by Nikolai Gogol in his story “Christmas Eve”), and each platter will serve two people as a starter ($18-$20). I loved the potato variety with savory pork fat, and the “Lazy Verenyky” I wanted to keep all to myself: They are like long gnocchi, nicely chewy, with cottage cheese, sour cream, dill, butter Brinza, and both porcini and oyster mushrooms—a dish I would never fail to order whenever I return to Slava. Simpler chicken verenyky were somewhat bland by comparison.

The main courses number seven, with the only seafood offering a shrimp salad ($23). The rosy sliced duck breast, impeccably cooked with crisp burnished skin ($38), was a delectably good example of classic technique, and the lamb tenderloin with peas and a spicy, garlicky tomato adjuka sauce ($32) had just the right heft and seasonings that long cooking imparts.

There is an item called “Fried chicken Kyiv sandwich” ($24),which is not the old-fashioned, butter-oozing chicken Kiev but a first-rate, crispy chicken fillet with aïoli, hot sauce and plenty of roasted potatoes.

A beloved eastern European dessert is cherry verenyky, here topped with sour cream and a rich raspberry sauce ($29). I also enjoyed the pretty cherry meringue tart.

Nazar is behind a program of infused vodkas well worth sampling, with a flight of three at $20, flavored with horseradish and honey, pineapple and, if you dare, a fiercely hot chile pepper knock-out. There are also plenty of craft cocktails that come in lovely glassware. Twenty percent of the proceeds from the sale of one made of clarified borscht fortified with vodka go to Revived Soldiers Ukraine to provide medical treatment and supplies to wounded Ukrainian soldiers.

The wine list is modest. Wines by the glass are identified only by varietal, not label.

It’s facile to say that dining at Slava gives you the feeling of being part of something bigger than just eating and drinking. I would happily dine at the Russian Tea Room without compunctions, but at Slava I couldn’t help but feeling some small degree of camaraderie at this troubled time of war in Europe.

SLAVA

77 West Houston Street

929-531-9779

Open for dinner nightly; for brunch Sat. & Sun.