Can you hear it? The rhythm pulses through you—the irrepressible backbeat unce-unce-unce of Euro-disco, ever-present on the soundtrack inside Kachka. Like a dacha dance party masquerading as a restaurant, Kachka draws on a panoply of pan-Soviet influences to create a raucous atmosphere unlike anywhere else in the city. With Uzbek shashlik, Armenian yogurt dip, Georgian risotto, Ukrainian sour cherry dumplings, this is resolutely not “Russian food.” It’s the Iron Curtain transformed into a discotheque, fueled by a dozen seasonally flavored vodkas, chased by pickle juice and salt-lick splashes of creamy Borjomi mineral water. Don’t fight it, feel it.