Today is all about the Caucasus, the region of Eurasia boxed in by Russia, the Black and Caspian Seas, and Turkey and Iran. While as rich in culinary treasures as it is plagued with political strife, all too few gourmands outside of the region seek out its food. And at least in Budapest, we have one idea why: Because the people with all this great food sometimes seem like they want to keep it as secret as some ancient tribal custom.

Exhibit "A" is Marquis de Salade, which offers a long (probably too long) menu of mostly Russian, Azeri and Uzbek offerings.

Why would a place that serves food like this have a cheesy and misleading name like "Marquis de Salade"? Simple: when it opened back in the early '90s, expats and tourists were desperate for refuge from yet another dinner of fried cheese or stringy pörkölt. Of course, the longer a restaurant holds on to a name, the harder it is for an owner to see the logic in re-branding. But these days, with salad more common in Budapest than decent Hungarian food, the name is as old and outdated as the old dinosaurs still running some of the countries down in the southern bits of the old U.S.S.R.

So what would we suggest they call it? Unfortunately, "Marquis de Caucasus" doesn't sound any less goofy, and would probably cause deathly offense to one or another of the region's warring groups. Meanwhile, "Trans-Caucasus Express" fails to capture the relaxed atmosphere of the nicely decorated cellar dining areas. Instead, they might just re-name the restaurant after its current signature dish - "Chicken a la Marquis" (above) a Ft 2,500 plate of delicious flattened Azeri-style csirke with a bowl of tomato garlic sauce on the side - and call it "Marquis de Garlic." In the meantime, don't be put off by that silly name, and go give it a try.