When one crosses the Q Bridge from New Haven into East Haven one is thrown into a vast anti-wilderness of one of those streets that can be anywhere in the US: Walmart, Autozone, Burger Kings, gas stations. Sushi restaurants, Dunkin’ Donuts, plaza after plaza forever. I’ve crossed that bridge many a time and nothing ever stood out to me when driving through East Haven, Connecticut. That is until this past year, after spending time away elsewhere, I drove over the Q bridge and noticed something peculiar, out of the ordinary if you will – an older building with blue neon lettering in a gothic font. I was unable to read exactly what the exotic font said on my first drive through but my curiosity was piqued. The next time I drove by the spot I observed a Romanian flag and was able to make out what that curious word said: Transylvania. I instinctually recognized this location as a weird place and I needed to make a visit. So, this is post is about my experience in Transylvania – East Haven, Connecticut.
I invited some friends to explore the location with me, having no clue what wonder we would be getting into. I was the first to arrive and the interior of the place confirmed my intuition that the restaurant was going to be weird and beautiful. The layout of the restaurant was a bar, a main dining room, and a smaller dining room designed for private functions. The restaurant is in ceaseless juxtaposition between traditional Romanian aesthetics and kitschy Dracula/Halloween décor. I believe this polarity is not in conflict, but rather complimentary. One walks in and is greeted with a wall-length poster of 2014’s Dracula Untold. But then one observes that with wooden log cabin aesthetic and eastern European tablecloths and fabrics with a lit fireplace creating an equally cozy and spooky atmosphere.
I sit down at the table located in the bar and my friends quickly join me. One friend who had been to the real Romania said that the aesthetic was congruent with their memory of the nation. But for every traditional element, there is an accent with spookiness. For example – the bathrooms are labeled with the sign “Bat-room”. There is a poster explaining the story of Vlad the Impaler. And there are other kitschy signs and skeleton pictures decorating the rest of the place. I was in love.
The Website does an excellent job of advertising what the restaurant is all about. On the front page, in a gothic font, reads the invitation: “come in for a bite we are dying to meat you”. It only continues with spot-on advertising such as, “Our Food is fang-tastic”. Transylvania CT even managed to kill in with the fact that their phone number is 203-BITE-YOU (203-248-3968). Furthermore, the website has the distinct treat of having a whole history section about Vlad the Impaler detailing his transition from the very real voivode of Romania into the myth of Dracula. I highly recommend you explore their website because it truly is on-point: https://www.transilvaniact.com/press/
My friends and discuss how weird the space is; where we are sitting is the best location for scoping out the whole restaurant. There is a hub-bub in the private room, random folks at the bar which is decently crowded, and various groups in the dining hall. The music was outstanding as it switched back and forth between Eastern European techno like one would find at a club in Bucharest and then traditional folk music. Just like the visual aesthetics of Transylvania CT the music occupies various Romanian cultural modes at once.
I don’t know where to put this in naturally in my description of this place, but Transylvania is a restaurant that is located on the CT historic site of the old mill. Is this related to the Transylvania that we know? No. But there is a corner of the restaurant that has old pictures of Mill and a brief description of the importance of the mill in Connecticut history. The fact that the Old Mill is very much an antiquated building highlights the potential spookieness of the restaurant.
The night then continued as a mix of enjoying drink and food while further taking in some delightful people-watching. The menu is expansive and delightful. We all started with the imported Timisoreana, what I can only assume is the national beer of Romanian. It was a tasty beer and I drank it with gusto. The food menu itself is an attraction. the majority of the menu is traditional Romanian fare. My only complaint about Transylvania is that the prices are on the high side for my liking. Starters average around $11 and there is no entrée less than $21. Because none of us knew what to expect when entering Transylvania CT we all ate beforehand, but there is always belly-room for curiosity. There was a mysterious little item named M.B.S on the menu which was something that seemed essential. It was listed as polenta, hard cheese, and cream, so I was already sold. I asked the waitress what M.B.S. stood for and she (an American by the accent) had no idea so she called over the owner. “M.B.S.,” the red-haired owner said with her Romanian accent, “stands for Mamaliga, Branza si Smantana which is simply Polenta, Cream and Cheese”. I ordered it and was treated to a tasty little plate of food that warmed my soul.
We were further fascinated by the guest. Besides us, there were a couple of families enjoying meals, a couple of ostensibly Romanian backgrounds per an all-Romanian convo with the restaurant owner, what seemed like a group of regulars at the bar, three goths whom I imagined were a throuple (clearly there for the spooky aesthetic), and, apparently, the Romanian Ambassador hosting a gathering in the private room. Spaces like Transylvania CT are bound to create a space for a strange mash-up of different people. One friend commented that if it turned out that the restaurant staff were all vampires and this was a horror movie setup, then the guests would represent the classic diversity of a horror film character lineup.
Overall the evening in Transylvania was just a lovely time filled with weird connections, fun observations, and enjoyment of the company and connections. What I think was the climax of the night is when the goth Throuple ordered a dessert, which on the menu was called “Vlad Donuts”. The menu only described them as “traditional Romanian raspberry jam-filled donuts” but they were simply so much more than what the menu suggested. What the throuple received was human-shaped donuts, impaled on a stake, and set on fire like baked Alaska. I think the dessert, the presentation, and the whole scene that arose with the wait staff bringing the throuple their treats was a summation of the whole Transylvania experience.
As you can tell - this place really is a mix of all my intellectual spatial turn-ons – a replication of another space through symbolic language, a hodge podge of different conflicting histories, and the weird translated trajectory of a historical figure elevated into myth through that whole Vlad the Impaler to Dracula pipeline. And the whole place had such a family-based wholesomeness to it. As my friends walked away from the restaurant were all so happy and filled with joy, and I think this is likely a common feature shared by Transylvania’s patrons. I hope that Transylvania only continues to gain popularity and becomes a keystone feature of the Southern Connecticut culinary scene because it is truly a special and weird place.