This review originally appeared in Czech translation in the 13/09/08 edition of Lidové Noviny.
During the years I've lived in Prague, a good amount of my precious time has been spent touring American visitors around the city. Those who are making their first trip outside the United States usually end up regaling me with some charmingly idiotic comments. When glimpsing Týn church or some other Gothic structure, for example, more than one has uttered something to the effect of, "Oh my God, that looks just like Disneyland!!!" Out comes the camera. Snap snap snap.
That's when I muster up as much of the patient schoolteacher in me as I can and explain that it isn't Týn that looks like Disneyland, but the other way around. 
"Can you take a picture of me in front of the castle thingy??" Never mind.
What my culturally-challenged friends are referring to is the Sleeping Beauty Castle, the pastel-colored fairy tale structure built in 1955 at the heart of the Disneyland theme park in California that has become a Disney – and, by extension, American – icon. For them, this side of the pond is like a storybook come to life, the realization of a hundred childhood fantasies of 
Smug Europeans like to snicker at this American fetishization of their culture, but it would be unfair to say that we don't have a few exotic fixations of our own. Take, for example, our capital city's current mania for all things South and Central American: La Bodeguita del Medio, a Cuban-themed bar on Kaprova, is packed nightly, a Peruvian restaurant and club just opened its doors in Old Town, and even after years as Prague's most popular cocktail, no one seems to have gotten sick of the mojito.
The simmering hub of all this Latin loving – the South American craze's local Disneyland – has to be La Casa Argentina. It's a large steak restaurant done up to be as stereotypically Argentinean as possible, with tango dancers, native fauna, and Maradona jerseys galore.
The mini-tour of Argentina starts in the Salon Caminito, a big room painted with murals meant to mimic the famous Buenos Aires neighborhood of La Boca. That's followed by the winter garden, where water trickles down a rocky wall and iguanas live in a hollowed-out fake tree trunk. The back room features a wooden bar modeled after a ship and is nicknamed "the port." Finally, there's a hallway decorated with flat screen TVs and football memorabilia and, in the basement, the Bodega Mendoza, a sort of private salon / wine cellar.
For all the investment put into La Casa Argentina's interior, the food is pretty abysmal. Most of the dishes I tried were heinously over seasoned. The cream of corn soup with shrimp (110 CZK) accomplished the impressive feat of being both bland and sickeningly salty at the same time. Ditto the goulash soup (113 CZK), which the menu claimed would be served with Argentinean beef sirloin and homemade bread, but ended up including only a smidgen of the former and none of the latter. The ground beef and chicken-chorizo empanadas (178 CZK) were inoffensive, if a bit on the chewy side, but the salad served that came with it had been salted mercilessly, too.
At least Casa Argentina manages to get the important part right: the steaks. In both quality and preparation, they are unquestionably awesome, and must be some of the best in town. Ranging in price from 335 to 1305 CZK depending on the cut of meat and its size, all of the beef is imported directly from Argentina and is cooked on an open-fire grill (or parrilla) according to your desired temperature.
My tenderloin (468 CZK for 200g) was charred on the outside and succulently red and juicy on the inside; the beef on its own is so flavorful that it really doesn't need that spoonful of herbed butter slapped on top (the waiters also push customers to order additional dipping sauces, even though all of the steaks already come with chimichurri, a traditional spicy condiment).
A restaurant that takes its beef as seriously as this one does ought to make a pretty good burger. But the one my companion tried (the "Black Ranch burger," 355 CZK) was downright bad – the meat patty wouldn't stick together and kept falling apart in big chunks, and it was completely over salted besides. Even more baffling is the fact that the kitchen doesn't cook the burger to order; when my friend asked for it done medium, the waitress responded that the patties were pre-cooked and they didn't make them on the grill. Why on earth not, especially when they have that fancy parrilla going over there in the kitchen?
The service in general was pretty lousy, with surly waiters constantly jumping into our table to grab plates and empty Mattoni bottles but disappearing when it was time to pay the bill. And prepare yourself for a long wait between courses, too.
If this whole Latin craze gets you excited, I suppose you could give La Casa Argentina a shot. For the most part, though, it's a watered-down version of the real thing, a shoddily-made fairy tale castle that relies on its exotic appeal to lure customers.
And just like in the real Disneyland, the food is bad and overpriced. Except for the steaks, of course. Those are in a category of their own – although when they're surrounded by all that phoniness, they're almost forgettable.
But not quite.
La Casa Argentina
Dlouhá 35
Praha 1
Tel: 222 311 512
Open Mon – Sun 10:00 – 02:00
images: lacasaargentina.cz
Monday, September 22, 2008
Restaurant Review: La Casa Argentina
Monday, September 15, 2008
Restaurant Review: Kabul
This review originally appeared in Czech translation in the 06/09/08 edition of Lidové Noviny.
When a dish shows up in your dreams, you know it must really be something special.
That's what happened after one of my recent trips to restaurant Kabul: just as I was drifting off to sleep, my belly still full to bursting from an enormous dinner, the memory of the Afghan-style kebab I'd devoured only a few hours before wafted into my mind. I recalled the ground beef patty's mildly charred, almost crispy exterior; its juicy deep pink center; the aromatic dollops of chutney – one tangy and sweet, the other bold and spicy – that so perfectly complemented the smoky grilled meat.
A little pool of saliva began to collect in my mouth. My stomach growled. Against all odds, I was hungry.
Since it opene
d on Karolíny Světlé a few years ago, Kabul and its fantastic kebabs have been a well-kept secret known only to a handful of devoted regulars. Afghan cuisine isn't exactly Italian or Chinese food, after all, and it can be a tough sell. When I informed a group of out-of-town visitors that we were going to be having dinner at a place called Kabul, they didn't look especially thrilled.
But by the time our table was loaded with fat kebabs, homemade bread, and colorful vegetable side dishes, they'd become believers – as has everyone else I've brought to the restaurant. It's a pleasant little family joint with unique and delicious food at reasonable prices. What's not to like about that?
Kabul is nice to visit both in the wintertime, when the tiny dining room lined with Afghan carpets becomes a cozy cold-weather hideaway, and in the summer, when the restaurant expands to include an outdoor courtyard. With its picturesque wrought-iron well and walls lined head to foot with wisteria, the garden has some enviable features.
Still, the atmosphere outside could use some improvement. The restaurant/ club/ drag queen cabaret next door likes to blast cheesy pop music over their neighbors' demure Afghan soundtrack. They also have menu-wielding employees standing at the shared garden entrance, doing their best to snatch away Kabul's potential customers. There's not too much owner Hasib Saleh can do about those things, but he might consider upgrading the plastic tables and chairs to something a little less crappy – they cheapen the image of his restaurant more than it deserves.
Of course, a certain crustiness is part of what makes restaurants like Kabul so endearing. The puffy, pleather-bound menus, quirky restrooms, and occasional chipped plate show a lack of pretentiousness that I find refreshing. As long as it doesn't go too far (cockroaches, dirty toilets, cockroaches on the dirty toilets), a little bit of the lived-in feeling is fine with me.
It's not all about the kebabs, either (though I do feel compelled to add that aside from the beef version, Kabul also has chicken and mutton kebabs that are very good as well, all for around 200 CZK). Ashak (150 CZK) is a tasty dish made up of pierogi-like dumplings filled with leek and topped by white yoghurt, dried mint, and ground beef with lentils. The al dente stickler in me would have preferred the dumplings to be a little less cooked, but for all I know, that could be the authentic way to serve them.
Vegetarians can fill up at Kabul, too, as can those who are dead against trying Afghan food; the menu also lists spaghetti, goulash, and pizza, although the Western-style additions hardly seem necessary. Vegetarian sides include bamya (140 CZK), or okra with onions and tomatoes; a garlicky steamed spinach dish called sabzih (70 CZK); and dal (60 CZK), a mildly spicy yellow lentil puree that's perfect for scooping up with Kabul's homemade flat bread (40 CZK). I'd also recommend the excellent kadu (140 CZK), a fried pumpkin dish topped with white yoghurt.
Celebratory Afghan dinners are typically served in the form of a spread, or dastarkhan, where the dining table is laden with various meats, vegetable dishes, breads, rices, nuts, and fruit. It's a good idea to mimic this tradition on a trip to Kabul with a small group so you get to try lots of different dishes. Or you might like to take your food to go and have a little dastarkhan of your own at home (or at your office – they apparently cater parties of up to 500 people).
I do find Kabul's food to be a little on the greasy side for my liking; it's not something I'd be able to eat every day. But if you try it and become a fan, you might want to take advantage of their new 85-CZK lunch special. It may not be the environment for a high-power business lunch, but your meal is certain to be cheap, filling, and tasty.
You'll probably be happy with the service, too. Mr. Saleh is usually on hand to oversee the restaurant and often serves customers himself with a big, friendly smile. No wonder so many people have adopted Kabul as one of their favorites. Just make sure that when you stop by, you don't get tricked into going to the Tingl Tangl drag queen show next door. Your dinner still might enter your dreams, but it'll probably be in a whole different kind of way.
Kabul
Karolíny Světlé 14
Praha 1
Tel: 224 235 452
map
Open Mon – Sun 10.00 - 23.00
