This review originally appeared in Czech translation in the 14/03/09 edition of Lidové Noviny.
As of the first of this year, the Mexican-themed dive bar and restaurant La Casa Blů – formerly an unbearably smoky hole – is entirely cigarette-free. The decision came after the restaurant's owners held an online poll of its customers, who voted overwhelmingly for a smokeless atmosphere. Meanwhile, an internet petition protesting smoking in public places has collected over 100,000 signatures. And for the second time in a few days, when I called up a restaurant to make a reservation, I was informed that they only had room in the smoking section.
Fewer and fewer people, it seems, want to eat cigarette smoke along with their biftek. Our government
has been frustratingly stubborn in passing the inevitable anti-smoking laws now enjoyed by most of Europe, but the Czech Republic is moving with the times despite them.
Of course, most restaurants in our country still welcome smokers, with some handling them better than others. The ones that care least about their food and how their customers experience it – low-level pubs, for example – generally have the most pervasive smoking areas. But even many that do purport to focus on their cuisine serve it in a haze of cigarette smoke.
Lemon Leaf was one of the restaurants that informed me there were seats available in the smoking section only. When I got there, I understood why: the smoking area was enormous, taking up the most attractive part of the restaurant, while the non-smoking section occupies a small, less appealing area tucked away from the main action. Worse still, the non-smokers are subject to the swinging doors of the kitchen and the cold blue glow emanating from, of all things, a big cigarette vending machine (I found out later that the smoking and non-smoking sections change places during lunchtime).
If it were up to me, I would model the smoking rules in restaurants according to those of the modern airport. The vast majority would not allow smoking anywhere on the premises, and the few that insisted on doing so would confine smokers (as I witnessed recently at the Vienna Airport) to a tiny, glass-enclosed space where they might inhale as much second-hand smoke as they could ever possibly want while the rest of the world walks past, shaking their heads in disgust at the few whiffs of toxic fumes that manage to escape.
Don't get me wrong. It's not as if the food at Lemon Leaf is so good that it deserves to be eaten in a pristine atmosphere; I'm just using it as an example of the wider smoking problem. In spite of the restaurant's ongoing popularity, the food is actually quite bad.
The first tip-off is right there in the menu. Whenever I see risotto, couscous, and steak with pepper sauce thrown in with the other dishes in an otherwise all-Asian restaurant, I can't help but get suspicious. There's just something unappetizing about a kitchen of all trades. Are they not confident in their Thai cooking? Are they trying to please everybody? It's never a good sign.
Neither was the fact that the curry dishes came with hardly any vegetables, only some Thai eggplant, a few sad-looking pieces of chicken and, in the case of the panang curry (219 CZK), some woefully undercooked shrimp. The yellow curry with chicken (179 CZK) had cashew nuts in it, but they were soft and mushy. And both dishes were too heavy on the salt.
The fried potato balls (79 CZK) were very salty too, and filled with some chopped-up shrimp mixed with… I'm not sure what, to be honest; the menu said something about lemongrass, ginger, and cilantro, but I couldn't taste any of it. A prawn and octopus salad (163 CZK) was served on a nice bed of fresh greens and mixed veggies but featured limp overcooked octopus and the same crunchy shrimp that came with the curry.
Still, all that was nothing compared to the abomination that was the chicken breast in pistachios with oranges (189 CZK). This came in a creamy white sauce that did taste orange-y but somehow – either in its flavor or consistency, or both – reminded me of liquefied cheese. A few slices of strawberry were on the plate, too, in a possible attempt at being interesting. (For the record, the person who ordered this concoction actually seemed to enjoy it; in the interest of protecting his reputation, he will go unnamed).
I did have a fairly good chicken pad Thai (166 CZK), and the neua daet diao (dried marinated beef sirloin, 129 CZK) was all right, too. But you can get better for similar prices elsewhere – Noi on Újezd comes immediately to mind, along with a few others.
Is it that people don't know there's better Thai food in this city or is there something special about Lemon Leaf that I'm missing out on? I'm thinking it's probably not the latter, because I made three visits before this writing and was seriously unimpressed. Maybe people like the space, with its high ceilings and large windows, or maybe there just aren't too many other half-decent restaurants in that particular neighborhood. But the service is nothing more than okay, and the food is okay at best.
Yet for all my complaints about smoking and non-smoking sections and dubious cream sauces, nobody could have been having a worse time than the woman sitting at the table next to mine during my last dinner. She was on what seemed like a first date, with a French guy who, for an entire two hours straight, did not stop talking. About life, his family history, his own fabulousness. It was the monologue of monologues, and somehow continued even as he was chewing his food. I would be surprised if she said ten words the entire time.
Having to sit through that and eat a Lemon Leaf dinner? Talk about the date from hell.
Lemon Leaf
Myslíkova 14
Praha 2 - Nové Město
map
Tel: 224 919 056
Open Mon-Thurs 11:00-23:00, Fri 11:00-00:30, Sat 12:30-00:30, Sun 12:30-23:00
photographs 2,5,6 František Vlček for Lidové Noviny; all others lemonleaf.cz
Monday, March 23, 2009
Restaurant Review: Lemon Leaf
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Food news: Maze gets a Michelin star, Veyrat eyes Beroun, and Angel and Aromi branch out
A month after the formal announcement that Gordon Ramsay was leaving town, his Prague restaurant, Maze, has been awarded a Michelin star. The Hilton hotel will contin
ue running Maze until the end of this month, when they will announce "a new concept and a new chef," according to Hilton Prague Old Town PR manager Marketa Šebková. Maze Prague's former head chef, Philip Carmichael, has already settled in to his new post at Maze Cape Town (pictured), set to open in early April.
In other Michelin news, Allegro at the Four Seasons held on to its star from last year, but this year's hot favorite, La Dégustation Bohême Bourgeoise, didn't gain a spot among Prague's top restaurants. Bib Michelins were again handed out to Aromi and Le Terroir, as well as to newcomer Le Cornichon. Brasserie M was (rightfully) denied a repeat Bib.
Three Michelin-starred chef Marc Veyrat reportedly wants to open a gastronomic complex near Beroun that will "bring meals in harmony with nature." Famous for his organic molecular cuisine, Veyrat plans to serve l
ocally-produced food in wooden houses set two meters above the ground. "Hobbit holes" in a nearby hillside will be available for overnight guests, and a cooking school will also be part of the complex. Whether the estimated 150 million-CZK project will be able to secure funding is still unclear.
Céleste, the new restaurant by the owners of Angel, is on the verge of its official opening on the seventh floor of Frank Gehry's Tančicí dům (a
lso known as the Fred and Ginger building), in the space formerly occupied by La Perle de Prague. April should also see the opening of a sister restaurant to Aromi, La Finestra on Platneřská in Old Town. According to owner Riccardo Lucque, his new spot will feature freshly-imported Italian meats to complement Aromi, which is more seafood-oriented.
images: gordonramsay.com, fourseasons.com, hospodarskenoviny.cz, celesterestaurant.cz
Monday, March 16, 2009
Restaurant Review: Klášterní Šenk
This review originally appeared in Czech translation in the 28/02/09 edition of Lidové Noviny.
As all restaurant-goers know, sometimes the quality of your experience at a particular restaurant depends not only on what you get, but whom you get. You can order everything right, but if you're stuck in the wrong seating section on the wrong day of the week, your food will end up tasting just that little bit more bitter.
That's what happened on my second trip to Klášterní Šenk, a cozy pub-restaurant located within the walls of the 10th-century Břevnov monastery.
My mother and I were having lunch. She ordered the soup of the day and I chose a main course 
off the regular menu; for seconds, we both ordered dessert. Her soup arrived promptly. I watched her eat it, hoping my halušky would come in time for us to dine together. Some time after the soup bowl had been cleared, my mother asked the waiter if the halušky were on their way, seeing as we had been waiting half an hour for them to come.
He promptly replied thus: "No, you have NOT been waiting thirty minutes." He then went to the register, hit a few buttons and returned with a very self-satisfied look on his face. "The order was put in at 12:40, and it is now 1:00. So you've been waiting twenty minutes."
Now, in America (and whatever you might think of the country, they do customer service very well) they have a saying: the customer is always right. It is an adage followed by just about everybody working in any service industry. Why? Because if the customer feels as if she has been waiting for thirty minutes, it has been thirty minutes. And because even if the customer is wrong, she should be treated with a level of courtesy and deference that will keep her happy.
I, instead, was treated like a booger. And that's fine; I'm pretty much used to it. Czech waiters often look at me as if I was something small, dry, and shriveled that they had just scooped from the inside wall of their nasal cavity. That especially happens when I do things like gently trying to explain that we had hoped to eat at the same time, and no we should not have had to tell the waitress that we wanted the food to come together because it should be obvious and in any case she should have asked us, etc., etc. The booger talks! It's always an interesting moment.
The argument went on for a full five minutes, as if the head waiter didn't have anything better to do in a packed restaurant during lunch hour than educate a couple of ladies about the correct way to order a meal.
Now contrast that experience with the one I'd had during dinner the week before: a friendly, charming server, who offered to make a cucumber salad although it wasn't on the menu (he ended up forgetting the salad, but apologized sincerely when he realized his mistake). I was pleasantly surprised by how patient he was with a friend who is a Czech beginner – he didn't pretend not to understand her, or start speaking in English, as so many servers often do. He even complimented her on her language skills.
So the service at Klášterní Šenk seems to be a little hit-or-miss. The food, on the other hand, is a lot more consistent. The dishes are mostly classic local fare and slightly more expensive than you'd find in your average pub, but all that much better in terms of quality and presentation. They are listed on the menu in funny, old-school Czech style: prsa z kačice, co na rybníku pod klášterem plula, s obé zelím i knedlíků (259 CZK) ("breast from a duck that swam on the pond under the monastery, with both cabbage and dumplings").
I tried one of the pricier entrées, the beef sirloin with chanterelle mushrooms (490 CZK). The meat was expertly cooked and seasoned, its inside pink but not dripping with blood, and the chanterelle gravy was a nice accompaniment. Even the corn on the cob (40 CZK) I'd ordered on the side was very good: instead of being shriveled or muddy like many pub cobs, this one was sweet and juicy. It was dressed in olive oil and a sprinkling of basil – an unusual choice, but tasty nonetheless.
A roast pork knee with sour cherries and horseradish (249 CZK) was excellent, too, as was the mushroom-packed kulajda in a bread bowl (59 CZK). And nothing makes me happier than opening up a menu to find hearty Czech sweet dishes, long replaced in most restaurants by tiramisus and cheesecakes. At Klášterní Šenk, you'll find fluffy lívance (Czech pancakes) with whipped cream and blueberries (69 CZK), or delectable potato dumplings filled with plum preserve and served with a vanilla-tinged sweet cheese sauce (69 CZK). The beer on tap is, appropriately enough, the rarely-seen eleven-degree Klášter (0.5l for 32 CZK).
To find all these delights, you'll have to make your way out to Břevnov, but even if you're coming from across town, it really is worth it. The setting – just adjacent to the St. Margaret church and its surrounding gardens – is positively serene, and makes an ideal spot for a pre- or post-meal stroll. And with its birchwood-burning fireplace (not always lit, unfortunately), stone walls, and wooden beams, the rustic-style restaurant is uniquely charming.
But lots of people already seem to have figured that out for themselves. Klášterní Šenk is a popular destination for weddings and other large-scale events, and if warned a few days in advance, they can prepare a full-on feast with roast duck, goose, and other specialties. On regular days, they are consistently packed for both lunch (they have a 99 CZK menu on weekdays) and dinner, so reservations are recommended.
And the restaurant is recommended, too. Just be careful who you order from.
Klášterní Šenk
Markétská 1/28
Praha 6 - Břevnov
map
Tel: 220 406 294
Open Mon – Sun 11:30–23:00
photographs 1, 2, 4, 5 Jindřich Mynařík for Lidové Noviny; all others klasternisenk.cz
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
Restaurant Review: Divinis
This review originally appeared in Czech translation in the 14/02/09 edition of Lidové Noviny.
I like a restaurant that does specials.
A chef who creates new dishes on a regular basis shows he isn't a slave to his menu, that he has a willingness to take the best ingredients available on any particular day and experiment with them. But to do that properly, he really has to be able to cook well.
At Divinis, the tiny Italian wine bar/restaurant recently taken over by prominent Czech chef Zdeněk Pohlreich, they do special dishes – and nearly everything else – to perfection. I visited during the t
ruffle season, and a few of the muddy-looking nuggets were displayed in a glass case on Divinis's bar. On offer was a beef carpaccio and taglioni pasta served with white truffle shavings (both 200 CZK, plus 200 CZK per gram of truffle) that our waiter grated onto the food tableside.
I often harp on about the lack of simple cooking in these parts. Now I've found at least one restaurant to use as a counterexample. Besides the truffles, the carpaccio was nothing more than a plate of bright pink, translucent slices of raw beef, lightly seasoned with salt and pepper. The tagliolini were cooked al dente and tossed in butter with finely diced porcini mushrooms. Both dishes, despite the sparseness of their components, were phenomenally flavorful. When ingredients are top-notch and cooked properly, extra flavorings and garnishes can become not only unnecessary, but offensive.
That's something Mr. Pohlreich understands well. Another special that day was the cinta senese, an heirloom breed of Siennese pig (and the only native Tuscan strain to have survived extinction) recognizable by the white band around its shoulders and prized for its well-marbled, fragrant meat. It was cooked both as a pork chop and a plump, juicy sausage – the two variations were served together on the same plate along with some roasted potatoes. It was as if we were eating at someone's home, a feeling heightened by Divinis's cozy rustic décor of pale woods, dim yet ample lighting, and glass-topped tables filled with curiosities like dried pastas, fruits, and flowers.
Standouts from the regular menu included the deliciously salty linguine with clams (280 CZK) and a warm octopus salad (250 CZK) made with green celery, potatoes, and a drizzle of pesto sauce. For dessert, I had a very well-executed chocolate fondant (180 CZK) that came with a thick raspberry coulis and a scoop of vanilla crème fraiche.
Divinis's menu is small, but I was nonetheless impressed by our waiter's ability to remember the orders of five people each having four different courses. This guy was a pro in other ways, too. He was able to explain the dishes with both passion and succinctness, he was flexible and personable, and he was comfortable making recommendations (it was obvious, too, that he was suggesting dishes he actually liked, not ones the kitchen had told him to get rid of – or if that was the case, I certainly couldn't tell). And when he made a tiny mistake in forgetting to bring me a plate for my clam shells, he immediately corrected it without my prompting along with a brief apology.
For the quality of the food and service, the prices at Divinis are very reasonable. The Italian wine list is excellent and fairly priced, and a shot of espresso is just 50 CZK compared to the 100 or so they like to charge at some of Prague's other restaurants. You don't get the feeling here that they're trying to trick you out of your money.
There really isn't too much to complain about. I couldn't figure out how to work the faucet in the ladies' toilet, for example, but I'm sure that is only a symptom of my idiocy when it comes to technical gadgetry. I also wasn't thrilled that the smoking section seemed to be in the main part of the restaurant, which could have been a real annoyance if there had been more than one person puffing away. The back seating area, with its proximity to the toilets and rack for the guest's coats, didn't seem like a very enticing place to eat, anyway.
I am often asked to name which restaurants are the best in Prague. If there is no question of price, I usually mention two: Angel and La Dégustation Bohême Bourgeoise. There are other places I like too, of course, but most of them lack consistency – only some foods, or some waiters, or some lucky evenings are good. Or they are only great until they receive a few positive reviews, and then they become too relaxed or too confident. That's when I start getting emails and comments about somebody's bad experience at a particular restaurant.
It can be frustrating. But I am ready to make another whole-hearted recommendation. Although I haven't spent too much time at Divinis, I still think it's really something special.
There's just one thing I'm confused about. If Mr. Pohlreich is capable of this kind of restaurant, why can't he do the same with the hit or miss Café Imperial?
Of course, that restaurant is obviously geared more towards tourists, while Divinis seems like the kind of place a chef would invite his friends to sample his food at its best. And invite them he should: this is truly a restaurant to be proud of, a rare example of fresh, minimalist cuisine made with top-notch ingredients. It is subtle, elegant, and unpretentious. It is good value and a pleasant place to spend one's time.
And yes, it is one of Prague's very best restaurants.
Divinis
Týnská 21
Praha 1 - Old Town
map
Tel: +420 222 325 440
Open Mon-Sat 17:00–01:00. Closed Sunday.
photographs 1, 2, 3, 6 Viktor Chlad for Lidové Noviny; all others divinis.cz
Monday, February 23, 2009
Restaurant Review: The French Restaurant at Obecní Dům
This review originally appeared in Czech translation in the 07/02/09 edition of Lidové Noviny.
There's a funny thing I've been noticing about Czech restaurants lately: the service isn't nearly as bad as it used to be.
Sure, you do come across the occasional pissed-off waitress who behaves as if your ordering an omelet with Gruyère cheese is a personal affront (which is what happened to me recently during brunch at Café Savoy), and things aren't always as professional and efficient as we'd like them to be. But whe
n I started writing this column, I expected to be using up a lot more space writing about outlandishly rude waiters. Just a few years ago, that would have been the norm. Things have gotten better, I suppose -- or maybe I've just been lucky lately.
Table service tends to be the worst at tourist traps, since the staff doesn't expect to ever see their customers again (and many visitors tip poorly for the same reason). But even in those restaurants, there seems to have been a marked improvement.
I don't seek out touristy restaurants very often. Sometimes, however, the tourist traps come to me. I find out that a place comes highly recommended by local food experts an
Case in point: the Francouzská Restaurace at Obecní Dům. The location itself, although it is a sightseeing favorite, is not what makes this restaurant a tourist trap. Neither is the service, which is polite and quite professional. What marks it as a place no self-respecting local would go – even a local with a lot of money to throw around – are the prices.
How can these people possibly think they can get away with charging 165 CZK for a small shot of espresso? And this is not the coffee bean excreted by wild Indonesian civet cats or some other such fashionable brew, but regular old Lavazza. They do serve it with an unannounced drop of Rémy-Martin, but I still shudder to think what a double (or, God forbid, a cappuccino) might cost. Some restaurants that are not exactly tourist traps charge outrageous prices for their coffee, too, such as Allegro at the Four Seasons – but at least in that case, the bill is somewhat justified by the fanciness of the coffee and quality of the food.
You can't really say the same for Francouzská Restaurace. Although the food generally isn't especially bad, it is especially pricey: appetizers range from 490 to 690 CZK; entrées are between 590 and 950 CZK (ordering three courses gets you a set menu price that's a better deal). Looking at the menu posted outside and the restaurant's gorgeous Art Nouveau interior, an unassuming couple of tourists might conclude that this is one of Prague's most upscale restaurants and treat themselves to a special night out. But they would be making a mistake.
Shriveled, dry, and tasting unmistakeably of burnt oil, the grilled octopus appetizer (690 CZK) was a genuine rip-off, even if the saffron risotto it came with was decently executed. The pumpkin soup (490 CZK) was so creamy that I could hardly discern the flavor of the vegetable at all, and was garnished by a few soggy strands of zucchini that had most likely been cooked in the same offending oil. Value for money this was not.
I do have some good things to say about my main course, the Czech duck roast. At Francouzská Restaurace, appropriately enough, they make duck in the French style, meaning that the breast and legs are prepared to different degrees of doneness: the breast arrived medium rare, while the drumstick was thoroughly cooked through. Otherwise, the dish was all Czech, with sides of both bread and potato dumplings, red cabbage, and stuffing, along with a pear marinated in alcohol that I thought was a nice touch. This was not an inexpensive dish, but it was well-made and the portion was large; I would recommend this one to any vistor who wants to try Czech food done in a more refined way.
Despite Francouzská Restaurace's magnificent architecture, and even with the accompaniment of an exceptional piano player, the gigantic room still felt uninviting. It may have been the white covers over the wooden chairs, or the bright lighting, or the handing over of our coats to a bored-looking coat-check lady when we first walked in, but the warm, luxurious atmosphere I'd hoped for just wasn't quite there – and the tourist puffing away at a cigar throughout our meal didn't help much, either.
Even in the best of times, the restaurant business is incredibly difficult, and in a city oversaturated with expensive dining options (and now about to lose more and more tourist dollars to the financial crisis), the challenge must be even harder. I can see why resorting to old restaurant tricks like overpricing the drinks sometimes feels like a necessity to survive.
But whether we are locals or tourists, most of us have worked hard for our money, too, and would rather not spend 110 CZK of it on a 0.2 L bottle of Coca-Cola. The problem is we won't realize we're being charged so much until after we've received our bill and it's too late. Who, after all, checks the non-alcoholic drinks list before ordering a bottle of water or a cup of coffee?
I certainly don't – but it looks like it may be time for me to start.
Francouzská restaurace v Obecním domě v Praze
Náměstí Republiky 5
Praha 1 - Old Town
map
Tel: +420 222 002 770
photographs 1, 4, 5, 6 Tomáš Krist for Lidové Noviny; all others francouzskarestaurace.cz
Friday, February 13, 2009
Food news: Goodbye Gordon, hello Hooters
After less than a year and a half of operation, Maze Prague by Gordon Ramsay will be changing hands. The news was confirmed by Ramsay's Czech PR rep, Michaela Dvořáková, who says that although the restaurant will keep its name (for now), Maze will be run by the Hilton Prague Old Town management and Gordon Ramsay Holdings will just "participate in the creation of the menu." Head chef Philip Carmichael is rumored to have already left Prague for his native U.K.
Maze Prague is only one of several restaurants in the Gordon Ramsay empire said t
o be struggling. Still, Ramsay's departure from the Czech market may discourage foreign restaurateurs, few of whom will realize that local patrons weren't Maze's problem -- its location was. Put your restaurant in a windowless box in the lobby of a hotel on the fringes of Old Town (in one of the world's most view-worthy cities, no less) and you are bound to fail, no matter how good your food is.
I sure will miss their chocolate fondant.
Meanwhile, Angus Burger and Angus Grill in Palladium and Cremeria Milano on Pařížská have closed, and Sapori Italiani, the Italian-goods specialty shop formerly located on Perlova, is moving to Bělohorská in Prague 6.
And in food-unrelated restaurant news, the sports bar/breast-ogling American chain Hooters will debut in Prague late in 2009. Franchise holder Na Zdravi Ventures is planning to open several Hooters restaurants in the Czech and Slovak Republics over the next few years. Na Zdravi CEO J. Steven Parker says, "The time is right for the introduction of the Hooters brand."
I hate to admit it, but he might be onto something.
images: gordonramsay.com, saporiitaliani.cz, hooters.com
Monday, February 9, 2009
Restaurant Review: Dahab (CLOSED)
This review originally appeared in Czech translation in the 17/01/09 edition of Lidové Noviny.
How much does it cost to make a bowl of hummus?
The much-loved Middle Eastern spread's main ingredients are chickpeas and tahini, along with some garlic, olive oil, and lemon. So if I told you that someone was charging 225 CZK for a serving, you might think that was a bit much -- even if it was a reasonably large portion and came with a few pickled vegetables and (stale) pita chips.
But there is at least one restaurant in Prague that can get away with charging large sums of money for chickpea paste. Its name is Dahab, and it has a unique calling card: its colorful Arabic-style atm
osphere. Although the main room is large, it still feels cozy; stained-glass lanterns hang from the vaulted ceiling, Persian rugs cover the floors, and the air is thick with the sweet scent of shisha tobacco. In the back of the restaurant are private salons where patrons can sit on the ground and sip tea from low tables or have a full dinner for up to 35 people. On the weekends, there is live music accompanied by belly dancers (more on them later), and it is a favorite hangout spot for Prague's Arab community.
So coming to Dahab is something of an experience, which might explain not only the high prices, but also the fact that the restaurant's reservation book is often completely full.
In its original incarnation, Dahab was a couscous house inside Roxy, where club kids could chill out and sip tea in between bouts of frenetic dance-floor activity. Then the restaurant moved around the corner, expanded its menu to include Middle Eastern as well as North African cuisines, and later – during a post-flood renovation – opened a fast food eatery facing Dlouhá. The fast food place, called Yalla, is in my experience not fantastic (although to be fair, I've only ever tried it in the wee hours of the morning).
The food at Dahab proper is definitely a step up, but it still leaves something to be desired. For a sampling of the restaurant's specialties, guests can order one of the mezze platters, such as the Grand Royal Mezze (800 CZK per person) – a feast that includes couscous, falafel, hummus, baba ghanoush, chicken drumsticks, grilled lamb cutlets, merguezi sausage, fried eggplant, pickled cheese with olives, vine leaves, tabbouleh salad, harissa, and pita bread. That sounds like a lot, and it is, although the portions of each dish are actually fairly small.
I just wish the cooking itself was a little bit better. The stuffed vine leaves were flavorless, poorly-wrapped, and filled with undercooked rice. The falafel tasted as if it had been fried in oil that had been used a few too many times, and I've had better tabbouleh at far cheaper restaurants. For the money, one would hope to find some of the best Middle Eastern food in the city.
Not the case here, unfortunately. My lamb chops baked with herbs and served with spinach couscous (520 CZK) were overcooked, fatty, and didn't taste especially herb-y. The couscous was all right, but the dish could have used some kind of sauce, as it was fairly dry. I'd also hoped for more from the chicken tajine (295 CZK), a Moroccan stew of meat, vegetables, and dried fruit slow-cooked in a special clay pot – the chicken was nice and tender, but the tajine lacked the complex blend of spices that is characteristic of North African cuisine.
I did very much like the chickpea shoraba (80 CZK), a hearty soup served with some unfortunately chewy croutons, and the homemade merguezi (lamb sausage, 380 CZK). The selection of teas is good too, though I'd venture to say that charging 100 CZK for a 0.25L pot of Yogi tea (black tea with spices, milk, and honey) might be overdoing it a little.
The wait staff is decent (if sometimes a little forgetful when it comes to refilling drink orders) and seem to do quite well even when the restaurant is very busy. Apparently, however, tips are included – which I didn't realize until we had received our bill and noticed a 3x 100 CZK service charge added to the 3500 CZK total sum. Including service is the restaurant's choice, but since it's not the norm here, it only seems fair to make that fact very clear on the menu so that customers don't over-tip unnecessarily.
So you might end up paying more than you wanted to for food that was pretty good, but not perfect. Will you come back? You just might, especially if you happened to visit Dahab on a Thursday, Friday, or Saturday evening. Those are the days when dinner is accompanied by a keyboardist wailing Arabic songs – and a live belly dancer.
I'll admit that when I heard "live belly dancing," I expected the performer in question to be of the curvaceous Middle Eastern variety. Instead, the dancer was a tall, slim blonde named Šárka, dressed in sheer pants and a jewel-encrusted bra. As she gyrated her hips and smiled seductively at the seated men, including my own male dining companion, I realized that the fascinating story I was in the middle of telling would have to wait. All eyes were on the dancer; she was completely mesmerizing.
At one point, several of the Arabic guests stood up and began dancing, too, and singing and clapping along to the music. Next to my table, a grinning middle-aged couple was recording the performance on a video camera. It turned out that those were Šárka's parents, and they were very proud.
And we, like everybody else – and in spite of Dahab's imperfections – were having a lot of fun.
Dahab
Dlouhá 33
Praha 1 - Old Town
map
Tel: (+420) 224 827 375
Open Mon-Sun 14:00-01:00
photographs 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 Tomáš Krist for Lidové Noviny; all others dahab.cz
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
Food news: Buddha Bar opens, Prague discovers fusion food, and a Czech team debuts at the Bocuse
Last Thursday, the long-awaited Buddha Bar Hotel held a massive grand openin
g party -- an affair notable for its many czelebrity attendees, a live electric violin interpretation of Metallica, and some very uninspired hors d'oeuvres (tomato and mozzarella balls on toothpicks, for one). The Buddha Bar Restaurant and its upstairs lunch spot, Siddharta Café, are ready for business, too, offering fancily-priced Asian food along with Caesar salads, club sandwiches, and other room service standards.
Around the corner from Buddha Bar, another newly-opened upscale hotel, the Barcelo, has introduced a fusion restaurant of its own: Zlatý Anděl Fusion Restaurant & Café. The kitchen is headed up by the respected French chef Martial Clement, who recently bailed on his short-lived post at Zahrada v Opeře. No word yet on who will replace Mr. Clement in the RFE building restaurant.
Pish-posh members' club LS Club will officially launch this month in the Old Town space formerly occupied by La Scene and (later) La Scena. Its amenities are to include a Library, Crystal Bar, and a signature eatery, Restaurant Shiso. The restaurant will be run by freshly-imported English chef Paul Day -- who specializes, naturally, in Asian cuisine.
Kampa Park sous chef Jan Všetečka traveled to Lyon last week to represent the Czech Republic in the final round of the prestigious international cooking competition Bocuse d'Or. Všetečka and his team placed fourteenth out of twenty-four countries, a very respectable ranking for the first Czech team ever to participate in the Bocuse. 2009's top honors went to Norway (gold), Sweden (silver), and France (bronze).
photos: buddha-bar-hotel.cz, barcelo.com, lsclub.cz, bocusedor.com
