Czech Food: Part I

Czechs LOVE Lady Gaga. We heard her yesterday in the pub/cafe and now she's on the sound system again as I write this.

The subtitle of this entry is: Gothaj, Hanácké Tvaružky, and Hermelin, oh my!

We went to a brewpub last night, or a pivo house, and tried some authentic Czech food. We got there too late for dinner, which was disappointing (9:30 p on a Thursday is too late for dinner) but we were allowed to order from the starter menu. We met a bartender who spoke very good English and we asked him for recommendations. He was really nice and also slipped us a couple shots of pear brandy, apparently a drink of choice here. It included a slice of canned pear in the shot glass and I think we watched him make 200 of those shots in the time we were there. Also had FABULOUS beer. Anyway, here goes for the food description. Let's say that so far, I'm not a convert.

First, the Gothaj: This is a plate of "salami" covered in onions. I will post a picture in Czech Food: Part II. However, let me tell you about it. It is sort of a light pink color with white specs and I assume that it is mostly fat and animal parts that I don't want to know about. It literally melts in your mouth--another indication that it's mostly fat. But it's REALLY tasty. My new friend the bartender was teasing me that I didn't want to know what was in it; that it was the worst thing I could eat. He also said it included "nuts and balls." Then he said, just kidding. Whatever. It was tasty.

Next is the Hanácké Tvaružky: as the menu says, local cheese on bread with onion. I don't think I can do this one again. I had two rather large bites and I was done--texture, odor, taste--a perfect storm of things that might not be so bad individually, but gelatinous + the stinkiest cheese you've ever had times 10 + sort of a medicinal almost anise like flavor that hits the back of your tongue (I'm not a black licorice fan) and that was it. The "cheese" didn't seem like a cheese at all. It is apparently soaked in beer to within an inch of its cheesy life where it's still thick like a cheese, but takes on a gelatinous appearance. Won't do that one again. Our bartender said you can't get it anywhere outside the country. Perhaps there's a reason for that.

Third, hermelin--this is called the Czech gorgonzola. I like regular gorgonzola better. This was also covered in onions and perhaps some sort of pickling liquid. It was ok; we spread it on rye bread.

By the way, did you notice that everything was covered in onions?

I mentioned the pear brandy. That was yummy. Apparently everyone makes their own brandy, called Slivovice. Here is a picture of me toasting my friend Stephen King on his new book contract with a pear brandy. Yes, his name is Stephen King. And notice the giant beer, the local brew. YUM.

Finally, after spending a whole $25 including tip on 6 beers and the above mentioned Czech delicacies, we went back to a club we found the night before . . . that actually serves mixed drinks. Praise the Lord, I don't have to drink only beer (by the way, beer is cheaper than water). Ian had a martini and I had a cosmo and it was garnished with this lovely little fruit that the bartender said was a Fisaz (that's what it sounded like). It looked like a small, very compact orange tomato, with lovely long leaves. I don't know what it tasted like, but it was pretty.

Well, that's it for Czech Cuisine: Part I. Check back (ha ha) for Part II which will include pictures of the above mentioned delicacies. Until next time kids, dobrou chut!