There’s been a bit of discussion on expats.cz lately on the subject of decent sushi in the Czech Republic. When I first arrived in Prague, sushi was pretty much limited to a few overpriced restaurants in the centre. Since the opening of Makakido Running Sushi at Palladium, however, I’ve definitely noticed something of a knock-on diversification in the sushi market of late, with several new cheaper places such as Yuan Dong on Revoluční or Sushi Tam Da on Perunová opening up recently, offering more reasonably priced sushi options of corresponding variable quality.

In search of a decent sushi joint that wouldn’t break the bank, I headed down to Baifu Running Sushi at Bělehradská 75 (no website) last night to check out their sushi belt option. I’m not sure how long this place has been open, but they offer a daily “all you can eat” option at 199kč / 259kč (afternoons / evenings). They also offer fixed sushi platters ranging from 69 – 199kč.


I arrived at about half five to find the place empty and the belt not yet operating, but with a sushi chef chopping away diligently in the corner, they were clearly making moves to get the evening getting up and running. In the meantime I ordered a hot sake at 69kč and read my book for a bit, as the place steadily started filling up around me.


After about five minutes the belt started moving, but with only non-sushi dishes such as mini spring rolls, fried wontons, deep-fried chicken etc as yet on offer. Most of these looked a bit withered and had probably been hanging around since the afternoon, so I contented myself with a couple of prawn crackers and a not particularly inspiring cabbage salad until the sushi itself started coming round.




Having by now also made quick work of the sake, at this point I also ordered a glass of Muller Thurgau at 45kč, which actually came as a carafe.


Another ten minutes and the sushi itself finally started making an appearance, so far all either simple maki rolls (which I always think are a bit boring) or variants of the inside-out California or Philadelphia roll in some way, with imitation crab, avocado, salmon, cream cheese, green tobiko, lettuce and cucumber all employed in various combinations. Plentiful ginger and wasabi were also rotating round the belt if I needed to stock up at any time.






They were all passable, but with a definite overdependence on cheaper ingredients such as surimi and cucumber rather than actual quality cuts of fish. Some pieces passing by on the belt seemed quite clumsily made – the ones photographed are obviously the best of the bunch.

I also picked out what I can only guess to be a big blob of deep-fried surimi masquerading as shrimp. I’m ashamed to say that I went on to eat three of these babies – I couldn’t help myself, I am after all a documented surimi addict (I strongly suspect they secretly mix in crack cocaine along with all that lovely fish slurry and artificial E-numbers).


Only towards the end of my meal did I start to see any nigiri and sashimi coming round. I was getting on for full at this point, but for the sake of review picked out a sake nigiri as well. This was pretty disappointing, coming topped with a not particularly fresh nor well cut piece of salmon. I much preferred the rolls I’d had earlier.


To round off, I picked out a couple of hot sweet dumplings stuffed with one of my favourite Asian foodstuffs from childhood, red bean paste (perhaps laced with the same addictive substances as surimi, who knows…?). These were probably my highpoint of the meal, taking me right back to my early days as a kiddie expat in Singapore - except for that in those days me and my brother used to regularly get handed these and similar teeth-rotting treats free in shops and markets simply by virtue of being blonde and cherubic at the time… Ahh, happy days… :-))



Apart from the disappointing nigiri, I’d overall quite enjoyed my meal here. It was certainly not the best sushi you’ll find in Prague by a long way, but it was at least freshly made and among the best value to be found in the city. I’d say the quality compared to Makakido in Palladium, but at a good 100 – 150kč cheaper and with a fraction of the competition for a seat.

Next time I need a wasabi fix I will definitely head down here, but with the proviso in mind that, like anything in life, I will indeed be getting what I pay for…

In all my many years living in Prague, for no particular reason until starting this blog I had never yet sampled a sausage from one of the ubiquitous stands lining Wenceslas Square.

Maybe I’d heard too many off-putting stories of dodgy after-effects. Maybe I have just never fallen prey to the post-booze munchies in that particular part of town. Or maybe I am simply more of a good old gyros girl at heart.

Either way, it was without doubt at long last time to right this wrong.

And so on my next visit to Wenceslas Square, I headed to the stand on the corner of Vodičkova, for the sole reason that it’s the one I always pass on the number 9 tram and therefore stuck in my mind.


It’s another good six months till Christmas, but in my world t’is always the season for svařak.


In the event, my virgin bite of Wenceslas sausage was into a Vaklavská klobása (like all the sausages on the square, priced at around the 50kč mark).


Yes, that is a lot of mustard - when it comes to condiments, I go hard baby.

Despite blogging appearances, I’m actually a pretty dedicated healthy eater / exerciser, and this amount of concentrated fat at one time was quite a lot for my system to take – I swear I could feel the grease start to ooze out of my pores as I ate… For this amount of calories, I quite frankly didn’t think the Vaklavská was worth it – it wasn’t all that tasty really, and I kind of got bored eating it halfway through.

On the next visit, I tried the Bavorská klobása from a neighbouring stand. I asked to have it with brown bread rather than the rohlik the server initially reached for (is it me, or are rohliks, so beloved by the Czechs, simply a stale, chewy abomination to bready kind? – I don’t care if they do only cost 2kč, I still don’t see the appeal...). It came served with a large portion of fried onion, which I love, in this case in fact far more so than the sausage itself, which I found a bit tasteless with an unpleasantly squishy texture. I imagine that’s actually how it’s supposed to be, but still, not quite my bag really...


At this point, I was understandably starting to tire of my as yet less than successful, self-imposed sausage-seeking mission, and was beginning to doubt that klobása and I were even compatible at all – after all, I’d clearly gone this long in Prague without feeling the need to indulge, so why persist in my vain attempts at sausage appreciation now...?

And then, in one final last-ditch attempt, I tried the Pražská klobása.


Jackpot!!! This tasty variety reminded me more of Hungarian klobása in its spicy flavour and distinctive redness of the meat, and after my previous failed attempts I was really pleased to have finally found something to genuinely hit my S-spot. It was, of course, no less fatty and greasy than my two previous versions, the difference being that this time I actually felt the sacrifice was worth it (though on my fifth and final consecutive day of 100 length compensatory swims afterwards, I was - understandably - no longer quite so sure...).

So all in all, I wouldn’t say I was quite a klobása convert yet, and when it comes to meaty post-drinking bites, my loyalties are still firmly in the kebab camp.

That said, I’ve now tried a new thing at least, and finally undergone a belated Prague rite of passage – now, having taken a good four years to actually get round to it, I think I can happily wait another four until my next Wenceslas round! ;-))

“A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though he knows that you are slightly cracked.” – Bernard Meltzer

“Football is a fertility festival - eleven sperm trying to get into the egg. I feel sorry for the goalkeeper.” – Björk

Sorry to harp on with the egg / football related contextual quotes. Fact is I was at vegetarian restaurant Radost with the All-Brit Female Review Crew for a pre-match brunch yesterday, and in the absence of other traditional meat-based brunch staples such as sausages, bacon, ham etc, there was no getting away from the fact that eggs in their various ways, shapes and forms pretty much dominated the menu here. Let’s hope YouTube is not right in its hypothesis that eggs might just have feelings too...


I’d been to vegetarian bar / restaurant / club Radost several times before in the evening, and even celebrated my last birthday there with drinks and dinner with the girls. This is not because I particularly like the food itself, which is non-descript at best, or the service, which is almost without fail painfully slooooooooooooow, no. Rather, Radost’s appeal for me lies in that it's a good “catch all” place to hold an informal get-together, where people can turn up as and when, order drinks or food as they like, and just sit back and relax in their atmospheric interior.





This was my first time ordering from their weekend brunch menu, however, which largely consisted of omelettes, scrambled eggs, bagels (with egg) and breakfast burritos (yup... also with egg). As a concession to the ovum-averse, the menu also features waffles, French toast, muffins and the odd cheese / tofu / peanut butter and banana etc sandwich option instead.

As for us, we collectively kicked off with coffee and bottled Cappy orange juice. The coffee was regularly brought round at intervals for free refills, but was unfortunately quite watery and stale, as well as coming served with only those piddly little UHT sachets rather than proper fresh milk.


Based on Prague Ginge’s rave review from her last visit, three of our party (including myself) went for the smoked salmon and cheese omelette at a hefty 185kč. And here's me thinking that salmon was a fish and not a vegetable all these years...


This came served with some lightly spiced diced potatoes and two slices of buttered not-quite-toast. I really enjoyed the rich, creamy omelette, with its generous flakes of smoked salmon fillet, oozing cream cheese and topping of fresh dill, but it was undeniably very filling – I’d definitely have preferred a light side salad to the heavy potato accompaniment, the majority of which I ended up leaving.

Girl in Czechland went for the Big Brain Scram at 135kč, which the menu described as “three eggs scrambled with spinach and enclosed in potatoes”.


We’d contemplated when ordering how the scrambled eggs could potentially be served “enclosed” in potatoes, imagining such creative options as stuffed potato skins and the like, but in the end they simply came dished up on top of the same variant of diced potato as before – clearly the “scram” in question had since made a successful bid for eggy freedom, in turn subjugating its previous carbohydrate conquerors...

Miss Not-Appearing-in-this-Review went for the Italiano omelette at 155kč, which came cooked with sautéed courgette (or zucchini, if you will) and topped with marinara sauce and parmesan. She described it as a kind of “pizza omelette” and commented that it was pretty tasty, but also very filling.


Though we obviously didn’t have our eggs accompanied by the traditional British bacon on this occasion, we were at least happy to have our good old Heinz tomato ketchup on condiment standby. Some things just never change... ;-))


As with most visits to Radost, the company predictably outmatched the food on this occasion, with service typically slow and with a tendency to sneaky overcharging on drinks.

Nevertheless a good time and reasonable repast were still had by all, with everyone collectively disbanding a couple of hours later to look on in traditional British underdog resignation as a mighty Germany inevitably proceeded to kick a woeful England’s arse in the footie yet again.... final score 4-1 to the Germans.

Egg on our face indeed...

Just because I happen to live contentedly alone in my little Holešovice studio does not mean that I necessarily want to subsist on my classic standby of Norsky Salat pasta and Maggi-Mee noodles every night in between all my many and varied restaurant visits lately.

For this reason, quite often I’ll cook up a big batch of something at the weekend, freeze half, and then live of the other half for the rest of the week – this week’s job lot, for example, being my Mum’s delicious red wine sauce.

This is dead easy to make, but time-consuming in that it needs a good couple of hours to condense down to a really flavoursome sauce. Basically all you need to do is finely chop two large onions and two garlic cloves and sauté in olive oil till tender. Then add three tins of chopped tomatoes, a few glugs of red wine (any cheap plonk will do, keep the good stuff for drinking yourself!), a handful of mixed herbs, some black pepper, and bring to the boil. Turn the temperature down and simmer on a low heat for up to two hours, until the sauce becomes really thick.

Serve with fresh basil and parmesan on pasta, or with roasted aubergine and feta cheese.




Yum... ;-))

In the course of one of my many long, severely saddle-sore incurring, restaurant scouting sessions across Prague by bike (the sacrifices I make for you, dear readers…), I happened to stumble upon a little Polish bakery / café down a Holešovice side street called Vila Baltika.


My curiosity piqued, I decided to make a break in my epic cycling mission and pop in for a spot of well-deserved lunch.

The interior was surprisingly compact (“bijou” some might say), with just a tiny seating area in the corner and a little counter with fresh cakes, quiches and baskets of fresh bread out on display. There's no fixed menu as such, but rather the friendly staff there verbally run through the couple of soups and small selections of mains they have available that day (also written up on the board outside).






I still had much of Prague yet to cover on the bike and didn’t particularly want to do it with indigestion, so kept it light on this occasion with just the pumpkin soup at 50kč. This was a pretty sizeable portion, and came served nicely presented with two varieties of bread. It was pretty nice, but could definitely have done with a bit more zing. I would have liked to have some salt and pepper on hand to season it with.


Later on the same day, I popped back in the evening to see how Vila Baltika fared with its mains. The friendly staff member on hand (who as it happened, turned out also to be the owner as of two weeks) was self-confessedly surprised to see someone come in to eat in the evening, though according to their (rather charmingly incomplete) website, they stay open till 10pm each day. In our ensuing chat, he told me that he’d only recently taken over the place, and was still in the process of converting it from previous bakery to full-blown café with a variety of breakfast, lunch and dinner options.

He apologized for not having all of the day’s dishes available by this point, but luckily for me the pierogi, the one thing I’d most wanted to sample at a Polish café, were still available in various varieties (as I recall, mashed potato and cheese, cabbage and mushrooms, spinach or meat). I went for the first option, and while I was waiting enquired about the small wine range they had out on display behind the counter. Apparently all the wines on offer are newly bought in from France, and (to the owner’s knowledge) in Prague sold uniquely here. In the event I ended up going on his recommendation, namely a nice glass of crisp cold Rosé d’Anjou. As there was about 0,3l left in the bottle, he politely asked if “I would mind” having an extra large glass for the same price – naturally I was only too happy to oblige.... ;-))


After a short wait (not that I minded, I had my stonking great glass of rosé to work through) the pierogi arrived. I’ve only been to Poland the once and even that was some years ago, so I can’t comment on the authenticity as a dish, but I for one thought they were pretty tasty, especially with the pieces of fried onion on top. They definitely tasted home-made to me at any rate.


Having spent most of the day on the bike with only the soup earlier to sustain me, I’d come hungry, and even after my dish of filling Polish dumplings still found I had plenty of room for dessert. As usual when it comes to afters, I went for the cocoa option with their rich and delicious chocolate cake (acceptable only because I’d burned up compensatory calories via my long hours on the bike during the day…). It was a big slice and, despite its undoubted deliciousness, too much for me to finish in its entirety.


Finally I had an espresso to round off with, and also noted that they stocked a range of Harney’s tea.


All in all, the bill for wine, pierogi, coffee and cake came to 215kč, but as I paid at the till and forgot to ask for a receipt afterwards, I’m not sure what exactly cost what. Either way, I thought it fairly reasonable value for what I’d had.

Which pretty much sums it up this week for little Vila Baltika. If you don’t mind the fact that it’s a bit of a work in process, that you may have to cosy up with your dining companions in the limited seating space available, and that the menu is a something of a “pot luck” affair, I’d definitely recommend giving the place a try for lunch if you’re in the area – at the very least, you’re certainly assured of a warm welcome!

Going on the recommendation of my Portuguese colleague, one weekend Mr K and I headed down to V & A Wine Merchants near Jiřího z Poděbrad (not to be confused with the, in my admittedly biased opinion, vastly superior V & R Imports in Karlin) on the - in the event false - premise that they apparently stocked the elusive variety of traditional Portuguese green wine there.

Mr K was feeling peckish, so ordered a couple of cheeses from the selection on offer, the goat’s cheese and the Grès des Vosges at 50kč for the two.

These came beautifully presented with capers and cherry tomato garish and accompanied by a basket of pumpkin bread. Mr K happily munched his way through every slice of cheese but a token one, clearly employing the normally feminine logic that it only counts as greedy should you actually eat them all.

For the sake of comparison, we also took a couple of bottles home – this time round a Lebanese white and a Georgian red. I forget the exact prices, but they were on the cheaper end of the shop’s range at between 150kč and 180kč each. The Cave Kouroum Blanc Perle 2009 was drunk the following night (needless to say, wine doesn’t hang about very long chez Knedlikova...), and the Marani Saperavi dry red not long after that – both of which went down very with both myself and Mr K. I’ll leave the flowery descriptions to the vineyard websites of Cave Kouroum and Tiflisi Marani – Jilly Goolden sadly I am not.