Restauracja Barmaska

Walking to the Castle Inn from the Old Town Square one afternoon—a long way from the hotel breakfast and the evening meal—I passed the Restauracja Bamarska, a large German-styled restaurant (a lovely period place steps from the Royal Palace) that showed Bratwurst, sauerkraut and pommes frites on the menu. This would make a perfect afternoon meal, I thought—and it did.

Bratwurst are a small Nuremberg pork sausage; in their home city they are served grilled past golden brown, four to a roll with mustard, or half-dozen to a plate with frites and kraut. In the Bamarska there were two very large sausages to the serving: Very nicely prepared, they more resembled what American supermarket-shoppers are likely to find in the butcher's case as Bockwurst.

The frites were quite good, crisp and mellow at the center...

And, oh! that sauerkraut...the cabbage creamy, tart and sweet at once. If I could do this dish, I'd do it at every meal.

Cafe Zalatki

I have a few friends in Warsaw, so often I was out on the town running around away from my dad who stayed primarily in Old Town. I always knew where to find him when I made my way back around though, Zalatki. One afternoon I stepped in starving and ordered pierogi, the polish version, stuffed with ground meat, cabbage and mushrooms. Very simple, filling, and at the time of consumption, necessary.

Cafe Zalatki

In Warsaw our center of operations was the Cafe Zalatki, a small bar and restaurant around the corner from Old Town's central Square (Rynek Starego Miasta)—there's also a Rock, Jazz and Blues club in the basement. Though there was a full menu—served not only to in-house customers but to those at tables in the Square—we didn't dine here...but one menu item was difficult not to consider: Next to the “starters” menu was a single item described as Good With Beer. I was waiting for Ezra one afternoon and ordered it to go with my very good Polish beer. It was simply a clay crock filled with pork lard, chunks of fried bacon and pork rind, accompanied by fresh-sliced rye bread and dill pickles.

Well, it was delicious. It had the texture and tasted like lard, of course, but was crisp and rich with bacon flavor. And then there were the pickles—anything but crunchy, they were juicy and had the texture of a fresh avocado...incredible!

There's a reason this dish is not on the “starter” menu: It simply puts an end to long-term appetite...but does it ever go well with beer!?!

Perhaps the only thing an American would want on the table with it—and that beer—is a bottle of “hot sauce”.

Pod Samsonem

Two days before we arrived in Warsaw, tragedy struck. Most of the Polish government perished in a plane crash that sent the capitol city into mourning. For this reason, I thought I'd better do some research on places to eat, thinking much of the city would be shut down and not wanting to have our options completely limited. Turns out not much of anything was shut down, though the research paid off. We found Pod Samsonem just outside of the ghetto wall, and it seemed more of a local eatery than a tourist destination (which can't be said for the majority of restaurants around our hotel.)

We started with a combination platter of "Jewish caviar" (chicken liver, onions, hard boiled egg,) egg and onion salad, beef tartare and salmon in spinach (lox and cream cheese wrapped in a spinach souffle.) Nothing very exciting, but very fresh and seemingly traditional. The caviar was the highlight for me, having never seen anything quite like it, and very easy to eat with only a subtle liver flavor.

For dinner I ordered the meat bouquet with rice and salad, a mixture of different cuts of pork fried in a variety of concoctions and doused with strange sauces. Each bite of meat was consumed with a bit of the cabbage and slaw, and despite the fact that this meal seemed very Polish, the impressions left on my tongue were nothing short of... chinese. Imagine General Tso's chicken as interpreted by a Polish chef with no such intentions.

Pod Samsonem

In Warsaw we ate all our meals in the Old Town or the New Town of the modern city. Both “Old” and “New” are a little misleading when speaking of historic Warsaw: The city was virtually destroyed by the Nazis at the end of WWII—what emerged is a kind of Slavic Los Angeles, a modern and sprawling city of millions. The half-millenium old Old and New Towns,, however, were lovingly and carefully restored—using the rubble from their destruction—by the residents, and are all but indistinguishable from photographs that remain of the city in the 1930s. A regular at the Café Zapatki lovingly referred to this neighborhood of Warsaw (where he lived and worked) as the “theme park” of the city—and it may be, but it’s a vibrant district of a city that doesn’t quite outlive its past.

New Town is separated from the Old Town by a portal in the north section of the reconstructed city wall. Our first meal was here, in a restaurant called Pod Samsonem. Inside, it is bright and spacious, comfortably filling two quiet dining rooms.

We tried two basically Jewish hors d’oeuvres, an Egg and Onion Salad and a “Jewish Caviar”. The former was a delicate combination of the marquis ingredients with little spicing but enough flavor that this was not missed; the latter a brilliant combining of calf’s liver (chicken liver is also commonly used) and chopped eggs—and a not-so-subtle reminder of the trials of the Jews in this great city over the centuries.

The pork roast was the hot course that appeared most appealing on the menu, but I couldn’t bring myself to suffer the irony of ordering it with the Jewish Caviar here at the edge of what had been the Warsaw Ghetto.

For a main course I chose a steak tartare –ground beef, served raw. It’s a dish that in one form or another certainly predates the discovery of fire, though the name is a term in use only 60 years or so.

In the U.S., tartare is usually served seasoned with salt and pepper, onions and capers on the side, and a raw egg settled in an indentation in the top of the meat—all to be mixed in by the diner. In Samsonem’s version the egg and capers were dispensed with, onions and paprika sided on the plate with the beef to be combined according to taste. I thought I would miss the capers and egg, but the ground beef was so lean and flavorful I didn’t think of them after the first bite.

Apropos

Around the corner from our hotel in Copenhagen was a long stretch of restaurants leading to a plaza of some sort, just a block from the train station. Not wanting to stray far from the 'hood our last evening, Pops and I settled in a little cafe, our decision dictated by his desire for french fries (they didn't turn out to be french fries, but hey.) I struggled with the menu for a bit, ultimately being drawn to the "French Burger," paired with capers, beets, onions, horseradish and a sweet relish with a mustard base. The fresh yolk made it, seeping into the burger and giving each bite a sweeter taste. I am avoiding burgers on this trip, so chances are this will be the king of them all, 'cause it was damn good!

Apropos

The Appropos was a bright streetside Copenhagen eatery, as finely appointed as the Madklubben but busier: It seemed like the right place for a burger, of which there were a variety on the menu.

Now, I like burgers. Weened on Seattle's Dick's and the Burgermaster, Frisko Freeze in Tacoma, I'm always looking for a good one (as I do a goulash, shawarma and escargot)—and am too often disappointed in restaurants that only try to outdo the competition in the thickness of their patties and the monument and tomatoes and greens they pile on top of the meat.

The Appropos was a distinct treat.

Their burger—I don't know how many grams, but a little less than a quarter-pound in a hand- formed patty—was gorgeous as well as delicious: The meat was veiled in a veal glace and onion compote, topped with cheese and a slight tomato sauce.

The bun was a treat. Home-made, crispy on the outside and pillowy around the meat, it was cut as a triangle and filled with just enough salad to balance the sandwich (no towering ego-trip on the part of the chef at the griddle).

Delicious.

(Author's Note: I've never had a Wendy's burger, but I've been intrigued by the square patty they use—and rather confused as to why they don't use a square bun...the equivalent are available at Safeway, for God's sake! Wendy's has a butcher, don't they have a baker?

And I wondered why this amazing Appropos burger wasn't formed to match its superb bap.

Ah well...not everyone is as interested in the aesthetics of the hamburger as I.)