229 East 9th Street off St. Mark’s Place and Second Avenue
212/533.6966
about $50 for two, without drinks, with tip
♥ ♥ ♥
One of the few places that still hand-roll and hand-cut their soba noodles is Sobaya, one of my lunch staples. Whether I order a hot bowl of soba or a cold one, I always pick the one with nameko mushrooms. The one with the yam is also good. If you have a large appetite, one of their lunch boxes is an excellent choice.
236 East 9th Street off St. Mark’s Place and Second Avenue
212/353.8503
$5 for one, cash only
More like a shack than a restaurant, Otafuku has been a mainstay of this small block of Japanese stores. They have Japanese pancakes, okonomiyaki, but going to Otafuku means ordering the 6-piece takoyaki, octopus meat rolled into balls and mixed with ginger and scallions and topped with bonito flakes. They’re delicious as appetizers while you wait for a table at Sobaya but they’re also a good alternative to sreet hot dogs when you’re out drinking.
105 Sullivan Street off Spring
212/334.5179
about $25 for two, without drinks, without tip
Known as the Sandwich Nazi to those of us who worked during the dot-com days around SoHo, Alidoro is now bright and airy with its yellow washed walls and friendly successor. I was once shushed by the temperamental sandwich maker while I stood in line for a $9 Geppeto (sopressata, caponata of eggplant, arugula in focaccia bread) so it’s now refreshing to have someone behind the counter smile even if you mispronounce the Italian sandwich names.
Sopressata and arugula in focaccia
It’s easy to assemble a prosciutto, mozarella and artichoke sandwich, making it hard to justify the $10 price (plus, you pay 50 cents to a $1.50 depending on the bread you choose) but everything just tastes better when you don’t have to lift a finger to eat a delicious sandwich.
179 Prince Street between Thompson and Sullivan Streets
212/387.8230
about $80 for two, with two drinks, without tip
The space that Nagomi now occupies has seen different tenants throughout the years. When I’m at The Room, I always end up craving for sushi for dinner which can only mean Blue Ribbon down the block. With Nagomi closer than Marumi across Houston Street, I can now enjoy fairly-priced fresh fish without shelling out more than $40 for ten pieces of sushi and a bottle of Sapporo. I’ve eaten twice since they’ve opened and the uni has been consistently good. The scallop might not be as buttery as Morimoto’s but for $4 a piece, one can’t complain. Have I mentioned that they’re around the corner from The Room?
Czech Republic is landlocked right at the heart of continental Europe. It is surrounded by Austria, Germany and Poland, which is why the traditional food consists of a lot of meat and sauces. The most common meat is vepÅ™ové, or pork, and it is always served with knedlÃky, or what they call dumplings, to soak up the gravy. All dishes almost always come with zelà or sauerkraut.
Meats are often roasted or baked. We were lucky enough to enjoy a plate of rožnÄ›né selátko, or grilled piglet. Thankfully, it came with a serving of vegetable salad. When we were hungry–which was more often than you can ever imagine–we ordered the combo plate of pork, Å¡pekové or duck, and sausages.
For a more homey meal, meat is stewed for hours to make goulash. We tasted a delicious one in thick sauce that used dark ale.
Game is usually served on special occasions. We had rabbit in sauce flavored with thyme and ostrich meat served with pasta. The rabbit was nice, but the ostrich just tasted like tough beef.
We even had baby octopus carpaccio served with arugula greens and drizzled with olive oil and lemon juice. We rarely had dessert but we spoiled ourselves with strudels and other pastries for breakfast or as snacks during the day.
Now all that food needs to go down, and if the Czechs are known for anything, it’s the way they appreciate their pivo, their beer. Pilsner, the most famous Czech beer, originated in Bohemia, a region in central Europe which occupies the western and middle thirds of Czech Republic. Pilsner was first brewed in a town called Plzeň and the same brewery that developed it still makes Plzňské or what we know as Pilsner Urquell.
Another famous Czech beer is České Budějovice or Budweiser Budvar. Budvar and Anheuser-Busch are still engaged in numerous trademark lawsuits around the world.
Each pub is supplied by only one brewery, or pivovar, but different types are usually available. No Czech beer lover ever drinks it canned as it is usually made for export. (Something I learned in Ireland and their Guinness.) Together with Plzňské from Plzeň comes Gambrinus.
Prague has its own, Staropramen, and there is also Krušovice Light from Královský.
All of the above are light and golden in color; foamy and refreshing at the end. I liked them fine, but my favorites were the dark lagers, Velkopopovický Kozel and U Fleků’s own tmavé brew.
If you can’t make up your mind, there is a combination of light and dark called Rezane, also from Velkopopovický. If you want the more familiar, of course there’s always the Belgian Stella.
When you enter a pub, you’re given a small piece of paper so that the waiter can tally your order. It’s a given that you’re going to drink beer, no matter what time it is. Beer will just keep coming to your table until you say something to your server otherwise.
We drank nine different kinds of beers each in three days! Not to mention the multiple quantities we drank of each kind. Just thinking of that feat deserves another beer!
Related post/s:
Prague photos on Flickr
Day 3: Astronomical Clock, Havel Market, Jewish Quarter, Charles Bridge
Day 2: Prague Castle, Lvi Dvur, Petrin Hill, Wenceslas Square
Day 1: Three Kinds of Beer, First Few Hours in Prague
