Vezměte mě na štrůdl, prosím!

I like food. I like trying new things, experimenting – I’ll eat anything once, many times twice. I ascribe to the Anthony Bourdain/Andrew Zimmern doctrine – that one of the best ways to understand or appreciate a new culture is by eating its food. Which is why Prague has been a mecca for my religion.

I have had – undoubtedly – one of the best meals of my life in a tiny café looking onto the underside of Charles Bridge. The soft, red interior was warming – the paint pulsed a soothing glow in the afternoon light, and the pint of Pilsner Urquell – its amber muted in my palm – was light and refreshing. And I waited in anticipation until it arrived, carried by a congenial man in a shirt too-tight, steaming and diffusing its scent in a billowing cloud: roasted duck with dumplings on a bed of cranberries and cabbage.

I lost some of my innocence that afternoon.

If traditional Czech food is not your thing, and you prefer greasy heart-stopping street sausage, then come to Prague! For about $3 USD you can order up all the culinary pleasure one can appropriately enjoy in public. And the best part – the carts are open well past midnight.



If you want something a bit sweeter, Prague has – based on multiple reviews – the best strudel in all of Europe. It was a bit of a trek finding the place – we had to take several trams and metros into one of the residential districts, hike through a park and wind our way to the storefront, tucked in an alcove beneath an apartment complex. But the strudel – about half the length of my forearm and just as wide around – was a taste explosion, and for only $2.50 USD I’m surprised the man stays in business.

So děkuji, Prague! I leave you enlightened, full, and with a renewed faith in food.