Medovník & Marlenka

"It was the best of diets. It was the worst diets. It was the age of honey cakes. It was the age of expanding waistlines."

-Charles Bridge*

I've traveled around the world, and I thought I'd really gotten a deep and intimate understanding of cakes. I've had more than a few. A different cake in every port.

They all have a special place in my heart, if not somewhere else.

Sure, there are many cakes I haven't tried, but it was hard to imagine something new and totally different AND that I would fall in love with.

That such a cake would not be chocolate was hard to imagine. And that there would be two new confections to tear at my affections, well, this was beyond conception.

Then, a few years ago, Medovník and Marlenka came into my life.

First, mainly for those who don't live here, I'll tell you a little about Medovník.
It is a honey cake. It's a creamy brown beauty. It has a light dusting of fine honey cake crumbs and chopped walnut over its creamy icing. The creams between its many layers are unlike any I have known.

I believe that it contains a highly addictive substance that is unlikely to gain EU approval: Pure love.

It might as well be pure opium. There have been times when I have taken a bite and my eyes just roll back in my head. I'm serious. I can't identify exactly what it is, but there is just something about that sweet cream.
The cream between the layers usually looks more white, but I left this one on my desk for a while. It soaked into the cake and turned dark. These delicate cakes must be handled with care.

You also have to make sure you get the original Medovník. Accept no imitations. The problem is, I've seen similar honey cakes in various cafes around Prague. They might be called "honey cake" (medový dort). I've even seem them generically called medovnik, but none are as good as the orginal. You have to know how it looks to be sure.

It is very important to get a fresh one to have the full experience. Hundreds are delivered each daily from a bakery in Prague, but they do go stale fairly quickly. The cake loses its ethereal softness. This is not good.

I've looked at their website, and I believe the cake is also available in Slovakia, Poland, Austria, and Germany.

Then, there is Marlenka. It is also a honey cake, but the icing and filling between they layers are different. Also, while the Medovník is round, the Marlenka is cut into squares from a larger square.
The first time I saw one was during a visit to Mikulov. I was highly skeptical that I would like it. "A Medovník knock-off," I sneered. But I was wrong. V ordered it with her coffee and all the "Mmmmmmm, mmmmmm, mmmmmms," got my attention.

The thing about Marlenka is that its icing and layers are made from something very close in flavor to caramel. I absolutely love caramel. The recipe says it contains condensed milk. Maybe that's the secret.

The cake is a different texture, a little more moist, but still delicious. When I tried it, they actually heated it up, which I haven't had since, but it was just amazing with a coffee.
There is also a "cocoa" version of the Marlenka with white cream in the middle that I think is very good. I can't quite put my finger on it, but it reminds me of some packaged chocolate snack cake from my youth. That's a good thing in my book, But it still doesn't beat the caramel-like version.

Both these cakes, Medovník and Marlenka, have made their name and fame in the Czech Republic, but their origins and recipes come from points further east. For a more layered understanding of thes sweet cakes, you can read this excellent article from 2006 by Mimi Fronczak Rogers in The Prague Post.

So, which is better? I cannot answer. I have Medovník days and Marlenka days. It is a cake-lover's triangle that doesn't bother me in the least.

I wouldn't say these are far, far better cakes than I have ever eaten before. But they are far, far better than many of the other cakes I have ever known.

*Something I came across recently

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Cafe Angelato

Cafe Angelato was so new when I dropped by, there was still brown wrapping paper on the stools. The owner was debating light fixtures. The refrigerators and the gelato case looked brand new, right off the truck.

It is a very small place serving coffees and gelatos, with a good location just across Rytířská from the Tourist Information Center, a block from the bottom of Wenceslas Square. But it is a little hard to spot because the sign out front is rather small.

When I have gelato, I almost exclusivly go for chocolate. I'm willing to mix it with other flavors, like coconut or hazelnut. I'm quite conservative in these matters. The chocolate here looked very rich. But I didn't try it.

Why?

Because V had just made a large, seriously intense flourless chocolate cake. Just for me. I was doing my best to demonstrate my appreciation and eat it all, but I was beginning to overdose. I eventually had to bring some of it to work. A few colleagues helped me finish it.

So?

I ordered a single serving of the mango gelato on a cone. If I had paid, it would be 30 CZK.* This is 20 CZK less than the single serving in the fancy surroundings at Cremeria Milano. The rent must be pretty high down there on Pařížská.

Anyway, I thought the mango gelato was just great. It had a very intense flavor of real mangos. Sweet and sour goodness.
I mentioned to the owner that I thought it was great stuff. He said he uses mangos from India. My friend told me the owner has a factory in Prague that supplies gelato to a number of other shops around the city.

I don't know why, but I've had a thing for mango lately. I recently had a mango daiquiri at La Casa Argentina. In spite of the steaks, I haven't been back in many months, partly because of the service issues I mentioned in my earlier post.

A friend and his wife wanted to go to the swinging chair cocktail bar they have in the back. So we were swinging for a while. Which has it moments.
But my mango daiquiri, which cost 160 CZK, was pretty lousy. It tasted like metalic crushed ice, with a light hint of the tropical fruit.

And I almost forgot to mention it, but the bartender stirred the drink at one point with a spoon, took a taste, then continued stirring. I've seen bartenders do a taste, but then throw the spoon in the sink, but this was something new. If she wasn't so cute, I would have complained, but I let it go.

Honestly, I want to find things to like at La Casa Argentina. I thought the steaks were the best I've had in Prague. They just make it so hard. But the problems I've experienced certainly don't seem to be hurting their business. It was packed to the rafters on a Friday night.

Anyway, where were we? Oh, yeah. Mango gelato.

I didn't try anything else at the place. I had no other gelato, no coffee-based drinks. Nothing.

I can only give my honest, uncorrupted opinion on the mango gelato, entirely uninfluenced by any factor other than my love of mango and my desire to share that with the world.*

I'd say, give it a try if you are walking by.

Cafe Angelato
Rytířská 27
Prague 1

*Full disclosure: My friend is a friend of the owner. My friend invited me to drop by with him. I got a gelato cone from the owner because I was with his friend. He wouldn't take my money. The owner did not know I was going to write about his place. Besides, I cannot be bought for a free gelato. My price is much, much higher than that.

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Bredovský dvůr

The pig, if I am not mistaken
Gives us ham and pork and bacon
Let others think his heart is big
I think it stupid of the pig

-Ogden Nash

You are standing at the top of Wenceslas Square. Your top priority is high quality beer. A decent Czech meal is a requirement, but it comes a distant second.

One more detail. You can't be bothered to walk more than five minutes in any direction.

What will you do?

I, myself, faced this dilemma recently and ran through some options with my dining companions.

I knew that a Pilsner Urquell Original Restaurant was opening in the historic Deminka space on the corner of Škrétova and Anglická.

It still has the Deminka name. And the place now has the same interior style and signage as the Kolkovna Group restaurants, like Kolkovna, Olympia, and Celnice. Given their track record, I'd bet they'll finally make a success out of this long-doomed location.

But this is a story for another time. My friends, V and I were on the hunt for a place to eat several days before the new Deminka opened its doors.

Ferdinanda is a good option, with their own special-brewed 11, 12, and 13 degree beers. But we had just been there recently.

U Pinkasu? Good, but too far. An arduous seven to nine minute walk, depending on the foot traffic. I haven't always enjoyed my food there, either.

In the end, we picked Bredovský dvůr (Breda's Court), one block over from Wenceslas Square. This is a very popular place, with mostly Czech customers, I'd say. It's also why I don't go so often. The restaurant is usually full at prime times.

Bredovský dvůr has a stylish interior, with exposed brick traveling up the walls and continuing to form the arched ceiling. Framed football jerseys hang on the walls. The lighting has an artistic flair.

The same style continues over at the small, narrow bar area, which you have to pass on the way to the rear dining room. There are only a few stools, so it is not the best place for a group to hang out and drink.But the green glow behind the bar is really what the place is all about. Bredovský dvůr is a tankovna, or tank pub. Behind the bar, they have fresh, unpasteurized Pilsner Urquell.The restaurant's website says (in Czech) that "the Pilsner only travels 3 meters between tank and tap (true beer aficionados know what that means)" and then "Thanks to its unique tap system, the beer never comes into contact with air, oxygen, or any other gas, preserving its exceptional taste."

Yes, this is very good beer. They sell it for 32 CZK. I realized how much I love a fresh Pilsner Urquell after a number of trips back to the United States. Every beer I drank, even special microbrews lacked serious character and tasted totally bland in comparison. I missed that bitter kick. Even the Pilsner Urquell I had on tap in Manhattan was flat, stale, and not cold enough.

Only the real deal will do for me now.

I do dream about food, but Czech cuisine is not the food of my dreams. That said, I do enjoy it from time to time. A popular Czech specialty is pork knee (pečené vepřové koleno s kostí). V ordered one for 185 CZK.

It comes on a metal spit, held up by wrought iron over a cutting board. There is mustard, horse radish, and cold sauerkraut. V liked it. There was a lot of good meat on it. The pork was tender and juicy. Sometimes koleno can be extremely fatty, but this one was fine, meaning moderately fatty.

She also ordered something that was basically fried potato pancake batter (bramborové strapačky) for 85 CZK.They were sort of like fried potato pancake fingers and came with warm, sweet red and white cabbage. V thought they would be more a traditional Czech style and didn't like them so much. But I have a weakness for anything fried into finger shapes. I thought they were well-seasoned and tasty. I loved the sweet cabbage.

The restaurant's menu is available on line and has both Czech and English.

A-man got the pork ribs (Pečená vepřová žebírka v medu), also for 185 CZK. They had a honey glaze, which gave them a slightly sweet-salty exterior. They came with the same condiments as the koleno. A-man said he liked them a lot because the big ribs still had pork skin and a fair amount of fat left on them. Others may have different tastes. I had a non-fatty piece, and it was good.

A-man and V both got bread which cost 16 CZK. A glass of white wine was 50 CZK. Tartar sauce was 30 CZK.

At this point, I'll mention the service. Slow, like usual. This is another crowd-related issue that keeps me from coming too regularly.

It took a while before our waitress came over. She got our drinks, then disappeared. Literally. At a certain point, I saw her walking out the front door. Her shift was over. Not even a wave goodbye.

Eventually, a waiter with a few too many tables took over our table and the meal continued.

On balance, despite a few problems, helped by low expectations regarding service, we were reasonably satisfied.

I went back another time with some friends, and we sat in the outdoor section in the courtyard. This is almost always full, as well, and we were lucky a table opened just as we were about to give up.
There are some interesting people watching opportunities, with a glitzy beauty salon and cafe-bar across the courtyard. Women with aluminum foil in their hair sit at small table sipping drinks.

On this day, I was with two people who felt the need to order, shall we say, outside the box. Mr. B got the salmon for 185 CZK. It came with a mixture of pineapple, bacon, and onions. He said that this was the best part. The fish itself was.. Fishy. Not so good. He had rice on the side for 30 CZK.Mr. S ordered the fusilli pasta with chicken for 125 CZK. The menu says it has peas, carrots, leaks, ginger, soy sauce, and vermouth.

I asked him a few days later what he thought of the dish, since I forgot to ask him on the spot. He said it was "unmemorable." A fair and true assessment. He couldn't remember anything about it. Not something I would order.

A Slovak colleague heard me talking about this restaurant, and she told me she was very disappointed with their treatment of the Slovak national dish, halušky (125 CZK).

She explained that the little flour and potato dumplings, similar to Italian gnocchi, were the wrong shape, the Bryndza cheese did not taste right, and the pieces of bacon were too big and not cooked enough.

So, do not judge all halušky by this halušky. It is apparently something close to an insult to the Slovak nation.

My feeling on Bredovský dvůr is that the beer is worth the wait if you can walk in and get a table. And if you are hungry, be smart and get the stupid pig.

Bredovský dvůr
Politických vězňů 13
Prague 1
Tel. (+420)224 215 428

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