The Two Week Eat-a-Thon or "Czech Food Challenge"

Prelude:

On November 11^th while many Americans celebrate Veteran’s Day, the Czech, and many other nations throughout Europe, celebrate St. Martin’s Day. Some people compare it to the American Thanksgiving, as it is the “Feast of St. Martin”. It celebrates the end of the harvest and the inevitability of winter.

On this day the parents and children of my town gathered in the Kindergarten playground with lanterns and torches and we walked through out the town with “St. Martin” as our guide, passing out paper snowflakes to on lookers (lampion festival) Many of children wore antennas on their heads pretending to be beetles who begin their “rest” for the winter season. On a side note, I am happy to report that our St. Martin was not ‘riding around town on a white horse’ (Martin přijíždí na bílém koni), which may just mean we are safe from the snow for a little while longer. To celebrate St. Martin’s Day, and the weeks before the Advent (which is kind of like the weeks of feasting), many of the restaurants in town have special dishes centering on husa, or goose. I have yet to try this.

In honor of St. Martin’s Day (although past) and Thanksgiving (soon to be encroaching on the waists of my fellow Americans), I bring you my own version of the two-week eat-a-thon to celebrate the harvest bounty and the melding of my two homes. I might even try goose!

Beginning:

For the past three months, I have had an overwhelming fear of the Czech restaurant. Not because I do not think I will enjoy the food, but simply because I feared not actually knowing what I was ordering. This week and the weeks proceeding, I have decided that the time has come to abandon this fear all together, thus the Czech Restaurant Challenge has been born. In homage to my hometown of the “good eats”, I will put Czech Cuisine head to head with some of the more infamous Chicago establishments (although, I will write, without hesitation, that Chicago still makes the best hamburgers in the world.

The Rules:

There is only one rule: try a new restaurant or new Czech cuisine--one I have not already had served to me in my school canteen.

I am happy to report that this week our victories have been tenfold! Not only did I try a new restaurant, an altogether to new “experimental” dish, but also the lovely Ava, můj rodiny Babička, prepared homeade Svičkova in honor of Aleš’s birthday.

The ceremonious restaurant where I finally broke down and had my first official Litomyšl dining experience was the infamous U Kolji. I am not quite sure if it is infamous, but I have had many people recommend it to me. It is a Ukrainian Restaurant (but because it is in Litomyšl it counts) and I was thankful that I could review the menu online several times before I made my way over, thus avoiding the potential of me staring blankly at the menu, crying, and going home hungry because is didn’t know what I should order.

The entire menu was enticing, but after much review, on this smoggy Tuesday, I finally decided upon the traditional Boršč and Holbuci. I was not disappointed. The boršč was incredible as I had been told it would be. The Holbuci was also delicious-it is hard to screw up steamed cabbage wrapped around meat mixed with rice covered in a wicked cream sauce.

One thing I have forgotten about eating such delicious food is that cramping that begins post a good meal. You know, where you have stuffed yourself beyond comprehension and you have to slouch because your posture has been swallowed up along with the food. Yea, that one, but it is so worth it.

The second dining out experience occurred last Saturday after my friend, Tomáš, and I returned from our walking venture in Budislav, where we nearly made it back to Borka before dark. He took me to this little restaurant and gave me my first experience with tatarský biftek, colloquially steak tartare (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steak_tartare). A skeptic at first; I was not immediately sold on the raw beef and egg idea. After a brief explanation of what this was (and yes, although not traditionally Czech) and a reference to Mr. Bean I thought I was ready. It was sooooooooooooooo good. Okay, maybe not the most appetizing thing to look at, but it is really fun to play with. You mix the beef and egg with all these different ingredients and spices like: ketchup, dijon, capers, onions, dried parsley, and other UFO (Unidentifiable.Food.Objects). Then you spread it on toast. The best part was realizing that you could smear garlic on toast! This blew my mind--& yes, I have had garlic bread, but this was different. In addition, thanks to Tomáš, I have found out where the Czech hide the dark beer- in pubs hidden in the middle of nowhere. So happy to have dark beer back in my life.

& Now I save the best for last. Today, or rather Thursday, was Aleš Birthday (he is growing up so fast) and today we had a huge, massive, epic, birthday lunch. After eating so much food, all we could do was roll around on the floor, but maybe that was just me. A couple weeks ago I met the families grandmother, Ava, and we shared some piva over at my favorite pub-Veselka. We talked about Czech cuisine and my Czech Dad said that Ava made the best Svičková and she promised that she would make it. Today she went above and beyond. Svička means candle, so for the sake of my poor Czech I almost want to call it candle meat, but it’s most certainly not. It is a delicious, tender, marinated beef that is served with knedlíky (steamed bread dumplings –yum yum J) and omáčka (sauce, and in this case a thick creamy sauce made from carrots, parsley, turnip, &… other goodness). It is not hard to understand why this is a signature Czech dish. Incredible. To top it all off there was a cake that I cannot even begin to go into detail about.

Overall, I would call this first week of the “restaurant” challenge a raging success. I have a few other signature Czech dishes that I must try before I can consider this challenge a wrap. These include: bramborák, vepřo knedlo zelo, & the notorious, smažený sýr.

My only regret for this post is that I do not have pictures of our epic family meal nor many of my other restaurant ventures—next time.

Next week Prague, where my missions are few, but grand!

Fotky

Poor iPhoto shot of Lampion Festival and St. Martin--I should invest it a night time camera.

What I am happy St. Martin has not brought to Litomyšl, yet. He can so stick it in the mountains.

Borščing it.

Tackling the Holbuci...

A slouch worthy American meal-circa autmer (summer/autumn) 2010 New York

Working off the slouch from the eat-a-thon by observing others partake in physical activity- floorball (see floorball videos).

& the kicks here are still the same.

It appears many of us in this home have an affinity for taking pictures atop children's toy riding horses. It's just too bad I don't have a sombrero on. :)

Kotelna-Music Clubbing

On a note of full disclosure: While I am still recuperating form the events of last night, I was all to eager, to expose the Czech music scene that I was graciously invited to partake in yesterday. Aleš, you know you are the best.

Last night was my first experience in the Kotelna, Music Club Litomyšl. This had been a place of great intrigue, mystery, a place that I would walk by at least once a week always wondering when I, Victoria Sroka, would step foot beyond those red doors into the abyss, finally hearing, with my own ears, the music reverberating off the walls. Yesterday, it was finally my turn.

The first thing I noticed was how intimate the space is. I love music, but get me in a big room like the All State Arena or even UIC Pavilion and I will freak the f*ck out. Kotelna is great though and is a lot like Double Door, before the indoor smoking ban.

When you walk in it is a breeze, you’re not fumbling for your ID, there’s no bouncer looking you up and down, and while you have to push past people (literally I think every Litomyšlan from 18-35 were there) you are still able to sidle your way to the front without much effort and fewer beer spills.

The cocktails were the second thing I noticed, mainly one (for originalities sake and how it made me nostalgic for warm summer nights, watching movies projected of the balconies of friends apartments). This cocktail was “The Big Lebowski”. I did not order one, although I was tempted, maybe next time. Nothing gets me quite in the mood to dance my face off like vodka, Kahlua, & cream --read pop culture section. The gang and I stuck to beers and I was again reminded that my Czech language skills (specifically ordering) are not as up to snuff as I once thought. I do not know what I would do with out my “designated translator” and the people of Litomyšl who cut me some slack when I speak in English.

I shall reiterate that the concert was awesome! The band we were there to see was WOHNOUT. They are an indie-alternative band with a ton of endurance; I have never jumped so much at a concert! Back in the states my dance moves are notorious for being… well there is video somewhere, anonymously I hope. However, here I have finally found people who dance the same way I do, pointer fingers and all. That is right, my finger dance is back! That said my dance moves were no match for the three, sloshy, older woman who were moshing and attempting to make out with the security guard for 80% of the show- I wish I had taken video.

After the show, Aleš and I accosted the band for signatures and I got all four of them to sign my ticket. This might have had something to do with the fact that I am from Chicago and very few Americans can be found dancing like crazy at the Litomyšl music club. They very friendly and took time to chat and take pictures.

& now pictures…

Guitar player from unknown opening band. I talked to him briefly as I was leaving. Evidently he had been to Chicago, but actually just the airport.

Saxophone from the opening band.

Wohnout!

More Wohnout....

Jan & I. He was sweet and told me that these guys would be in New York come January.

Wohnout Set list. Pepiěi was fantastic

The evidence and proof.

& because it's funny...Czech polygamy.

Dušičky

Note: As a prelude to todays writing, I must warn that the ruminations below are a bit more somber than usual. This is not because the writer is melancholy, but rather this day calls for commemoration and a greater restraint of humor in attempt to pay homage to the dead.

In my latter years, I cannot claim to be a proponent of organized religion. This is not to say I am not curious, nor does it mean that I do not entertain conversation surrounding the topic of faith and spirituality. Nevertheless, for me, religions primary function for the past several years has been to answer that lurid question of “what happens when you’re dead?” After several feeble and deplorable attempts to answer this question, I hung up the religion hat in a quest for something else.

When I was younger, it was easier. Some how my Grandma June can always seem to recollect that moment when I was about seven and brazenly said to her, “You know, you are going to die some day...”

However, today is not about this… entirely.

I have never particularly warmed to the idea of death and before today, walking in a graveyard at dusk was never something I felt inclined to do. However, remember, I am in Czech and my inhibitions have been left some 7,000 miles on the stoop of a distant castle.

On November 2^nd the Czech ‘celebrate Dušičky, which is something akin to “All Souls Day”. This holiday is practiced all over the world under many different names and forms, but the central theme of all the holiday is the same, a celebration and remembrance of the dead. You have probably seen pictures of Mexico’s Day of the Dead, which is the same Holiday. When I first heard about the Holiday I mildly associated it with a Czech version of “Halloween”, which is supposedly ‘not’ celebrated here. Given the Halloween extravaganza held at the gymnasium-school- I would beg to differ (evidence below). Some people still claim that Dušičky is the “Czech Halloween” (i.e. Prague blog ). Having now witnessed and participated in this holiday, I am a little ashamed to have originally thought this was simply another pagan holiday.

After my students blatantly guffawed at my Czech pronunciation of Dušičky (I am improving!) I asked them what this holiday meant for them. Perhaps it was difficult to explain with the language barriers, or the fact that at that age students do not want to talk to anyone, but what I got out of them was that there were many candles involved. Not knowing exactly what to expect and armed with only camera, candle, and salt to ward off the spirits, I embarked to the Litomyšl cemetery for my Dušičky adventure.

I am attempting to make light of this moment, but the sight of the cemetery was overwhelming and stirred emotions. Unbeknownst, I found myself part of the mass exodus of Litomyšlans to the graves of their dead ancestors. For once, I felt I was part of the pilgrimage and part of this town. I did not need language to be able to remember.

When I took my first steps into the cemetery I was amazed at the amount of light and life that was inside. Not only were their many people, but also most graves had their own flower gardens atop the tombs with a host of candles.

I walked and watched the people light candles, brush the fallen leaves off the tombs, adorn the tombs with wreaths and flowers, and some stand huddled together. I watched the children giggle, the mother’s hold their children close, and dusk slowly roll into black.

I wondered whom the people were lighting candles for... The old woman. Candles for her Husband? Her Grandparents? Her Friends? Her Children? I scanned the dates on the headstones, admiring the ages and the history these people had lived through. 1901-1987; 1902-1964; 1898-1916. a State creation, WWI, WWII, a Communist occupation, and separation from Slovakia, but here, in this cemetery, their lives are marked with brevity and numbers.

A while back, Aleš, the family, and I went on an epic bike adventure around the outskirts of town. One of our stops was at an abandoned Jewish cemetery (strange to use the word abandoned). Jewish cemeteries were not allowed to be in the town limits. At this cemetery the stones we cracked and overlapping. The Communists had destroyed the headstones and cemetery during their twenty-year occupation. Tonight I wonder if that cemetery is as lit up and alive, as it should be.

It seemed almost fortuitous that I stumbled upon a black bird resting atop a gravestone. The event and moment something directly out of an Edgar Allen Poe poem, but lacking the metaphor.

The meaning of my last name derives from the polish word magpie, or blackbird.

It was not a full moon and the black birds tail didn’t have the swatches of a magpie, but I felt moved to remember at least one of my ancestors. & So this evening I lit a candle for my grandfather, Frank, who I have never met, but who I will always honor in the memorial I made for him, behind a large tree, at one of the corners of the Litomyšl Cemetery.

Felt strange to take pictures.

From the unadorned, but remembered here...

To the fantastical.

Can you find the black bird?

The lighting of the Dušičky candle.

Near the sight of my candle.

Arlington, please.

....