Being the squeakiest in the group has its advantages — your friends are forced to give in to your unbearably high-pitched requests. That’s what I sneakily discover on a recent holiday in Prague.
The Wenceslas Square, one of the popular squares in the New Town of the city, is lined with little bars, cafes and restaurants. While the square lies deserted, these eateries are bustling with people. Each one has got a quirky character of its own, and that’s why we find ourselves popping in and out of various bars — a drink here and a quick bite there. Finally, when its time for dinner, is when my shrill skills come in handy. One friend wants the Big Mac at McDonald’s (“It’s not available in Chennai,” she reasons); the other wants a boring but healthy grilled chicken-stuffed whole wheat baguette and I want a traditional Czech meal. Of course, I win and in we go to a little wooden Czech restaurant tucked away in a quiet alley.
The menu lists interesting dishes with complicated names. Svíèková na smetanì is a popular dish that’s been on my mind for a while. It’s also easier to pronounce, so that’s what I go with. Beef sirloin marinated with vegetables, it comes in a stew with cream sauce, along with delicious bread dumplings. There’s a bit of dark plum compote poured on top that adds to the flavour. The dish is rich, flavoursome and filling.
“Want something local to drink? Try becherovka,” suggests a bartender and hands us a glass. Herbs and spices go into this drink apart from its “secret ingredients” and it’s apparently great for digestion. To me, it tastes a bit like Sambuca, only much more potent. But then, I am a lightweight. A couple of sips and I look flushed. The friends finish their beers and gently take away my drink. “That’s enough for you,” says one, as she finishes the rest of my drink.
And then it’s a long, tottering walk back to the hotel, interrupted by stops for trdelnik (a cylindrical, flaky, sweet pastry of Slovakian origin that tastes of walnut and cinnamon — even after numerous helpings, I am still not sure how to pronounce it right) at roadside kiosks and a few more bottles of the local star — becherovka.
