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Showing posts with label oysters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label oysters. Show all posts

Tuesday, August 30, 2011

Of Oysters, Lobster Tail & Cocktails


The oysters at Zdenek's

I love oysters (see my post about my 50th birthday trip to Whitstable, the oyster capital of England). Daisy loves oysters, too.

So it was not without a small degree of excitement that I read Brewsta's review of Zdenek's Oyster Bar, a new restaurant in Prague. He waxed lyrical about the freshness of the oysters and raved about the lobster roll, which I was also eager to try.

Daisy and I had a free evening recently. Guess where we headed?

I can confirm that the oysters are fresh, cold and delicious (albeit expensive at around $13.50 for three Tsarskaya oysters), and presented very attractively. Although for me the choice of condiments is superfluous, as I like to eat my oysters naked (the oysters, not me.)


Zdenek's lobster roll

The lobster roll ($25), too, was heavenly (including that giant slab of claw meat right on top), though I expected the entire sandwich to be slightly larger than it was based on the photos I'd seen. It's served on a toasted buttered bun and with a choice of two sauces ("red island," with brandy, ketchup and egg, and a dill sauce), as well as some spicy Andalusian gazpacho and delicate rosemary potatoes.

Daisy thought her lobster meat left a bit to be desired in the texture department, and she didn't finish her sandwich. Indeed, Brewsta tweeted me that he'd had the lobster roll again. "Tail meat was fine, but claw was overcooked and dried out, tasted odd. Subtract a star." Daisy was right.

A half-liter of very drinkable Pinot Grigio was 300 CZK. It seemed to disappear too fast. Hard to believe that little carafe held a half-liter. We ordered another.

An impressive tray of homemade breads with olive oil was automatically brought to our table. Only when we got the bill did we notice that we'd been charged 65 CZK for the bread. I would say either include the bread in the price of the pricey seafood, or ask customers if they'd like the bread platter.

I really liked the vibe of Zdenek's Oyster Bar. And I liked the fact that Zdenek himself was there, presiding over the evening and making sure the customers were satisfied.

The tall bar tables and stools on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant are pleasant on a summer's evening, but not the most comfortable place to sit for an extended period.

I'm definitely going back. Zdenek's is a worth the splurge. Just try not to think too much about the final bill.

From Zdenek's, we walked over to the Hemingway Bar. I'd been wanting to visit the Hemingway Bar ever since I'd heard about its authentic absinthe, served using the classic ice water drip and sugar cube, not the stupid Prague method of setting a shot glass of absinthe on fire and stirring in a melted sugar cube. I've heard of tourists setting themselves on fire this way. I'm quite sure this method is a Prague affectation and that absinthe was never drunk this way in its heyday.

The Hemingway Bar's very cool promotional video also had me eager to stop by for an after-work drink:



I'm also a big fan of Ernest Hemingway.

Sadly, once we arrived, we discovered that the bar was closed for a private party. A peek inside revealed a very cool, cozy dark wood bar, perfectly lit (that is, dimly). We'll be back.

Instead, we walked over to Bugsy's, my favorite cocktail bar in Prague but one which I feel doesn't get its due. Other cocktails bars, such as Tretter's, seem to have more buzz, but Tretter's is a meat market, and I don't believe the bartenders are the artists that they are at Bugsy's.


Gentlemen, choose your poison.

One of my favorite evening occupations is to walk into Bugsy's in the early evening, sit at the bar, order a cocktail, and just watch the bartenders at work. They are gifted.

Daisy and I sat at the bar. Erik was our bartender. I liked Erik very much.

I ordered a Vesper Martini, the original drink of James Bond in the 1953 Ian Fleming novel, "Casino Royale." It's made from a mixture of vodka, gin and Kina Lillet, a French aperitif that's difficult, if not impossible, to find in Prague. I'd always wanted to try one. It was delicious. Daisy ordered a Negroni, a sort of bitter Martini, one of our favorite cocktails when we're at home, Campari being the operative ingredient.


The Scotland Breeze

For my second round, I ordered something from the exhaustive bound menu simply because the ingredients intrigued me. It was called a Scotland Breeze, and it contained whiskey, vanilla syrup, freshly ground ginger and grapefruit juice. Let me just say that I have found my new favorite cocktail. A little smokey. A little sweet. A little sour. And a lot delicious. Daisy ordered one, too. I had another, as well.

I've been trying to find the recipe so I could make the Scotland Breeze at home, but I can't find it anywhere. I'm guessing it's a unique Bugsy's creation.


The Maple Old-Fashioned

For my last round, I ordered a Maple Old-Fashioned (not cheap at 195 CZK), made with maple syrup instead of caster sugar, as well as bourbon, bitters and orange zest. Fantastic. Even the ice in the Old-Fashioned was hewn into a rough ball from a solid brick of ice as I watched. I loved that. Here's a video of a bartender making one. Believe me, the bartender at Bugsy's has it all over this guy:



Bugsy's is such a class act that the bartender even had nice things to say about the Hemingway Bar.

I can't wait to go back to both.


Even in Prague, in the middle of tourist season, it was possible to find a deserted Old Town sidestreet as we walked to the Hemingway Bar.

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

Best Coast -- Eating Well And Sleeping Well In Whitstable, England


Jonathan Swift said, "It was a brave man who first ate an oyster." Anyone who believes that has never eaten an oyster.

I was trying to think of a fun trip to take in honor of my 50th birthday, on April 24. My first thought was Ireland (I'm one-quarter Irish, and I dearly love the place) but I couldn't find any direct flights to Dublin that fit my schedule.

Then I remembered Whitstable.

A travel story that ran in "The New York Times" a few years ago had made a lasting impression. It was about the village of Whitstable, on England's southeast coast, and it was famous for its oysters. Which was the reason the article stayed with me, because I -- as well as Daisy -- love oysters, especially on the half-shell, she with a squeeze of fresh lemon juice, me, neat.

As if the presence of tasty local shellfish wasn't enough, the village also boasts a Michelin-star gastro-pub called The Sportsman, which also left a lasting impression, because the photos of The Sportsman in "The New York Times" impressed me as much for the restaurant's utter unpretentiousness as for the food.


One of the great pleasures of Whitstable was ordering a half-dozen oysters from a shack on the beach, watching as they were shucked, and then taking them to the beach to enjoy. Emma has yet to discover the pleasure of the oyster.


Shucked while you wait.


Hard to beat the price -- about $6.50 for a half-dozen.

We -- me, Daisy, Emma, and Robin, Daisy's mom -- booked a flight to London/Luton on Hungary's Wizz Air, rented a car, and headed to Whitstable, which is about an hour and a half outside of London proper.

I can't recommend it enough.

We had glorious weather, the oysters were succulent, the locals friendly, the village full of cute shops, and the hotel -- the Hotel Continental -- unique.


Two of the fishermen's huts, converted into comfortable accommodation.



The view from the bedroom in our hut -- just steps from the beach.


One of the more comfortable beds I've ever slept in.

We splurged on one of the converted fisherman's huts -- small two-story shacks right on the beach that have been converted from stinky storage sheds into fairly posh accommodations. The bed was one of the most comfortable I've ever slept in, and it was always a thrill to peek out of the tiny upstairs window in the morning and see the sea and the fishing boats right there.

We shopped and ate oysters and mussels and drank bottles of white wine and pints of Guinness and walked along the beachfront and just basically had a wonderful time.


Robin Sindelar, Emma, Daisy, and me in Whitstable.

Oh, and The Sportsman. I'd made reservations weeks ahead of time, and then set out in our rental, the GPS programmed accordingly. But I guess there must be another restaurant called The Sportsman, for we ended up in nearby Canterbury and I thought for certain that we had missed our meal.


The Sportsman gastro-pub in Whitstable -- as unpretentious as it is delicious.

By the time I'd found The Sportsman, situated in the proverbial middle of nowhere next to the sea outside of town, it was 7:45. Our reservations had been for 7, and I felt certain that we'd blown it, so popular is The Sportsman. I would have given up on me.

I rushed through the door, expecting the worst, but the staff could not have been nicer. They had been holding our table for us all along, offered us a drink at the bar, and said our table would be ready momentarily, becalming my frazzled nerves.

I had not wanted to miss that meal, and I am so glad I didn't. I would say it ranks among the Top 5 meals of my life. I have never had such exquisite food, served in such a relaxed, unpretentious setting, by such lovely wait staff. A meal to remember, truly.

The Sportsman is reason enough to make a return trip to Whitstable.

The grand total for a three-course dinner for four, including a bottle of lovely Delta Pinot Noir from New Zealand, came to just over $250, minus tip. Money well spent.

I'll publish some photos of the food at The Sportsman on this post, and perhaps a few more pictures of Whitstable a bit later.

Go there. Now.


The offerings on the night we visited.


Poached rock oysters with pickled cucumber and avruga caviar.


Poached egg, asparagus and home-cured ham.


Chilled asparagus soup.


Braised turbot fillet with a crab bisque sauce.


Roast saddle of Monkshill farm lamb with mint sauce.


Roast pork belly with crackling and apple sauce.


Crispy duck with smoked chili salsa and sour cream.


The "pudding" board on our visit.


Cream cheese ice cream, pear puree, meringue and crumble crumbs.


Rhubarb sorbet made with Pop Rocks, believe it or not, and burnt cream, along with some simple vanilla ice cream and melted chocolate for Emma.


Warm chocolate mousse with salted caramel and milk sorbet.