What Do I Want To Do For My Life?

I was going through some old boxes of papers from my student days last night, throwing stuff away in preparation for an upcoming move, when I came across this list: WHAT DO I WANT TO DO FOR MY LIFE?

It dates from around 1978 or 1979, when I was a junior or senior in high school, as best as I can determine.

It's taken more than 30 years, but I'd say I can safely check off 10, maybe 11, of those 18.

Still got some hard work left in front of me, though.

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.

We Have A Winner!

The complete puzzle answers as supplied by Merl Reagle.

I was honored to have famous crossword guru Merl Reagle create a puzzle for me in honor of my 50th birthday. The clues are based on my life and my two blogs.

I offered a prize of $25 to any blog reader who could solve the puzzle. And I'm please to announce that we have a winner!

Robin Wisdom (aka Wissy), a regular reader and commentator on my blogs, sent in the winning entry. While he didn't fill in every answer, he filled in the most clues of any contributor. And frankly, the clues he didn't get could only really be solved by those who know me really, really well.


Wissy's winning entry.

Here's what Wissy had to say:

"Attached is the uncompleted crossword as discussed. I'm really annoyed with myself for not completing it but really enjoyed doing it and going through your old posts. Hope you and your family are all well."

Being the upstanding guy that he is, Wissy wanted me to donate the $25 prize to my favorite charity, so I'm sending 500 Czech crowns to the Prague Animal Welfare Society.

All the best to you, Wissy, and to all those who had a good time attempting to solve the puzzle.

And if you've never heard the Captain Bravo joke (19 Down), here's an audio clip of my father-in-law, Paul Sindelar, telling us the joke during a recent trip to Prague. I've heard it many times now -- the first time during a trip to Croatia a few years ago -- and I never get tired of it, especially in his telling. Enjoy.

Quite A Puzzle! And A Prize Awaits!

Click on the image to enlarge.

I received a belated -- but very special -- 50th birthday gift a few days ago. A crossword puzzle, with my life as the clues!

And not only that, the puzzle was created by none other than Merl Reagle, world famous puzzlemaster extraordinaire.

How famous is he?

Sure, he's got his own puzzle syndicate and website. OK, he sells a popular line of puzzle books. Granted, he stars in the movie "Wordplay," which explores the fascinating world of crossword puzzles and crossword puzzlers (such as Bill Clinton and Jon Stewart).

But the true measure of his success, the achievement at the top of his resume, is that he voiced a cartoon character version of himself on "The Simpsons," in an episode from the 20th season in which Lisa enters a crossword tournament, only to discover that Homer bet against her. (That's him on the left.)

How cool is that??

Why did Merl Reagle create a crossword puzzle based on my life?

Back in the early 1990s, when I was the features editor at the Syracuse Herald-Journal in Syracuse, NY, Merl -- who was then, I believe, at the start of syndicating his own puzzles -- contacted me about buying his work for our games page. I was intrigued by his puzzles, which were an obvious cut above the usual fare that comes across a features editor's desk.

We had a few phone conversations, and I ended up buying his puzzles for the Herald-Journal. Reader response was enthusiastic, to say the least.

Jump ahead to just a few years ago, when after all those years I contacted Merl (that's him in real life, at right) through his website to see whether he would autograph one of his puzzle books as a gift for Paul Sindelar, Daisy's father, who is a keen crossword puzzler. In fact, Paul hosts an annual tournament in his hometown of Gainesville, Florida. I didn't know whether Merl would remember me, and I was pleasantly surprised to find that he had a soft spot for a certain editor who helped him get started in syndication (or so he says).

So Paul returned the favor when he and his wife, Alyson Adams, and her daughter, Hannah Sholar, visited us in Prague a few weeks ago. He had contacted Merl about making a puzzle for my 50th birthday that contained clues from my life, my blogs, my career. For some crazy reason, Merl agreed.

I was, and still am, so tickled by this wonderful gift. Thank you, again, Paul and Alyson, and thank you, Merl Reagle.

In celebration, I'm going to award $25 via PayPal to the first person who returns a completed puzzle back to me, with all the answers right (family and friends not eligible).

You can send it to my e-mail at grantpodelco@yahoo.com, post it on my Facebook page, send it to me on Twitter at @grantpodelco, or mail it to Grant Podelco, Za Cihelnou 198a, Statenice-Cerny Vul 252 62 Czech Republic.

If there's a tie, I'll randomly select a winner from the correct entries.


Paul Sindelar, Alyson Adams, and Hannah Sholar. Thank you, folks!

Stormy Weather

Daisy, Emma and I went for a little hike the other day from our house in Černý Vůl to the top of what we call The Crag in the neighboring village of Únětice.

From the top of The Crag, we could see what looked like a pretty major thunderstorm approaching. I love storms, and it was quite thrilling to see it bearing down on us like that.

Fortunately, just before the rain and lightning hit, we managed to find shelter in an old huntman's camp in the forest.

There was enough of a break in the clouds to afford a stop at the new Únětický pivovar, where we enjoy a few mugs of their delicious 12° pilsner.

Sometimes, living in the country has its advantages.

Best Biker Bar In The World (Or How To Have A Devil Of A Good Time)

It's said the caves were once used to shelter fleeing religious refugees...


... and a Nazi weapons factory during World War II.

For my 50th birthday, I rode my motorcycle inside a cave. And no, I'm not prematurely senile.

If that wasn't enough, the cave is so large that it has its own roundabout. Oh, and it's also got a bar, where you can ride your motorcycle right up and order a drink.

Allen Harris, the chief of the Expat Bikers Club, had arranged a trip on April 24 to Pekelne Doly (Hell's Mines), in the Český ráj (Czech Paradise) area, north of Prague, between the hamlets of Svitava and Velenice. I think it was around 90 kilometers or so from Prague. You can see the exact location on Google below:


View Larger Map

It was a gloriously sunny day, but not too hot to make wearing the leathers a chore. We had a fantastic ride through the Czech countryside on winding backroads. You can watch a cool video of the ride, with me and my biking buddies, below. It was filmed and edited by Allen:



We didn't quite know what to expect once we got to the cave. In fact, at first, we passed right by it, since it's not exactly well signposted and sits well up off the road.

The day we visited, it was packed with bikers and bikes of all shapes and sizes. Everyone was as seemingly tickled as we were to have arrived at such a playground.

As Allen says, "This is the holy grail of pubs and all bikers must visit it once to call themselves a biker. This place is addictive and the trip will be repeated many times."

Inside, there are sofas and chairs and even a few mattresses thrown on the floor, if you want to spend the night, I guess. (Or maybe do other things.)

According to this website, the caves were used as shelter by fleeing religious refugees in the 17th century, and then later used for sand mining for a nearby mirror factory. It says the area also housed a Nazi weapons factory.

What's funny, though, is that we're all dressed in leather and sporting tattoos and beards and skull rings and such, and we're in the most amazing biker bar imaginable, but most of us are drinking coffee or soda or nonalcoholic beer, since there's zero tolerance in the Czech Republic for drinking and driving. And even if there wasn't, motorcycle riding in the Czech Republic is dangerous enough without having had a few.

It was a great ride and a wonderful way to spend part of my birthday. Thanks to Allen, Sam, Hayden, and Andy for letting me tag along.


Hayden Murray (left), Sam Graham, Andy Schofield, and I soak up some rays at the outdoor tables. It was just too nice to sit inside.


Allen enjoys a tall, cool half-liter ... of nonalcoholic Birell.


Sam remembers the one that got away.


Bikers can drive inside the cave, which features its own roundabout (above).


The bar, in the distance, surrounded in the cave by comfy sofas and chairs.


My Honda Shadow, getting some serious cave time in.

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.