The Romance of Warsaw

I wasn’t sure what my trip to Warsaw would reveal. I had done some reading on the city, and found it was shrouded with the dark veil of 20th-century history. I prefer to honor it in its current exaltation.

When I arrived in Warsaw, I was delighted by its elegance: wide boulevards with tree-lined sidewalks, ornate wrought iron, lusciously grand classical buildings with terraces in the front, stately Baroque buildings, cathedrals on nearly every street. I was quickly reminded that this has city been the domain of the Catholic church for decades, by the pictures of Pope John Paul II and the current Pontiff that were laid in front of public establishments as symbols of pride.

I had booked a room at the Bristol hotel, a gracious building inspired by the Viennese Succession style and restored to its former glory. There is nothing fake about this hotel; the lobby forces you to remember a time and place where elegance reigned, where what you didn’t do mattered more than what you did.

Being a true romantic, I wanted to experience the city’s heart and soul, and nothing gets you closer to a culture than its cuisine. I had asked a colleague where locals go for amazing Polish food, and his convoluted response was the last thing I wanted to hear. It appears that since the fall of communism in the ’90s, a new class has emerged – those who have invested in real estate the government has sold off at bargain prices. Twenty years later, Warsaw is emerging as a strong economy with limitless possibilities for foreign investors. Gentrification is inevitable, and classic Polish restaurants are giving way to a bevy of contemporary and hip eateries.

I had not traveled over 4,000 miles to have a contemporary meal I can get in N.Y.C. To make things worse, it appears that the locals have taken a liking to Japanese, Indian and Italian food, all three the new culinary badges of having “made it.” So I decided to go my own way and do my own research. The irony of it is that 100 meters from the hotel is one of the oldest Polish restaurants, typically not recommended at the concierge desk because they think foreigners want to eat foreign food – which is what I thought Polish cuisine was.

This restaurant could not have delighted me more. Every single aspect of it was charming; it pleased me to the core in so many ways. The floors were black and white checkered tiles, and the walls were covered in aged white subway tiles. It was not a decorated restaurant in the modern sense of the word; there was no evidence that an architect or a famous interior designer had had anything to do with it. How refreshing and authentic. The sound insulation was nonexistent, and voices were amplified by vaulted ceilings and large, voluminous hard spaces. It felt like it could have been a slaughterhouse in the last century, which would simply have been hosed down at the end of the day. It even had old steel accordion doors, the kind you see in industrial spaces.

Men in chef’s hats with trolleys delivered whole recipes in their entirety to be served at the table: a beautiful pheasant on a well-worn carving board, a large ham with crispy skin glazed to perfection and succulent to the bite, a large white bream served to a large party. Each waiter walked around at a fast pace and served with a great sense of pride, and each carried a large, beaten black-iron skillet containing a vegetable dish to be served as a side, from carrots with paprika to potatoes with dill, to creamed spinach. Best of all were the pierogies, a traditional delicacy not be missed, made with cheese or pork pan-fried with caramelized onions.

I tend to search out authenticity. It’s rare nowadays, but for just one night I felt like I was in a completely different era. I kept imagining a sophisticated crowd, with women smoking extended cigarettes and men chewing on cigars. U Kucharek Restaurant served a hearty and delicious cuisine of great simplicity and intense flavors, giving me what I was yearning for: a taste of a culture, a people with pride and warmth, and most of all, an experience without which I could not have developed such a fondness for this magnificent city.

U Kucharek Restaurant
ul. Ossolinskich 7, Warsaw
(22) 826 79 36