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The Warsaw Gazette – Part 4 – Lunch at a Milk Bar

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My colleagues in Warsaw thought I was crazy to lunch at a ‘milk bar’ one weekend. Why would I want to eat at such a low brow establishment when the city has a generous selection of international cuisine, fine dining restaurants and funky coffee houses and bistros?

Aside from the fact that the bill at a milk bar can be less than five dollars if you desire, a bar mleczny (‘milk bar’ in Polish) is also a peephole into Poland’s past.

The dining hall at the Bar Mleczny Pod Barbakanem in Warsaw (just before I got told off for taking a photograph!)

Milk bars were first established in 1896 and as the name suggests, they offered mainly dairy based and vegetarian meals. They were especially successful during the war when times were lean for many citizens and meat was rationed.

In the post-war years, milk bars offered cheap meals to people working in companies that did not have onsite kitchen facilities. Even today, you will find men in suits frequenting milk bars across the city during their lunch breaks.

At the bar mleczny pod barbakanem (or ‘milk bar under the barbican’) the no-frills décor did have a fair amount of old world charm, as did the lady at the order desk who told off any tourist crazy enough to take a photo of the dining hall on her watch.

She rolled her eyes in exasperation when I pronounced something incorrectly from the polish-only menu that hung on the wall behind her. In the end I felt obliged to say “tak” (Polish for ‘yes’) to whatever she decided my husband and I should eat that afternoon.

She yelled my order of meat perogies (apparently periogi ruski, cheese and potato dumplings, were not an option that afternoon), borscht (warm beetroot soup) and potato pancakes to the kitchen ladies at the back. I suspected that her bark was probably worse than her bite but didn’t want to tempt fate by asking her to pose for a photograph with me for the blog.

The pick-up and drop-off counters at the milk bar

In the short time we were there, the old kitchen ladies produced an amazing quantity of soups, fried pork chops, pierogis and pancakes in a small working area.

When I went to get my order from the counter, I spent a few minutes trying to converse with them in my barely existent Polish. It was clear that the kitchen standards would have probably not met the health and safety requirements in some parts of the world, but the food that was turned out was positively delicious!

A big wave for the camera from the ladies in the kitchen!

When we finished lunch and passed our tray of used plates and cutlery through the window at the end of the dining hall, I didn’t envy whoever was on washing-up duty that day.

If you’re looking for the “Milk Bar Under the Barbican” in Warsaw, that’s exactly where you will find it!

From the old market square, walk towards the barbican in the direction of ul. Freta. Once you’ve crossed the cobble stone bridge, you will find the milk bar on your right at the point where ul. Nowomiejska meets ul. Mostowa. They close early in the evening so make sure you get there in good time.

If you’ve been to this milk bar in particular, or to another one somewhere else in Poland, I’d love to hear about your experience!

The Warsaw Gazette – Part 3 – Żoliborz

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Żoliborz is the polar opposite of Praga. It’s an urban architect’s paradise with its well-planned outdoor spaces, quiet leafy lanes and a public park that was full of young families enjoying the beautiful weather that day.

Before I got to see any of it, my friend Maria first treated me to a Polish Sunday brunch at one of Zoliborz’s most well known restaurants, Zywiciel.

This restaurant is also mentioned in the Warsaw Guide for Young Travellers as an eating establishment that “takes pride in serving typical Warsaw cuisine e.g. tripe.” For those looking for a ‘morning after the night before’ cure, the restaurant serves a “Sick Kitten” breakfast (number 3) which comes with a side order of Alkaseltzar!

The name Żoliborz originates from the 18^th century, when it was known by its French name ‘Joli Bord’ or ‘beautiful embankment’. It belonged to monks who parceled off the land to allow for settlements to develop and was absorbed as a neighbourhood of Warsaw in the 1920s. As you can see from the photo below, Żoliborz is still very deserving of its name.

Warsaw Citadel and the Hibner Park

Żoliborz has always been the hub of Warsaw’s intelligentsia, and the boroughs are still referred to as such. As we strolled through the “Officers Żoliborz”, “Officials Żoliborz” and “Journalists Żoliborz” that day, I came as close as I could possibly get to the homes of some of Poland’s famous sporting, political and artistic personalities. (No names will be mentioned here!)

Plac Sloneczny or the “Sun Square” is a round urban space at the heart of Oficers Zoliborz. It was meant to function as a sun-dial, with the shadow of the tree moving along the twelve row-houses.. Unfortunately, instead of a tall and straight tree, there is a sprawling maple tree planted.

When we arrived at the Parc Kepa Potocka, Maria showed me the neon light installation in the shape of a glass of pink lemonade.

Park Kepa Potocka was a great place to go for run in the evening!

“Lightspurt” the neon installation created by Polish artist Maurycy Gomulicki. Unfortunately I never had a camera on me to photograph the night view of the pink bubbles!

The artist Maurycy Gomulicki wanted it to be symbolic of the joys and pleasures of life. As he said just before the opening of the exhibit:

I’m into pink, because I really think that one should be seriously engaged in experiencing pleasure, beauty, and delight. I’m not trying to talk people into dull egoistic hedonism, I rather want to revise the popular ideas about what’s important in life. I cannot accept the dominant position of death and pain over life and pleasure.

That Gomulicki’s push for a new view of life met with resistance from some quarters is not surprising as the pain of the holocaust is still very raw for many families in the country.

During my time in Warsaw, I was continually amazed with the minutia of Polish history that people could provide to me. Maria was no exception and as she waved me off at the bus stop in the late evening, I felt privileged to have had the opportunity to see, through her eyes, a part of Warsaw that doesn’t often make it into the guide books.

The Warsaw Gazette – Part 2

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Last weekend I had the opportunity to visit Praga and Zoliborz (pronounced “Jolly–Bosch”), two suburbs of Warsaw, with my colleague Maria.

Maria and I are kindred-souls, particularly in our approach to food (“life is good on a full stomach” and “quality beats quantity”) and when she offered to show me around Warsaw I didn’t refuse. So with Maria in the driver’s seat on a fabulously sunny Saturday afternoon, I was first introduced to Praga.

The Lonely Planet describes Praga as “the place to be” as “artists, musicians and entrepreneurs” have slowly turned it into a hive of cultural activity. This is still a low-income neighbourhood as evidenced by the crumbling facades of communist-era apartment blocks, which stand in stark contrast to the contemporary feel of the financial district on the other side of Warsaw. Some of the buildings in Praga still bear the scars of the last world war.

As many buildings cannot be demolished completely for reasons of heritage, the owners have taken to gutting out the inside and then constructing newer establishments into the shell. It has resulted in a mish-mash of architectural features, which my tour guide excitedly pointed out to me as we drove through the neighbourhood.

We also took advantage of the afternoon to visit areas that should be avoided at night. Maria was not overreacting when she locked the car doors and slid our bags under the seats. Even reputed tourist sites insist on using common sense and caution in some of the ‘rougher’ areas of north Praga.

We drove past some interesting places including the longest building in Warsaw, which is 508 metres long and has 43 entrances. Its address is ul. Kijowska 11 and according to the ‘Young Travellers Guide to Warsaw’ the building was designed to “conceal the crumbling buildings of old Praga from people arriving at the train station across the street”.

Lunch was at the ‘No Name Bistro’, known that way because (you guessed it!) it has no name. Located on 1 Stalowa Street in Praga this restaurant has one table only around which customers can enjoy perogies and other hearty Polish fare. We finished off the afternoon talking up a storm in a pastry shop on Mokotowa street.

Maria invited me to join her in Zoliborz for a Polish Sunday brunch. To challenge my self-proclaimed inability to find my way even with a map, she sent me directions to the tram stop and the restaurant by sms that evening. What we did and saw will be the subject of my next post. But until then, I’ll leave you with some of my favourite views of Praga.

Views of praga

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The Warsaw Gazette – Part 1

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The streets surrounding the Palace of Culture and Science were teaming with life this Friday evening and Poland’s tallest building looked beautiful illuminated.

It was strange to walk around a shopping mall after 8:00pm and to have the time to browse through the grocery store aisles. As supermarkets don’t stay open late in Switzerland, getting to the stores before they close at 18:30 is a stressful undertaking, especially when you work full time.

The Zlote Tarasy shopping mall had a coat service on the main floor so that you can shop around without being encumbered with a heavy winter jacket. Such an ingenious idea warranted a photo, but a security guard stopped me just as I was about to press down on the button. After spending sometime in Kyiv last December it seems that Eastern European countries have an uneasy relationship with cameras. So I had to restort to taking out photos surreptitiously with my IPhone for the rest of my time in the mall.

I’ve forgotten how annoying it is to be unable to carry out even the simplest of functions when you don’t understand the local language. It’s been a while since I’ve had to ask for help in finding the correct button on the scale to weigh a bag of tomatoes.

Couldn’t quite work out which number corresponded to which vegetable…

When it came time to pay, I couldn’t choose the checkout counter with the shortest line. Instead I had to join a long queue of people waiting to be sorted at the end of the line by a machine, which gives you the number of the counter where you unload your purchases.

The young gentleman, who was behind me in the line, gallantly offered to pay the 1 groszy (pronounced “gro-she”) that I was missing. Granted, 1 grosz is equivalent to around US$ 0.03 (the larger denominations of money are called “zloty”, pronounced “zeh-loh-tee”) but he did it spontaneously and with a smile. Also not one person waiting in line huffed impatiently as I searched my wallet for small change.

I do have to watch my waistline over the next four months, as food is cheap and delicious. This afternoon’s hot meal of Rosol z makaronem (clear soup with noodles) followed by Golabki z pieca (stuffed cabbage roll) was only PLN 18, the equivalent of US$ 5. I could get used to this.

The Fondue Train

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If you’re looking for a fun weekend activity in the Swiss canton of Fribourg, The Fondue Train (or ‘Le train retro’ as it is known in French) may be just the ticket. It combines everything that’s admirable about Switzerland – impeccable organisation, a simple culinary concept, good wine and a picture perfect backdrop against which to enjoy it all.

I took The Fondue Train – run by the canton of Fribourg’s transport authorities – for the third time last autumn and was surprised to find I hadn’t tired of the experience.

The leisurely 40-minute ride on the bright green electric train, from the main station in the town of Bulle to the sleepy village of Montbovon, gave us enough time to enjoy a pre-lunch aperitif as we trundled through the Swiss countryside. It had been a long week and I could feel my shoulders relax as I sunk into my seat with my glass of wine and watched the little villages and the open fields with Fribourg’s signature black and white cows, roll by.

When the train came to a full stop in Montbovon, the ladies serving us got to work lighting the burners and handing out slices of crusty bread along with the vacuum packed sachets of grated Gruyère and Vacherin cheese.

Preparing a fondue from scratch can be a tricky endeavour even for those who know the ropes. To melt a mound of grated cheese into a creamy consistency requires, first and foremost, strong arm muscles for stirring. The correct amount of alcohol, corn starch and other ingredients then need to be introduced into the pot at the right time so that the cheese does not separate or become too thin in consistency. You needn’t worry if you’ve never made a fondue before as the sachets of cheese come prepared with all the necessary ingredients. We only needed to stir the mixture until it was ready to eat.

From the number of Swiss on the train that afternoon, it was clear that the outing has found favour with the locals as well as tourists. I did find this surprising as the Swiss will generally avoid buying pre-prepared fondue cheese, at all costs, as it goes against tradition. But from the remarks I overheard that afternoon, it was clear that the convivial atmosphere trumped the need for an authentic fondue experience.

By the time the meringues with double cream arrived for dessert, the ambience in the train had warmed up considerably and people felt comfortable enough to strike up a conversation with passengers at other tables. At this juncture I would like to offer the following words of caution: please do not take The Fondue Train if you’re unwilling to get up close and personal with strangers! The dining space is limited and I know a few people who did not enjoy the experience for this reason.

This time around, I was only slightly disappointed that we didn’t get to enjoy our pre-lunch drink at the bar or ‘Moléjon’ wagon of the train, which was the case when we took the evening excursion. Instead, we were seated straight away in the restaurant carriage, which meant we didn’t have to move places when the train stopped in Montbovon. I’m not sure if this was a one-off event to accommodate the number of people on the train that day, but it would be worthwhile enquiring about it when making your reservation.

The bar wagon of The Fondue Train

The lunch hour train stops for enough time in Montbovon for a walk around the village and a visit to the local church, though the break in the journey may have been too long for some of the young children. Even the parents who were organised enough to come with card games seemed pleased when the train finally started on its way back to the station in Bulle that afternoon!

The train runs only on Friday and Saturday evenings and at lunch time on the weekends. It’s also possible to reserve the train for birthdays and other events. I know that there are similar excursions organised in other parts of Switzerland and if you’ve been on them, I’d be interested to know of your experience!

DETAILS

Departure:

Main train station in Bulle, Canton of Fribourg

Cost:

Adults: CHF 43
Children: CHF 39 (13 – 20 years)
Children: CHF 13 (until 13 years of age)
These prices cover only the cost of the train ticket, the fondue and dessert. Drinks are not included and must be paid for in cash at the end of the trip.

Dates for winter-spring 2012

Friday Evening: 20 & 27 January; 10 & 24 February; 23 March; 20 April.
Saturday afternoon: 14 January; 21 & 28 January; 4 & 25 February; 17 March; 14 April.
Saturday evening: 11 & 18 February; 3 & 10 March; 21 & 28 April.
Sunday afternoon: 8, 15, 22, 29 January; 5, 12, 19 & 26 February; 4, 11, 18 & 25 March; 1, 15, 22, 29 April; 6 & 13 May.

This information is available in French and German on the following site: http://www.tpf.ch/fr/voyageurs/offres-speciales/train-fondue.html

Timing

Afternoon trips leave from the main train station in Bulle at 11:30 and return around 15:30.
Evening trips leave from the main station in Bulle at 18:30 and return around 22:00.

Reservations

Reservations are required. The phone number to call is +41 26 913 05 12
You can collect and pay for your tickets at the station in Bulle on the day of your trip.

Put a fork in it!

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Views of the fork and the Charlie Chaplin statue from the lake front in Vevey, Switzerland (©MRandin)

After almost 10 years in Switzerland, I finally saw Vevey’s famous fork, positioned across from the Charlie Chaplin statue on the lake front! There has been much controversy around this fork, which at 8 meters in height and 1.3 meters in width, is made entirely from stainless steel.

The fork was designed by Jean-Pierre Zaugg, a sculptor from Neuchâtel, Switzerland and was embedded in the lake in February 1995 to commemorate the tenth anniversary of Vevey’s Museé de l’alimentation (Food Museum).

Unfortunately, the Alimentarium did not obtain the required authorisation to keep the fork in the waters of Lake Leman after its year long exhibition and it was moved to Littau in the Canton of Lucerne, in the garden outside the Berndorf cutlery factory.

In 2008, the Canton of Vaud finally granted permission for the fork to be brought back to Vevey, which is where we saw it today.

It was a lovely way to spend Christmas day in Switzerland.

I hope you stay safe and happy this holiday season, where ever you are in the world!

Geocaching across the world

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‘Geocaching’, a nine-letter word that has captured the interest of millions of people around the world, is described as follows:

Geocaching is a real-world outdoor treasure hunting game. Players try to locate hidden containers, called geocaches, using GPS-enabled devices and then share their experiences online.

When Geocaching.com was launched in September 2000 there were only 75 known geocaches in the world. Today, there are a staggering 1,542,703 active geocaches with more than 5 million geocachers in the community to which M. and I now belong.

Geocaching has given me a reason to stop watching re-runs of Desperate Housewives on a Tuesday evening (there I’ve said it…) and get out of the house for some air after a long day at work.

It is an activity that M. and I enjoy doing together, especially because it has given us a more entertaining use of our beloved I-Phones. This game is the reason why we often get dirt under our nails and mud on our shoes as we follow the flashing blue dot on our I-Phones to locate the hidden container.

But why does geocaching merit mention on a travel blog?

Geocaching is a unique way to discover our region, which up until now we both thought we knew pretty well. Since my colleague Stefan introduced me to the joys of geocaching in August, we have discovered a park in Lausanne that ironically enough, M. drives past practically everyday. Just this afternoon, I was introduced to the Major Davel monument, a mere 500 metres away from where I worked for over two years.

The monument to Major Davel, a major figure in the history of the Canton of Vaud. This spot in Vidy, Lausanne, is where he was decapitated in 1723. We found the cache nearby. (©MRandin)

You may be surprised to find, as we did in Canada, that people have hidden geocaches in your back yard – literally! And as Stefan has shown me, it’s a novel activity to engage in when travelling to other parts of the world.

Interestingly, there are a number of people in our entourage who already know about the game and have some experience finding these caches.

Others, like my brother-in-law to be Darren, are the type of geocachers who prefer the use of a compass and map rather than the facility of a GPS device. According to Darren, a GPS takes all the fun out of geocaching. (He hasn’t been in the family long enough to know about my legendary inability to read even the simplest of maps.)

If you have an I-Phone and want to try out a fun new activity, then this might be it. It’s a good way to involve the children and meet and interact with a new set of people.

Should you decide to try it out, write and let me know about your experience!

Echandens – My Hometown

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Echandens, a little village in the Swiss Riviera, is better known for its bakery than its 16^th century chateau or pretty white church on the hill. I have called Echandens ‘home’ for the past 5 years and like other residents, I relish having a hot croissant in the bakery’s poky tea room on a Saturday morning.

The queue into the bakery is often long, though the produce at the end of the line makes it worth the wait. Those lucky to find a place in the tea room are never in a hurry to finish reading their newspaper. After all it’s a perfect place to observe the locals and listen in on the village gossip. If you express your irritation in any way, you upset the ladies at the counter and find yourself on the receiving end of an icy “Bonjour”.

This is village life at its best. Take it slow and never rush. In the summers, dining al fresco is the norm and the start of good weather is signaled by the sound of people cheerfully clinking wine glasses on their patios in the evenings. If you don’t like the lifestyle you can go live somewhere else.

On the other side of the village is the sixty something hairdresser, with a penchant for alternative medicines and a love of the sun. But aside from a two week holiday in Majorca every year she has never left the village for any extended period of time. Like her sister, who runs her own business a few hundred metres away, they see no need to live anywhere else. The local wine maker, bank clerk and our retired neighbours feel the same way.

The families in Echandens have seen their children and grandchildren grow up together. They pride themselves on being a close knit community and worry that neighbouring Lausanne city will continue to expand into their highly valued postal code.

Unsurprisingly, new residents are seen as interlopers. So you tread gently, offering as much information about yourself before any is offered to you. And when it is, you know that you’ve broken an invisible barrier and are considered a worthy member of the fold. This means that when you’ve lost your beloved cat, your neighbours will help you look for her and then celebrate with you when she is found.

Having the patience to break into the community is a small price to pay for what the village has to offer.

My husband and I own a view of a chateau and on a clear day we can see the Alps from our balcony.

Echanden’s chateau may not be as regal as the one in Versailles, but it was once the residence of Georges Simenon, the French language’s equivalent of Arthur Conan Doyle. And if that’s not enough it’s rumoured to be haunted.

Ironically it was here that I attended a wedding party, 10 years ago. The couple had married in the little white church on the hill just before and had led their guests in procession to the chateau for the first part of the wedding celebrations.

As I walked through the garden with a glass of champagne in hand, I wondered what it would be like to live in this place.

Now I know.

An ode to cheese

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There‘s a science and an art and to making cheese. And it’s precisely this combination of precision and love that makes cheese the perfect food for the Swiss to produce. And it’s not just the variety of cheese that is mind boggling. The Swiss have found a number of ways to melt, combine, fry, cook and enjoy cheese.

So how do I love my cheese? Let me count the ways… Continue reading →

In my backyard: A little bit of Colorado in the Canton of Vaud?

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Should I be writing about La Tine de Conflens? I think I may be about to let the best guarded secret in the canton of Vaud out of the bag. But it was such a pleasant find that I think it would be a crime to keep it to myself.

(©MRandin)

I don’t think I’m exaggerating about this being a secret. It isn’t a well advertised walking trail and so far I’ve only seen a thumbnail image of the waterfalls on one tourist brochure. M. and I would have probably never known about if not for the coffee table book at a local fair.

I remember that the photos looked heavily edited and seemed too ‘tropical’ to be Switzerland. So the young lad, managing the stall, looked somewhat puzzled when I asked him a second time for the exact location. “It’s in Switzerland” he repeated slowly “and not too far from here” he added. Continue reading →