soupsong.com

Why no soup blogs for nearly a month? Easy–I have been on the road. First a pleasure trip to Seattle (where I ate no soup) to celebrate daughter Meg’s birthday and cuddle darling petite enfant Rosalind…then, unexpectedly, a 30-day assignment to…Sana’a, Yemen.

! ! !

Let me tell you, as I sit here in southern Arabia ringed by brown mountains, the hot sun beating out of a cloudless, deep blue sky, my quick trip to snowy Krakow, Poland, with friend Elizabeth seems years instead of weeks past. But it was a marvelous trip, and literally so full of soup that I’ve had to split the blog into four.

We went on a whim–Transavia Air flew out of Orly round trip for $182–and landed late at night in a blizzard. And by the time we arrived at the little La Fontaine Bed and Breakfast, right off Market Square, we were starved. After a circuit around the square, full of high spirited people despite the hour, and after getting turned away at restaurants bursting at the seams, I was so happy to find Pod Sloncem, meaning “Under the Sun,” located in a 13th century basement and offering cable TV “so you can have dinner without missing out on the most important sports events.” Why “under the sun”? If you go to its website, you will see a giant sun, eyes closed and tongue protruding, carved right into the stone foundations.

My first meal is Poland was completely yummy:
Czerwony barszczy, podawany z krokietem z kapusta i grzybami (clear and sour red beet soup with a chopped herb garnish, served with a fried croquette suffed with cabbage and mushrooms)–washed down with the excellent Zywtec beer. I remember feeling so good, so tired, tummy full, walking home through the snow. On that note, I’ll put part I of this soupy blog to bed and get on with the next one. Truly, there cannot be too much Polish soup.

And yes, I recommend Pod Sloncem for a good hearty meal, not to mention not missing the most important sports events!
Pod Sloncem
Rynek Glówny 43
31-013 Kraków
Tel.: 012 422 93 78

Elizabeth and I stumbled into an exquisite exhibit of Nativity Scenes at the Krzysztofory Palace Museum–and couldn’t tear ourselves away. As many as a hundred towering structures, many larger than a full grown man, were strung with lights and moving parts and populated with the most beloved traditions and history of Krakow–its dragon, its architecture, devils, grim reapers, Tartars, peasants, kings, queens, nobles, merchants, in many cases you really have to look sharp to find tiny little Mary and Joseph huddled over a little crib. This was the 66th year that artists of all ages created their entries and lined up at midnight on the first Thursday of December to parade to the palace. Lucky Elizabeth and I caught the very last day the scenes were on view.

And, lucky again, one good parade led to another. Polskie Jadlo Compendium Culinarium, close to St. Florian’s Gate, literally offered a “Parade of Soups” (Defilada zup Polskich)–I got to choose 4 out of 11 traditional Polish soups for 15 zlotys ($4.50). Imagine! There was classic sour white barszcz, “white soup” (whey boiled with cream and served with ham, bacon, eggs, and fennel), “ziober kwasnica” (sauerkraut soup), mushroom soup, chicken soup with meat dumplings, barszcz with yeast knish, Christmas barszcz, clear red barszcz, beef tripe soup, bread top soups, and chicken noodle soup. Here you see my choices, clockwise, the Christmas barszcz served with mushroom pierogi; the sauerkraut soup, boiled on the shoat’s snout, I was told; classic sour white barszcz with white sausage, eggs, and potatoes; and dense mushroom soup topped with thick cream. All absolutely sensational.

And please know that the restaurant was darling. I was greeted warmly at the door, seated, and brought a loaf of Polish village bread, a clay pot of homemade lard stuffed with meat bits, better not ask what, and mined salt for sprinkling. The walls were bright turquoise and decorated with embroideries, jars of pickles and preserves, copper lamps, religious pictures, and a large crucifix just under the arched ceiling. All the tables and benches were rough hewn. Lively drinking music pulsed. And tables of men and of couples were red cheeked from the snow and the beer.

Do I recommend this place? You know I do–and I hope to return myself one of these fine days.
Polskie Jadlo Compendium Culinarium
ul. Sw. Jana 30
31-018 Krakow
+48 12 433 98 25

I didn’t know when I walked into the Church of St. Mary (Kosciól Mariacki) that no pictures were allowed unless you paid a stiff fee. So I really got my hand slapped when I fell in love with this polychrome statue, playing its harp in a dark corner, and snapped it. “Shall I delete the picture?” I asked. “No, silly person,” the security guy said. “Just no more.” Viet Stoss’ High Altar, the Ciborium, the Slacker Crucifix–all these were magnificent, but I was drawn back again and again to this sweet figure at ground level, wanting to take his hand and pat his cheek. I sought out the Camera Buster. “Who is it?” I asked. “Oh,” he muttered, “I was afraid you were going to ask. It’s…it’s…it’s…it’s on the tip of my tongue. It’s, you know, the king who played a harp.” “A Polish King?” “No, no, the one in the Bible.”

King David!

“Yes, that’s the one.”

I just love that this great Jewish king is down on the floor, almost as a greeter, in the famous Market Square cathedral, not far at all from Auschwitz. It bore a lot of thinking about, really, and I was glad to find this bowl of rich mushroom soup (Zupa Grzybow) nearby, served in a traditional round of Polish bread. Hard to believe that these mushrooms sell for a king’s ransom today as it is exactly this soup that has nourished Poland’s poor since time immemorial, thanks to forests rich with them. I brought some dried ones back to Paris with me: stay tuned for a recipe.

I was not going to leave Poland without a fine dish of Bigos–one of the most popular soups on my website, at least in drawing extremely opinionated commentary. Not for vegetarians! It is crammed with meats and sausages, with the sweetness of apples more than balanced by the sharpness of sauerkraut–and it is traditionally served as a good-luck New Year’s dish. Well, I say that, but it’s a relatively recent tradition since only Polish aristocracy could hunt game on their estates…and only they could afford so much meat.

Adam Mickiewicz, in his 1834 epic Pan Tadeusz , speaks to the heart of this tradition, which resonates with Poles around the world:

“Bigos was being cooked in every kettle
In human language it is hard to settle
The marvels of its odor, hue and taste;
In poetry’s description one has traced
Only the clinking words and clanging rhymes….
This bigos is no ordinary dish,
For it is aptly framed to meet your wish.
Founded upon good cabbage, sliced and sour,
Which, as men say, by its own zest and power
Melts in one’s mouth, it settles in a pot
And its dewy bosom folds a lot
Of the best portions of selected meats;
Scullions parboil it then, until heat
Draws from its substance all the living juices,
And from the pot’s edge, boiling fluid sluices
And all the air is fragrant with the scent.”

But the soup itself, it’s not pretty, is it? And unexpectedly thick. So I leave you to contemplate the culinary heart of Poland in the very heart of Polish history–at Krakow’s towering Wawel Cathedral, home of the relics of St. Stanislaw and Saint Jadwiga, boneyard of Jagiellonian kings, and final resting place of that extraordinary poet and patriot Adam Mickiewicz. And do rush out to get the fixings of Bigos–recipe at https://soupsong.com/rbigos.html.