I’m in a frightful rush this week so only have time to tell you about a super little place where I had lunch recently, while Harold was having his weekly CAT scan. U Szwejka is a very pleasant (and large) establishment on the corner of Plac Konstitucji (next to the MDM hotel) where the service is extremely attentive, and – this in itself is a reason for going there - they force free alcohol on you! No sooner had I found a cosy little table in a corner where I could look out over the square, than the waiter appeared with a bottle of Bechkerowka, that revolting Czech aperitif, which I politely declined in favour of ordering lunch. He went away and came back with a match to light the candle. He went away again and came back with his notebook. After some perusing of the extensive menu, I ordered the Kotlet De Volaille (Chicken Kiev to you), which seemed like a fairly uncomplicated request. However, there then ensued a question-and-answer session which made The Weakest Link look like a fireside chat, and brought a steely glint to my eye that Ann Robinson would have been proud of. Would Madam like chips or salad with that? Madam chose salad (a girl must watch her figure!). Which sort of salad would Madam care for? My Polish broke down at this point and I had to ask him to explain the different types of salad in English. I chose a “mieszana”, or mixed salad, well there’s bound to be something in that I like. Was this the end of the interrogation? Certainly not. What kind of dressing would Madam like on her mixed salad? I stopped him at “winegret” (the 2nd on his interminable list of salad dressings). I was starting to perspire gently, wondering what the next question might be, and whether I would answer it correctly or have to do the Walk of Shame. Thankfully, he closed his notebook and went away. Then he came back with a basket of bread. On his next visit he brought a totally unsolicited plate of cottage cheese and sausage meat, which equally went untouched. He came again and took it away. I know I’m a woman who likes attention, but I was starting to feel faintly embarrassed. I looked apologetically at the next table and smiled weakly.
On his next visit, hurrah! He brought my Kotlet, which was of generous proportions and accompanied by a huge plate of chopped crudités, elegantly served with a sauceboat of vinaigrette dressing. “Smacznego,” he wished me, bowed, and went away again. I quite missed him at first; I felt we’d really bonded over the past half hour. But the music at U Szwejka soon had me singing away between mouthfuls (most inelegant I know, but I was facing the street so the other diners were spared the sight of salad dropping out of my mouth). For fans of the early 60’s (yes, all you Dekada barflies, that means you) this is the place to hear those hits that most members of the House of Lords are too young to remember: Chris Farlowe, Del Shannon, Kathy Kirby, and when I heard Freddie and the Dreamers singing “I’m telling you now”, I almost invited the chap at the next table to do the Twist.
When I called for the bill, my waiter brought it with a complimentary glass of wisniówka which he placed before me in a determined manner. I was not going to get out of this one so easily. What the heck, I thought, and swigged it back in one, before paying the bill and leading the bar staff in a conga line out the door to the strains of Herman’s Hermits. U Szwejka also has a large eating/drinking area in the cellar, if you want a discreet place for those secret trysts (but beware the couple at the next table – they could be the Wayne-Boughs!). The staff are young and charming and the service excellent, and if you’re as old as Harold, you’ll enjoy the sort of music on a weekend provided by the 3-piece band. His version of “Jealousy” played on a cucumber is unmatched in the annals of popular music.
