Občanská plovárna, Prague (2): Sunday Brunch, Autumn Edition
That morning, October was running through its whole repertoire: drizzle, strong wind and a gray Vltava River, with sightseeing boats still cruising up and down it regardless. We watched them from the warmth of the restaurant, over bread with truffle butter. A year after my first visit, I went back for Sunday brunch at Občanská plovárna, the neoclassical building of the old river baths by the Čechův most bridge - and found a noticeably different kitchen. I wrote about my first visit last year, in summer weather; more than just the season has changed since then.
What's Changed in a Year
The format is the same: Sundays from half past ten, a ticket bought in advance, a buffet of cold and hot starters, eggs made to order, a main course brought to the table after half past eleven, and unlimited drinks to go with it all. The details have changed, almost all of them for the better. At first glance the table of little bowls looks thinner: instead of fifteen or twenty bowls of each dish, there are now six. But the selection hasn't shrunk - the kitchen just tops it up more often, so the food in the bowls is even fresher.
Last year's welcome drink, gazpacho in a shot glass, has made way for a mug of cream of broccoli soup with toasted almonds. Clearly even the greeting from the kitchen here follows the weather. The coffee no longer comes from a capsule machine but from a professional espresso machine, and you can taste it in the cup. There's now one main course instead of three; given everything that comes to the table before it, I don't see that as a loss.
The Autumn Menu: From Venison Saddle to Beef Rib
The October menu is a parade of autumn: smoked salmon with horseradish foam, apple and sea buckthorn; duck breast with pear, plums and black garlic; labneh with padrón peppers, which are grown in Galicia in Spain; roasted cauliflower with Parmesan and hazelnuts; and a pumpkin and chorizo tart. Venison saddle with blackberries and juniper is a reminder that autumn is game season in Czech cuisine; on a brunch buffet, though, it's still a rarity.
The biggest surprise on the buffet was the Scotch egg. It's not exactly a light dish, and on buffets it usually turns up as a cold cannonball - here they make it with quail eggs and the yolk stays beautifully runny, which is a fine bit of kitchen craft for an egg fried in a coat of meat and breadcrumbs. This time the seasonal pinsa came with figs, ham and a wonderfully fragrant basil pesto; just as an aside, the "ancient Roman" pinsa is actually a Roman invention from 2001, and its creator later admitted he had made up the whole ancient backstory. The pastrami sandwich was literally stuffed with meat; the only thing it was missing was properly toasted bread.
Both made-to-order egg dishes were a success: eggs Benedict with smoked salmon, dill cream cheese and hollandaise sauce, and an egg in a glass with a porcini and chanterelle ragout under a Parmesan foam. And then the main course: beef rib with a whisky parsnip purée and an onion stuffed with pulled beef and raclette cheese, all in a demi-glace. You could cut the meat with a spoon - I didn't need a knife at all.
Desserts Made the Biggest Leap
Last year I wrote that the desserts were the weakest part of the brunch. This year I'd cross that sentence out. The mini desserts are finally keeping pace with the rest of the kitchen. The one that won me over most was the honey cake: moist, layered, with caramel cream, simply excellent. Last year I didn't linger long over the desserts; this year I tried five kinds. There was no ice cream at the end of October - with the weather outside, I doubt anyone missed it - but the fresh fruit was still there.
The Swimming Baths Where Nobody Swims Anymore
Last year I gave the building itself a single sentence - that the view of the river is beautiful. For a place with a life story like this one, that's not much, so I'm putting it right. Občanská plovárna was founded in 1840 as the civilian answer to the neighboring Vojenská plovárna, the military swimming baths - civilians were eventually allowed in there too, but sharing with soldiers had its limits, so a set of baths of their own, "for the citizens", went up next door.
The pools floated on wooden pontoons that were assembled every spring and taken down in the fall; on the bank there was a swimming school and a restaurant. Franz Kafka came here as a boy - his father taught him to swim here, and according to his biographers this is the place behind the memory in Letter to His Father of the two of them undressing together in a changing cabin. Oddly enough, it was dams that put an end to the swimming: once the Vltava Cascade was built, the river was suddenly too cold.
Marek Eben filmed his TV talk show here, simply called Na plovárně ("At the Swimming Baths"). Today the building is given over to events and the Sunday brunch. Since last year, the company that runs it has been controlled by an investment group; so, technically speaking, your brunch here is hosted by bankers.
Walk down the corridor between the halls today and you'll pass metal shelves full of preserved vegetables and mushrooms - the jars are labeled the way they would be in a home pantry: Paprika 07/26, Hřiby (porcini) 09/26.
With Kids, Prosecco and Ozzy
And one more thing for parents. The kids' corner here isn't just a rug tucked into a corner of the dining room: it has its "own" room right next to the main hall. There are also two set tables in it that don't normally get booked, because most guests want to sit with a view of the Vltava. So if you come with kids, you can be almost certain of having the whole room to yourselves: the kids in sight, your plate within reach, and peace and quiet in the main hall. Meanwhile a framed Ozzy Osbourne screams down from the wall - if you sometimes feel much the same with your kids, a glass of prosecco by the play corner is a fairly civilized solution. They pour Serena from the family winery Serena Wines 1881 in Conegliano, right in the heart of prosecco country - and, just like last year, they also have its non-alcoholic version, which still isn't a given in Prague.
A ticket costs 1,190 CZK (48 EUR), children from six to twelve pay 590 CZK (24 EUR) and younger ones eat for free; the price covers all the food plus unlimited prosecco, wine and beer. In mid-November they're also putting on a St. Martin's buffet lunch, with goose done several ways - you'll find the details in my roundup of St. Martin's menus in Prague. At the end, the head chef stopped by our table to ask how we'd enjoyed it, and with him came a little box of homemade pralines - a gesture we really hadn't expected. Outside, the rain had stopped in the meantime, and another boat was sailing down the Vltava. For the first time that day, the weather seemed perfectly fine to me.
Občanská plovárna
