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This was the first time we had to attempt to “bleep” cussing in a video! Hope it worked!
Ever been lost in a big city? How about a city with crazy… CONTINUE READING >>
This was the first time we had to attempt to “bleep” cussing in a video! Hope it worked!
Ever been lost in a big city? How about a city with crazy signs you can’t read and serious construction everywhere? For more info on driving in the Czech Republic: https://www.gypsynester.com/czechtires.htm
Sunlight could scarcely reach the ground between the tightly packed buildings, maybe that’s why when they were built they called the period The Dark Ages. Then we burst out into the open daylight of The Old Town Square… CONTINUE READING >>
The Old Town of Prague, bounded by The Vltava River to the north and west, and New Town on the east and south, wasPrague for the first or five or six centuries of her existence.
It struck us that very little had changed.
Sunlight could scarcely reach the ground between the tightly packed buildings, maybe that’s why when they were built they called the period The Dark Ages. Then we burst out into the open daylight of The Old Town Square.
It was like stepping inside a fairy-tale picture book.
The plaza seemed especially huge because of the contrast with the narrow streets leading into it.
But size is not what makes the square so impressive, that task is accomplished by the remarkable architecture enclosing the space.
Best known of the buildings are the Old Town Hall, with the world’s oldest working Astronomical Clock on its tower, and the Týn and St. Nicholas Churches.
We took in every building, famous or not, because they are all treasures.
While we were gawking, the delicious aromas of classic Czech street foods wafted over to us. We became like cartoon characters following a gossamer scent trail to find its source. Sometimes our feet didn’t even touch the ground.
Ah, there it is, a cluster of booths, let’s see what they’ve got:
The first booth was roasting traditional Prague ham, pražská šunka, on a spit over an open fire. The smell was staggering.
Cured and smoked ham has been a staple of the Prague diet for around five hundred years and the locals were lined up to get ’em some.
We joined the queue. When we finally got our paper plate, sagging with juicy slices and served up with rye bread and mustard, it was well worth the wait.
Edibles spinning over an open fire seemed to be the cooking method of choice – dessert was being served up in the next booth over in the form of rotisserie sweet rolls called Trdelník.
These gastric goodies originated in Slovakia, but the Czechs held on to Trdelník when the countries split.
We watched enthralled as two Czech girls rolled dough onto steel poles , put them over the coals, pulled them off the bars at just the right moment and rolled them in sugar – all without ever missing a beat in the heated argument they were carrying on.
Their fighting didn’t harm the flavor of these tasty toffee flavored treats.
Off to the east of the square we could see the Powder Tower, marking the gate between the New and Old Towns. New is strictly a relative term. Prague’s New Town began over six hundred years ago, so it is only new compared to Old Town, which is twice that age.
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With a coded message, this stunning 50 foot baroque is a memorial for 6,146 plague victims. As we contemplated the anguished figures on the tower, we noticed… CONTINUE READING>>
With a coded message, this stunning 50 foot baroque is a memorial for 6,146 plague victims. As we contemplated the anguished figures on the tower, we noticed that many of the letters in the inscriptions were highlighted in gold. On further inspection we realized that all of these correspond to Roman numerals and were curious as to the explanation.
Turns out that the numbers add up to six thousand one hundred and forty six, the total number of victims claimed by the plague in Kutná Hora. Wow. This must be like what the guy in The Da Vinci Code feels like all the time!
Drawn to this part of the Czech Republic – like a prepubescent girl to a Justin Bieber concert – by the legend of a church filled with decorative bones, we were served up an unexpected treat when we stayed in the nearby town of Kutná Hora.
In a bygone era, Kutná Hora rivaled Prague as the main city of Bohemia, the traditional name for the western half of Czech, and several kings… CONTINUE READING >>
Drawn to this part of the Czech Republic – like a prepubescent girl to a Justin Bieber concert – by the legend of a church filled with decorative bones, we were served up an unexpected treat when we stayed in the nearby town of Kutná Hora.
The town turned out to be much more than just a place to crash on the way to Prague.
In a bygone era, Kutná Hora rivaled Prague as the main city of Bohemia, the traditional name for the western half of Czech, and several kings took up residence here.
Silver was coming out of these hills in massive quantities during the fourteenth century, perhaps the most ever found in Europe.
The town was rolling in dough and, as we know, kings like dough.
King Wenceslaus II (not the good one who look-ed down at the snow on the feast of Stephen, he was hundreds of years earlier) issued a decree snatching all of the silver for the crown.
Still, the town prospered and became home to the royal mint, where many a Prague Groschen got stamped out.
Before long, Kutná Hora’s coins became the main currency for all of central Europe.
History has left Kutná Hora with some remarkable historic landmarks but we were exhausted from the day’s gruesome findings at Sedlec and our main interest was in finding some grub, grog and a night’s repose.
But first a bit of sleuthing. A few years back we had heard a story about Anheuser-Busch filing a lawsuit against a Czech brewery concerning the use of the name Budweiser.
The American beer giant wanted them to cease and desist, Budweiser was their property.
One big snag in their case, the Budejovický Budvar has been brewing Budweiser beer in Bohemia for about eight hundred years, so… guess who gets to use the name around these parts?
We always liked this little David vs. Goliath story and wanted to give the “real” Budweiser a try, so we found a little corner pub and ordered us up a couple of Buds. We’re not gonna lie, there’s no contest, the Bohemian Bud is the superior brew.
To say we stuck out in this joint is beyond an understatement.
Not only were we the only non-Czech speaking people, we were also the only non-tattooed and the only ones not ripped to the gills on a different sort of bud.
After what could only be described as an interesting half hour, we went in search of dumplings.
Veronica grew up on Czech food, almost all of which included dumplings, so we were on a mission to find an authentic local eatery. Perhaps with a less buzzed clientele. By wandering a few streets away from the main part of town, we found our spot.
If the restaurant had a name, they weren’t bothering to advertise it on a sign – not one we could decipher anyway – but the smell and laughter drew us in.
We might have been the first non-native to ever to set foot in the place, a fantastic find.
After another Budweiser (just to be absolutely certain that we liked it better than its American counterpart) we ordered the goulash and “the special.”
We were thrilled that there was a special – we love the element of surprise and the ensuing mixed results. Before long, a giant bowl of goulash and a huge plate of roast pork and dumplings arrived. Dumplings! The table bowed a bit under the burden.
The goulash was out of this world. Meat, sausage, onions, peppers and a sauce that was pure Bohemian magic.
The special was this – roast pork, bread dumplings, sweet gravy, some kind of fruit jelly-like substance and whipped cream.
Not whipped heavy cream by itself, but sugar laden whipped cream.
Once getting past that initial slightly off-putting, unexpected bite – we likened it to drinking a cola, only to realize it was root beer at the last second – we found pleasure in the mixture of salty and sweet. Added bonus – no dessert necessary.
We could have easily shared either one of these entrees, this was enough food for four people, but we were determined to eat it all.
Two hours later, we declared victory. With beers the bill only came to about $20 – unbeatable. The stroll a few blocks to our bed was about all we could take.
The next morning we put off our journey to Prague for a day to check out the town.
It could have been because it was such a beautiful day, or perhaps because we were awakened by a brass band playing in Palaký Square right outside our window, or it just seemed like the thing to do, but we are glad we did.
St. Barbara’s Cathedral dominates Kutná Hora from a hill overlooking the city, so it was the obvious first stop.
The trek up took us past the Czech Museum of Silver, known as The Little Castle, and the Jesuit seminary.
Along the seminary is a walkway with a row of giant statues of thirteen saints and a spectacular view of the valley below. Because of the limited space, the path leads to the side door of the Cathedral.
A miner’s chapel had occupied the site for nearly a century.
Then in 1388 the miners had a big idea and an enormous project to build this Gothic masterpiece dedicated to St. Barbara, the patron saint of miners, began.
The work continued, on and off depending of the fortunes of the silver mines, until 1905 when it was finally deemed complete and the cathedral was consecrated.
Inside the church there are small chapels dedicated to saints and miners lining the walls, many with murals dating back to 1588 when the structure was finally enclosed.
Interestingly, because the cathedral was not financed by the church, and consecrated so late in its history – grand as it was – it was not the main church for the village.
That honor went to older Church of St. James, with the classic eastern European onion shaped dome, in the center of Kutná Hora.
Back down in town, we made our way to the Plague Column. This monument was raised after the last epidemic of Black Death in 1713.
The fifty feet high tower was carved by František Baugut, also the sculptor of the thirteen statues of saints along the walkway leading to St. Barbara’s.
The baroque memorial begins at the base with tormented looking victims, topped by prayerful saints and crowned with a victorious Virgin Mary.
As we contemplated the anguished figures on the tower, we noticed that many of the letters in the inscriptions were highlighted in gold. On further inspection we realized that all of these correspond to Roman numerals and were curious as to the explanation.
Turns out that the numbers add up to six thousand one hundred and forty six, the total number of victims claimed by the plague in Kutná Hora. Wow. This must be like what the guy in The Da Vinci Code feels like all the time!
Just around the corner from the column is Kamenný dum, known as the Stone House.
This Gothic dwelling from the 1400s is considered one of the better examples of a “burgher house,” or typical middle class Bohemian home.
The structure has been built onto over the years and sculptures depicting the ascent of the soul into heaven were added to its facade in the 1600s.
As with many of the important buildings here, it is now a municipal museum, depicting Czech life through the latter half of the last millennium.
On our way out of town we spotted a man laying in a new sidewalk.
Stopping to watch for awhile, it was fascinating to see the craftsmanship that goes into the beautiful cobblestone paths of the village.
Working exactly like his predecessors have for centuries, he carefully chose each stone, fit it into a spot and tapped it into place with a hammer. The connection to the past and the present was striking because his method was ancient but the result will last for generations into the future.
Yes, no doubt some wanderer in the year 2525, if man is still alive, will look to his spouse, if woman can survive (whoa whoa), and say, “damn, walking on these cobblestones all day has worn my feet out!”
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St. Barbara’s Cathedral dominates Kutná Hora from a hill overlooking the city. A miner’s chapel had occupied the site for nearly… CONTINUE READING >>
St. Barbara’s Cathedral dominates Kutná Hora from a hill overlooking the city. A miner’s chapel had occupied the site for nearly a century, then in 1388 the miners had a big idea and an enormous project to build this Gothic masterpiece dedicated to St. Barbara, the patron saint of miners, began. The work continued, on and off depending of the fortunes of the silver mines, until 1905 when it was finally deemed complete and the cathedral was consecrated.
In many ways Casale is your typical medium-sized town of Italy. About thirty thousand souls reside around an ancient center with a wonderfully preserved medieval castle, several spectacular towers dot the skyline and at least one unique food item calls Casale home. Perhaps the biggest difference between Casale and other Italian towns is that the item is not a wine, olive oil or cheese, but a cookie.
A cookie that has remained unchanged for nearly a century and a… CONTINUE READING >>
Staying off the beaten path in Italy has many rewards, not least of which are the less-than-touristy towns – hidden gems, completely unknown to the AutoStrada-blazing passerby.
Casale Monferrato, in the northern Italian region of Piemonte (Piedmont), the foothills of the Alps, is just such a gem.
In many ways Casale is your typical medium-sized town of Italy.
About thirty thousand souls reside around an ancient center with a wonderfully preserved medieval castle, several spectacular towers dot the skyline and at least one unique food item calls Casale home.
Perhaps the biggest difference between Casale and other Italian towns is that the item is not a wine, olive oil or cheese, but a cookie.
A cookie that has remained unchanged for nearly a century and a half.
We have been huge fans of Krumiri Rossi since our friends, Paolo and Claudia, sent us a tin of these cookies that rolled our eyes back for the holidays several years ago.
On our first visit to Casale the following spring, we discovered that the aroma of these treats filled the town.
This time we were lucky enough to have David’s band mate Paolo set up an exclusive behind-the-scenes peek at the cookie production process. Apparently, Paolo knows people. We didn’t ask questions.
We followed our noses to meet Anna Portinaro, the current guardian of the confection tradition, who was kind enough to greet us for a personal tour of the factory”
The beautiful thing is, there is no factory here, only a couple of rooms in the back of the shop where careful artisans hand create these mouth-watering morsels in a manner virtually identical to the way the first cookie came out of the oven back in 1878.
With Paolo patiently translating, Anna explains how only five ingredients, flour, butter, eggs, sugar and vanilla, go into the giant mixing bowl.
Of course the exact amount of each is a closely held secret (the only clue that we sniffed out on our tour was that because water is not used in the batter, the eggs have to be cracked at a critical time).
Because of its history, Krumiri Rossi is protected under Italian law as a work of art. Many have tried to duplicate the recipe, but somehow they fail – no other cookie has come even close to rolling our eyes back in our heads.
After “resting,” the dough is squeezed out of a machine in long bars that are then cut and hand shaped into the classic arc that was designed as a tribute to the first king of the united Italy, Vittorio Emanuele II, and his handle-bar mustache.
From there they are popped into the oven, watched, turned and set out to cool by the master chef.
In the next room the cookies are carefully hand packed into the iconic tin boxes, no conveyer belts or metal claws to break these delicate delicacies.
Paolo mentioned how the boxes have been a part of his life since childhood, noting that “you usually put something in the box after the cookies are gone.”
The Krumiri Rossi storefront houses a small “museum” where Anna displayed how the original hand-cranked cookie dough squeezer-outer worked and showed us how the iconic tin boxes had changed though the years.
Our morning ended as Anna presented us with cookies still warm from the oven and a beautifully wrapped package of her pride-and-joys.
We left with a new appreciation for the confections and the craftsmanship that goes into creating them. To learn more go to the Krumiri Rossi website.
As the bells rung noon we thought “if this is Tuesday, we must be in Casale,” and that means market day!
As with almost every village, two days a week the main square becomes a bustling market.
Most anything and everything, shoes, toys, clothing, cleaning supplies and unbelievable food offerings fill the tables, carts, trailers and trucks sprawled across the plaza.
On this particular morning a small cloudburst sent shoppers scurrying under the canopies, but no worries, it took no more than a minute or two and four Euros to procure an umbrella.
New weather protection in hand, we skipped the household items and headed straight for the food.
A vast expanse of magnificent meat, sensational seafood, fabulous formaggio, tantalizing tentacle and palate pleasing produce filled our senses.
A bountiful smorgasbord of goodies for the eyes, nose, ears, but unfortunately, not so much for the mouth. Every time we hit one of these open air markets across Europe, our first thought is “Damn, I wish we had a kitchen.”
Since we didn’t have our own, visiting a friend in the kitchen was the next best thing. Actually even better because Claudia certainly knows her way around an Italian cucina.
She was gracious enough to let us watch her as she made her delicious Pesto Rossa con Ricotta and the dessert, typical of the Piemonte region, Bunet. She allowed us to share her secrets:
Claudia’s cooking is light and fresh and she utilizes ingredients from her Momma Cesarina’s garden. It is said that Cesarina’s amazing backyard crops are much more than organic – she talks to the bugs and asks them to leave the plants alone.
And they do.
We always feel like we’ve done something wonderful for our bodies – and minds – when we eat at Claudia’s table. Excellent food and conversation abound.