On the Ball: the Revival of Polish Food

posted by Geoff Andrews at Sunday, December 09, 2012

Football and Polish food have always gone together for me. I first went to Patio, London’s best value Polish restaurant, in the mid-1990s following Queens Park Rangers matches and have been going on and off since then. Whereas QPR’s fortunes during this time have swung from the sublime to the ridiculous - normally the latter – Patio’s menu has been extraordinarily consistent. The old favourites, Bigos, Golabki (stuffed cabbage rolls), Pierogi, and Blinis are still there. Plus vodka and pancakes of course. While QPR has been turning itself into a ‘boutique’ club, Patio has maintained its atmospheric, slightly cramped, old drawing room, complete with piano. Its clientele are generally loyalists and an eclectic mix of artists and locals, who are used to Polish hospitality rather than the global-speak of modern service culture. As England’s match with Poland was being called off last week I found myself in Patio again; its Shepherd’s Bush Green venue now not only convenient for QPR but also for the bus back to Oxford. While QPR season-tickets have escalated, even the price – three courses for £16.50 – seems hardly to have risen at all.


One of Fabio Capello’s lasting legacies to the English football team was to arrange their accommodation and training base in Krakow for Euro 2012. Since his departure before the tournament began, his decision was initially the subject of some criticism as it placed the squad some distance from their group matches in Ukraine. However, could it just be that Capello, a known connoisseur of fine cheeses, and with an eye to art and architecture, was attracted by Poland’s cultural renaissance, including its culinary pleasures?

The Polish national team may not have lived up to expectations at Euro 2012 but Polish cuisine has been undergoing something of a revival since the end of communism in 1989 and now deserves wider recognition. ‘Hearty and wholesome’ is a frequent, perhaps overly stereotypical, description of the stews, soups and dumplings, and this can sometimes overshadow some of the exceptional produce now beginning to be recognised – such as its beer and bread. Poland’s recent history explains much about its recent resurgence, though as I found when I was travelling for my Slow Food book, many of its food stories have very deep roots and have shown remarkable durability. This was also apparent during the Polish Culinary Paths tour in Warsaw I attended last autumn, organised by the Adam Mickiewicza Institute, which was founded to promote Polish culture and international exchange.

Milk Bars

If 1989 was the moment when farmers and food producers could see a way out of austerity, state control and rationing, it is also revealing that in the case of Poland not all communist era food disappeared. Unlike some eastern European countries (Romania comes to mind) whose food traditions under communism had almost been obliterated, the memory of Polish food was never completely lost. The continuing popularity of the milk (mleczny) bars has surprised many. Conceived originally as cheap wholesome food for workers, as communist city canteens during meat rationing in the 1960s, the Milk Bars have managed to survive, some would say reinvent themselves, in the post-communist era of fast food and global restaurants. In Warsaw alone, there are still around ten milk bars. In the Bambino milk bar in the financial district, in a street more renowned for Sushi and expensive ‘global’ restaurants, queues form early for lunch. The clientele here are in fact are a wide social mix of professional people, students and workers, not put off by the austere conditions of simple formica tables. At one corner is an official from the US embassy, at others students and apparently homeless people. There are no waiters; food is ordered at the counter and then brisk no-nonsense kitchen staff call out when it is ready for collection. The food on offer here consists of traditional home-cooked Polish food; soups, pierogi (dumplings) and stews for around 4-8 euros for a full meal. Though meat is now an option in some places, there is no alcohol and often plastic cutlery.

In Praga, a working class district of Warsaw situated on the banks of River Vistula, which was a very poor and occasionally dangerous place under communism, the Milk Bar remains virtually unchanged and a meal here costs next to nothing. Nearby is Praga’s old market, once the scene for black market food exchanges where aspects of Poland’s rich culinary tradition would be sustained by grandmothers dishing up ‘illegal’ helpings of local meat dishes. Milk Bars are still subsidised by the state and accept food tokens for those without work or on low incomes. They remain popular with students, elderly people and people living on the margins but their appeal is clearly wider and has been increased during times of economic hardship. In a country which initially welcomed the novelty of fast food, they offer evidence that there is a cheaper healthier option. This is fast ‘slow food’.

Praga was the home of some of Warsaw’s major vodka distilleries, though little is left of that trade now. One of these, Koneser, has been converted into a major cultural venue, which includes an art gallery, concert venue and bar, where you can still taste a variety of vodkas along with Flaczki (tripe stew), herring and sausages. Some are hoping Praga, with its converted warehouses and vibrant creative heart, can be the Brooklyn of Warsaw. This mix of tradition and innovation has become to characterise Polish cities in recent years, providing a hope for a more sustainable type of tourism at the same time as promoting the countries rich culture. Food reflects this trajectory perfectly. .

The Warsaw Ghetto.

From the top of the Palace of Culture and Science, Warsaw’s tallest – and one of its ugliest – building, which was a ‘gift’ from Stalin to the people of Poland and is still reminiscent to some Poles of the period of Soviet domination, you can make out the remnants of the old Warsaw Ghetto. This was constructed by the Nazis in 1940 and housed together 400,000 people almost a third of the population of Warsaw, under appalling conditions of repression, disease and starvation. From there, the majority were sent to perish in Treblinka Concentration Camp. The film The Pianist reminds us of the resistance and the extreme hardship of life in the Ghetto and the importance of Jewish culture at its most desperate time. Despite the horrors and tragedy of that time, the importance of Jewish culture in Warsaw has remained and celebrated in an annual Festival of Jewish Culture in the city. It is also evident in the food revival, in which the revival of Jewish cuisine has been led by Malfa Kafka’s Tel Aviv restaurant.

Many Polish food stories have fascinating histories which should enhance the potential for its future revival. In 2007, Jacek Szklarek told me the story of the Oscypek cheese producers from the Tatra mountains who, in order to avoid export restrictions, had to smuggle their cheese under bus seats on their way to Slow Food’s Salone del Gusto. Along our journey from Warsaw to Krakow we also dropped in on one of the few traditional mead producers. At Terra Madre 2012 I encountered Jacek, tasted more Oscypek (served with cranberry sauce) and toasted Jaros Maciej’s mead at the stall presided over by his son. I also discovered for the first time the Lisiecka sausage, made from tender pork cuts and full of flavour (with slight pepper/garlic aromas) and which, like many other traditional Polish products, was often clandestinely produced under communism.

Polish food is clearly not looking back, however. Three days in Warsaw made it apparent that polish chefs and producers have embraced new ideas, evident in new restaurants and bars like Tamka 43. For nouvelle cuisine Polish-style, and a menu which is postmodern in the extreme, you will have to visit Wojciech Amaro’s Atelier Amaro. It had only been open a few months when we visited but his revolutionary idea of re-imagining classic dishes with a modern twist had already made a big impact, winning Poland’s first Michelin Star. He offered us 5 moments, (including Venison and wild berry; wild Salmon and blackcurrant) and much philosophy. On reflection, I think however that the traditionalists win the day and would expect to see more interest from food critics in the history of Polish food over the next few years.