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Strange brew

By : Dolores Cruz

     Kaiser Bier  ul. Chielna 24  Warsaw  Hours:   Monday-Saturday: 11 a.m.-3 a.m;   Sunday: Noon-3 a.m  Telephone 834-1184  Reservations and credit cards   accepted

   You've got to admire a restaurant named after a beer. It's simple, refreshing and easy to remember – even if you've scoffed one too many pints of the amber nectar.

   And you have to admire a restaurant even more that's brave enough to feature the aforementioned beer in one of its hors d'oeuvres. Don't be put off by the fact that the dish is eel in Kaiser Bier sauce – served cold – because I think it shows great creativity. I mean, who would think of mixing eel and beer and serving it cold? A drunken fisherman who'd run out of matches, perhaps?

   Regardless of what the chef was thinking when he dreamed that one up, I have to confess I was a bit of a culinary coward the night I visited Kaiser Bier. The gourmand in me desperately wanted to taste the eel and I spent a long time pondering what slices of eel in a cold beer sauce might look like and, more importantly, how they might taste. But I was very tired, I was very hungry, and I was very worried I wouldn't like it.

   Kaiser Bier, a pub-cum-restaurant, opened last July. I haven't been able to get to the bottom of why the owners named it after the popular brand of Austrian beer, but they tell me they've had a change of heart and they're thinking up a new name for the place.

   It's situated in the middle of ulica Chmielna, which coincidentally means "beer hops." I liken the street to a big bowl of Polish bigos – everything is just thrown in together and somehow it comes out tasting pretty good. Closed to traffic, Chmielna's restaurants and pubs sit comfortably alongside trendy fashion boutiques, a Catholic paraphernalia store, and even the ubiquitous Cepelia craft shop. By day, buskers and tulip vendors line the road. At night, you'll find couples rubbing elbows with rowdy groups of disheveled businessmen.

   As Polish pubs go, Kaiser Bier is pretty tasteful. The lighting is nice and dim, the music is just right, and the color scheme is reminiscent of a giant pumpkin – all burnt orange and dark green. There are big windows so you can watch the world go by, but we opted for a table at the back of the restaurant. For a Tuesday night, there was a good crowd of people, including a table of burly Poles with cropped haircuts, leather jackets and mobiles that rang incessantly. But they were bigger than us, so we just sat quietly in our booth, ordered two icy-cold Kaiser Biers, and read the menu, which is in Polish and English.

   After deciding against the cold eel and being told the wild game ragout in a vol au vencie wasn't available, I chose the traditional potato pancake with goulash. It would be an understatement to say it was huge. The waitress presented a gigantic plate with a great puddle of goulash smothering a wonderfully buttery crisp potato pancake, like a giant fried chip, only better. It wasn't the most appetizing thing to look at – I mean how good can stew look – but it was rich and tasty and there was plenty of meat, mushrooms and peppers.

   David also opted for the goulash – in a soup form – so it was just a slightly runnier version of mine, and about half the size. His only complaint was that it wasn't as spicy as its Hungarian doppelganger.

   Except for a couple of vegetarian pastas, the rest of the menu was a meat-lover's paradise – everything from T-bone steak and beef shish kebab in an alluringly named "gypsy sauce," to a good ol' pork cutlet in caper sauce and a leg of weal (sic). Just the type of pub grub that goes well with beer – or a wine from the restaurant's comprehensive list for that matter.

   David's "Viennese schnitzel" was as big as a handbag, but thankfully not nearly as tough. It was breaded and lightly fried, and came with lemon wedges, salad, chips, and a fried egg on top as Polish restaurants are wont to do.

   "It's just like my mum's, which is the best schnitzel in the world – and you can quote me on that," said David in the way of a back-handed compliment to Kaiser Bier and his mum.

   My two salmon fillets were just as gigantic. They were supposed to be grilled, but I suspect they were floured and pan fried. I like my salmon slightly rare, but these were cooked to within an inch of their life. Nonetheless they tasted pretty good and came with a rather dubious bright orange cognac sauce that had congealed next to my rice and steamed vegetables.

   After such a mammoth meal, dessert was out of the question, although I was tempted to find out what a Viking banana was?

   And by the way, if you do visit Kaiser Bier and order the cold eel hors d'oeuvres with the Kaiser Bier sauce, drop me a line at cbarnes@wbj.pl and let me know how it was.

   Dinner for two, including a few Kaiser Biers, came to zl. 163 ($39.75).

   On the menu:

   Slices of eel in Kaiser Bier saucezl.35Wild game ragout in vol au ventszl.35Traditional potato pancake with goulashzl.25Goulash soup with croutonszl.18Grilled salmon in cognac sauce served with rice and vegetableszl.43Viennese schnitzel with eggzl.40Viking bananazl.16Tiramisuzl.25

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