Summer at Soma
Soma Restauracja & Browar
ul. Foksal 19
Tel: 828-2133
Open daily: 11:00 a.m. - 3.00 a.m.
Credit cards accepted
Fate decided to shunt us around Warsaw's right bank in a taxi. We meandered around the spaghetti junctions looping around Poniatowski Bridge after our driver, swearing he knew where he was going, took us to the wrong restaurant.
Spared from the usual cacophony of commercial radio and crackling CB banter I had time to wonder why I was being taken to La Casa Nostra, the restaurant in Saska Kepa where Sports Minister Jacek Debski dined and met his untimely demise in April.
When Celia and I arrived we were relieved the restaurant's name had been changed, and more so when the front door proved to be firmly locked, even though we arrived well within the opening hours. Our taxi driver had been right in calling the Boathouse the only restaurant in the area.
Our next choice of venue was much less murky and therefore uncontroversial. We decided to head for an informal venue with draft beer, and the thought of Soma and its microbrewery beers tickled our fancy. The city was still busy, but the noise of gridlocked traffic died down as we entered ulica Foksal, which had broken out its outdoor tables for the summer and teemed with life, so much so that we bumped into a group of friends and invited them along.
A hallway of subtle color and a stone staircase lead to a corridor formed by eight 1,000-liter brewing vats behind a glass screen evidence of Soma's curious dual ambition to be a sophisticated restaurant and a temple to beer. We moved upstairs to find the main dining room peppered with guests, but were quickly shown to an alternative spot in the lounge.
This spacious, uncluttered room felt airy thanks to a combination of warm-colored, pale walls and large windows. We sat on low couches around tables resembling hospital trolleys and looked around at the loud, blotchy and colorful Tadeusz Dominik paintings covering the walls. Our peers were mostly well-dressed 20-somethings out for a coffee, while the main dining room housed a more varied crowd of older diners.
We were disappointed to find the brewery's first batch of pale ale had already sold out. My pilsner, available in strong and sensible varieties, was very different from Polish big-brewery lagers, which are strong but deliver little flavor compared to American microbrews and British real ales.
Soma home-brew was slightly cloudy, light, with a smooth head and a refreshing citrus bitterness. According to the owners, leaving a little yeast in the beer is part of their concept of brewing traditional additive-free beer and enhancing its flavor.
When Drew's ginger ale arrived, we were surprised at how much it resembled a bronze-age ceremonial drink, with its earthy brown color, rooty fragrance and copious froth. I wondered if the same effect couldn't be achieved with a packet of curry powder and a jar of instant coffee; and I was fairly convinced it had when I first tasted it. Halfway through the meal Drew declared that the spicy Christmas beer had grown on him and by the end of the evening they had become such firm friends that we had to help him to his feet.
When deciding on our starters, Celia found it amusing that a restaurant owned by two native English speakers could have something called "vegetarian and shrimp egg rolls" on the menu. Nevertheless, they arrived hot and were crisp, greasy and stuffed with pieces of rice vermicelli and fresh ginger, which Celia enjoyed. My cream of asparagus soup was livened up by a pleasant tomato-and-herb vinaigrette at its center. The Waldorf salad was heavy on spinach and light on apple and walnut, with the blue cheese and port wine dressing dominating the flavor.
By the time our main course arrived, we'd waited so long that the sun set and all conventional topics of conversation had been exhausted. "My hair grows forward in a natural Mohawk," Simon said. When the meal did finally arrive, Celia hastily laid waste to her huge tuna steak. Despite finding it slightly overdone and rubbery, she remarked positively on the warm nicoise salad and the fresh basil in her vinaigrette. I ordered the caramelized duck breast, which I found floating in a spicy, but disappointingly bland, honey sauce. My tempura had fused into a battered carrot-and-parsnip arachnid in the middle of my plate that, on dismantling, proved to be crisp and sweet, with the tiny serving of grapefruit and avocado salsa a pleasant addition.
We sat back in our deep couches to the hectic bustle still emanating from the adjoining rooms, noticing that Soma had delivered on the promise of intoxication contained in its name. Our meal ended with a chocolate brownie that had spent so long in the oven it resembled a basalt souvenir from Morocco's black desert and we left, walking past a throbbing club atmosphere in the downstairs bar; firm converts to Soma's brewing skills, but less than enthused by the cooking. Not too bad, but there's certainly room for improvement. The bill came to zl. 216 ($54) for two.
On the menu:
Cream of green asparagus soup zl.9
Vegetarian and shrimp egg rolls zl.19
Waldorf salad zl.18
Grilled tuna steak zl.41
Caramelized duck breast zl.41
Soma holiday zl.16
Soma-brewed beers zl. 9
