Prague and Central Bohemian Cuisine, a Summer Journey for Svíčková and Utopenci - #PCČ4

Stop Four: Into the Heart of Bohemia

In the south we fished for carp, in the Chodsko region we baked kolache, and last week we warmed up over kyselo in the Krkonoše Mountains. The fourth stop of our summer journey across Czechia and Moravia comes down from the mountains straight into the capital and the region around it: Prague and Central Bohemia.

Prague cuisine was never born of scarcity. It grew out of burgher households, pubs and markets supplied from all over Bohemia, and from the 16th century the imperial court peeked into its pots as well. Central Bohemia added a solid country base: sauces for Sunday lunch, pig-slaughter feasts and riverside pubs where utopenci were born.

In part four we taste Prague ham with a story a century and a half old, cook svíčková and the great pub sauces, and pickle utopenci from a brand-new recipe. We also share tips on where to follow Charles IV or hunt for silver in Kutná Hora.

Central Bohemia is also the region the history of the whole country passes through. Přemyslid strongholds, silver mines, imperial residences and First Republic day-trip restaurants have all left their mark on the plate. Prague cuisine may be the best textbook of Czech history you can eat.

Prague Ham, Pink Gold from Zvonařka

We start with a dish that carries Prague in its name. Butcher František Zvěřina began making Prague-style ham in his small shop around 1857, curing the legs in a mild brine and smoking them over beechwood. That process gave the ham its delicate, gently smoky flavor.

It was the smoked-meats maker Antonín Chmel, though, who turned it into a world brand. In 1879 he founded a factory below the U Zvonařky homestead in Vinohrady, and the small workshop grew into a business employing hundreds. Chmel's ham traveled to Bavaria and Romania and crossed the ocean in tins. It collected medals at exhibitions, and the words Prague ham became a mark of quality that producers around the world still invoke today.

That this is more than nostalgia was confirmed in 2018 by the European Commission, which after six years of negotiations granted Prague ham the Traditional Speciality Guaranteed label. The protection covers bone-in, boneless and tinned versions. The original works below Zvonařka are gone, but the name lives on in Prague, and U Zvonařky street still cuts through Vinohrady today.

At home, honor it simply: a slice of good bone-in ham, fresh bread, horseradish and butter. No sauce, no tricks. With food this storied, that is enough. And if you want to go all the way, you can make the ham yourself: our homemade ham recipe follows right below this paragraph.

Svíčková, Queen of the Sunday Lunch

If Czech cuisine has a crown jewel, it is svíčková. Beef larded with bacon is roasted on a bed of root vegetables. The pan juices are blended and mellowed with cream into a velvety sauce balanced between sweet and sour. It comes with bread dumplings, a spoonful of lingonberries and a slice of lemon.

The road to fame led through burgher cookbooks. The era was ruled by Magdalena Dobromila Rettigová, whose Domácí kuchařka of 1826 taught Czech housewives to handle cream, spices and roast beef. Today's svíčková is a child of that school: a dish that demands time, good ingredients and a cook who is not afraid to keep tasting.

Recipes for roast beef with cream sauce appear in Czech cookbooks as early as the 19th century. Ever since, families have argued without a winner: more vegetables or more cream? Sugar or no sugar? Lingonberries on the meat or straight into the sauce? One thing is certain. Svíčková used to be a festive dish for honored guests, and it took the middle-class cooking of the last century to make it a Sunday standard.

Svíčková comes with rituals, too. The meat is larded a day ahead, the vegetables are browned deeply, and the sauce is either strained or blended, depending on which family school you belong to. Sunday conversations about it tend to start with the words: our grandmother did it differently.

You will find our recipe for proper svíčková and fluffy bread dumplings below. Allow time: the larded meat is best left to rest overnight, and the sauce tastes even better the next day.

Pub Classics: the Spanish Bird, Tomato and Dill Sauce

Prague and Central Bohemian pubs keep a trio of sauce classics alive. The best story belongs to španělský ptáček, the Spanish bird. The beef roulades were supposedly brought to Prague by Spanish cooks in the entourage of Maria of Spain, mother of Emperor Rudolf II. They arrived when the Habsburg court moved to Prague in the 16th century. The first written recipe was recorded at the end of the 17th century by Evermod Jiří Košetický, a monk of the Strahov monastery. Today's filling of bacon, egg, pickle and sausage is a child of post-war pub standards, and that is exactly how we love it.

Next to the bird stands tomato sauce with beef, a sweet-and-sour classic that tastes miles better at home than it ever did in a school canteen. And there is dill sauce with egg, a dish that reliably splits the nation into two irreconcilable camps. All three recipes are attached. Pick your side.

Tomato and dill sauce only became household names in the 20th century, when workplace canteens and school kitchens cooked them in millions of portions to unified standards. That is why every Czech has a relationship with them: they either remind you of childhood, or they remind you of it a little too much. It is hardly fair, though, to compare the homemade version with proper stock and a butter roux to the canteen one.

Utopenci, a Legend from the Berounka

No dish tells the story of Czech pubs like utopenci. Sausages slit open, spread with mustard, layered with onion and drowned in a sweet-and-sour vinegar brine were born of necessity. Pubs had no refrigerators, and cured meat had to be kept for leaner times.

By the most widespread account they were invented by Šamánek, a miller and innkeeper from the Beroun region. He served the pickled sausages to his guests from large stoneware pots. The dish supposedly got its name only after his death: he drowned while repairing his mill wheel. It cannot be proven, but the story belongs to utopenci as inseparably as a frosted pint.

It all stands on an honest špekáček. The real thing has a springy bite, a smoky aroma and above all plenty of meat. Traditional špekáčky have in fact enjoyed the same European protection as Prague ham since 2011. The brine exposes every shortcut: cheap flour-padded sausages fall apart, while good ones just turn tender and soak up the flavor of onion and spice.

We wrote our homemade utopenci recipe from scratch for this installment. You need nothing but a big jar and patience. The flavor matures for one to two weeks in the cold. And if the wait feels long, bake šunkofleky in the meantime, another pub staple, ready in an hour.

Where to Go: from Náplavka to Karlštejn

In summer, Prague tastes best by the water. The Saturday farmers' market on the Náplavka embankment at Výtoň is among the biggest in the country. You can buy smoked meats, goat cheeses, summer fruit and a coffee to sip with your feet above the Vltava and a view of Vyšehrad.

A short way up the Berounka lies the homeland of utopenci, and above it the castle of castles. Karlštejn was founded by Charles IV in 1348 as a treasury for the coronation jewels and the imperial regalia. Its greatest treasure is the Chapel of the Holy Cross with panel paintings by Master Theodoric, though for the chapel tour you should book a place in advance.

To see where Prague has shopped for centuries, stop by Havelské tržiště. A market has run here without interruption since 1232, the last surviving medieval marketplace in the city centre. The stalls now sell mostly fruit, vegetables and souvenirs, but the feel of a medieval street remains. And just beyond Prague's edge lies Průhonice Park, a landscape masterpiece by Count Arnošt Emanuel Silva Tarouca, inscribed on the UNESCO list together with the historic centre of Prague.

Castle lovers need not stop at Karlštejn. Deeper in the forests above the Berounka hides Křivoklát, one of the oldest royal castles, where the Přemyslids once rode out to hunt. The Karlštejn and Křivoklát pair can be managed in a single day, and in the riverside pubs between them they serve, what else, utopenci.

East of Prague stands Kutná Hora, a medieval silver town on the UNESCO list. The Cathedral of St Barbara, patron saint of miners, is high Gothic paid for with silver from the local mines. The Italian Court once minted the Prague groschen, and the Sedlec Ossuary with its decoration of human bones is an experience you will not forget.

South of Prague stands Konopiště, the last residence of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, heir to the throne. The chateau still looks as if its owner had only stepped out: hunting trophies on the walls, a collection of weapons and a rose garden planted below the windows.

And one final stop: Mělník. On the way down the Vltava you can stop in Nelahozeves, the birthplace of Antonín Dvořák with a Renaissance chateau of the Lobkowicz family. The chateau town above the confluence of the Elbe and the Vltava is surrounded by vineyards. Tradition says they were planted on the orders of Charles IV when he brought Burgundy grape varieties to Bohemia. A glass of Mělník wine above the meeting of the rivers is a dignified end to a Central Bohemian trip.

Next Stop: Vysočina

Prague and Central Bohemia prove that the classics are anything but boring. Prague cuisine survived the imperial court, the First Republic and pub standards, and it still delivers. If you pickle your own utopenci this summer, write and tell us how long you managed to wait.

And as always, the best guide is your own fork. Try our svíčková recipe, compare it with the pub version and decide for yourselves which one wins. Czech classics can take the debate. That is exactly why we love them.

The summer journey across Czechia and Moravia continues next Saturday. From the capital we head south-east to the Vysočina Highlands, a land of granite boulders and potato fields where the smell of potato pancakes wafts from every other cottage. Bring your appetite.