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Song of myself

A less-than-successful culinary venture by a cultural icon
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By Dave Faries
Staff Writer, The Prague Post
October 17th, 2007 issue

Gott Gallery

Spálená 29
Prague 1–New Town
Tel. 224 996 775
Open daily 8 a.m.–11 p.m.

Food **
Service ***
Atmosphere **
Overall **

Jan Přerovský/THE PRAGUE POST
Is this a swagger I see before me? The larger than life star on canvas.
FROM THE MENU

Broccoli cream soup 40 Kč
Salmon tartare 121 Kč
Grilled goat cheese 91 Kč
Pepper steak 251 Kč
Pork medallions 210 Kč
Lamb chops 231 Kč

Karel Gott is an enormous star.
Even in repose, just kicking back on his own couch, the Czech equivalent of Wayne Newton inspires awe, the kind that makes women quiver and men dip their heads in respect.
At least that’s the impression you glean from one of the original paintings by the singer-cum-artist adorning the walls of his sleek new restaurant.
The canvas in question is a self-portrait, hung on the ground floor — the lounge area of his New Town digs. The star portrays himself in a quiet and pensive moment, resting next to an unfinished study of the female body, his legs splayed so your eye drifts naturally toward the big guy’s manly assets.
Rest assured, Gott sees himself as an enormous star, too.
Other paintings scattered throughout the aptly named Gott Gallery more often feature colorful scenes of nightlife, music and, well, cleavage. Gott’s witty interpretation of the Mona Lisa, which subjects the enigmatic brunette to a wardrobe malfunction while propped in a teeming wine bar, indulges man’s innate appreciation of all things sophomoric.
Food service, likewise, shows outward signs of maturity. But it can’t fully suppress the culinary equivalent of adolescence. Dishes sometimes find themselves groping in that wannabe space between sophisticated and amateurish.
Thus salmon tartare on toast is rendered harmless by hearty handfuls of filler — garlic and red onion — that reach out and yank your attention from the sturdy taste of glossy, grapefruit-colored fish. Everybody’s childhood nemesis, broccoli, ends up in a smooth, milky soup supported only by a helping of herbs.
Or, at least, that was the intention. Heavy doses of salt shove softer, more intricate details out of the way, leaving only vaguely scattered traces of earthy, vegetal flavors.
Gott Gallery’s version of the ubiquitous grilled goat-cheese appetizer is a plate with triangles of curd parched by relentless heat until they collapse into something compact and granular — a mouth feel perhaps best described as Play-Doh meets baked brie. Yet its taste survives the setback of textural first impressions, thanks to piquant notes ripened by the grill.
Still, there’s a reason steady crowds pile into the New Town restaurant, and it’s not the slick interior festooned by semi-nudes or near-center location. Spálená street, after all, could use a good scrubbing.
No, it’s because Gott apparently knows his meat.
Pepper steak ordered medium-rare held a nice red center, pulled from the oven just as it slipped past rare. A sprinkle of pickled green peppercorns throws in occasional tart but timid pricks. Otherwise, a gentle seasoning hand allows the flavor of beef to step forward — sour, grassy undertones in this case, with very little heft. Still, it’s a juicy cut of meat.
Medallions of pork are surprisingly delicate. Thick and pink on the inside, seasoned sparingly, the white meat almost seems to melt. The character, though, is equally pale: subdued sweetness backed by a flutter of husky depth. One wishes the restaurant would purchase meat with denser marbling.
Grilled vegetables served alongside are more robust, riding between earthy eggplant, bittersweet red onions and bell peppers with a stinging edge, rent by sharp and bitter char marks.
Sage strikes rustic low notes in even-keeled chops of lamb. One piece was rather sinewy, but the other chops surrendered easily to a table knife. Once again, the kitchen relies on a simple rub to enliven natural flavors in the meat. It is served with a curiously shaded lime sauce (red instead of green) aggressive enough to bully tender lamb.
In the end, it’s a middling place — nothing really offensive. The kitchen only rises to the occasion when preparing staple meats. Starters can disappoint and the soundtrack can be annoying.
Unless, of course, you like a steady diet of Karel Gott.

Dave Faries can be reached at dfaries@praguepost.com


Other articles in Night & Day (17/10/2007):

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