Review: Černý Kohout

The outskirts of Prague sometimes feel like a different world: panelák high-rises, sprawling parks alive with nature, crisp snow underfoot. It's a welcome escape to explore such areas, especially when you can trudge into a warm, wood-lined pub with a roaring fireplace afterward for a heartening meal.

One such place is Černý Kohout, a restaurant on the edge of the Prokopské údolí nature reserve in Prague 5, accessible by tram as well as the myriad trails that snake through the wooded park, which has its charms in winter as well as in more hospitable seasons.

Černý Kohout (The Black Rooster) resides in a farmhouse complex with an enchanting garden for the warmer months and party-friendly rooms that make it popular for weddings. Inside, the dining room is inviting, with sprawling, heavy wood tables and a manor-sized, brick-lined fireplace that the staff kept well-stoked on two recent visits, pumping out a fair heat and crackling ambience to the surrounding tables.

There's not much else in the area save for the park and a residential neighborhood leading up to the Poliklinika Barrandov tram stop, and the clientele was a mix of walkers and families. The restaurant is entirely smoking, however, save for the foyer, which is oddly marked as nonsmoking, despite there being no tables and a severe draft from the open door.

A downside to Černý Kohout - or, at least, for like-minded souls who after a brisk walk in the woods look forward to a refreshing pint - is that it only pours the disappointing Krušovice lager. But the atmosphere goes a long way toward making up for this, and it's a lovely place to hole up for an afternoon.

The kitchen serves big portions of Czech fare, with a menu that changed between two visits but offered a variety of local standards like pork and chicken schnitzel, pork knee, fried cheese, baked river trout, sausages and pickled hermelín cheese: solid, stick-to-your-ribs food that feels marginally more deserved after a bit of exercise and fresh air. On a first visit, they also had a quarter rooster on the menu, which proved a treat; on the second visit, however, only the whole bird could be ordered, and that only a day in advance. Rooster manages to taste somehow decadent and homey at the same time: gamier and richer than chicken with dark meat that tumbled off the bone, with a hearty red-wine gravy, roasted shallots and comforting mashed potatoes shot through with parsley.

A starter of potato soup a la Krkonoše was very warming. The bread bowl was piping hot and pillowy soft, making for good tearaway pieces to dunk. The soup itself held soft chunks of potato, carrot, forest mushrooms and onion, and was seasoned generously with pepper and thyme. The pickled hermelín was tart and soft, spreading easily onto slices of bread and filled in the center with a chili-garlic paste. Beer sausage was happily free of gristle, a length of smoky flavor in a snappy skin, and accompanied by pots of mustard and grated horseradish.

Baked pork knee was, as expected, gargantuan, and no matter how many times one has ordered a knuckle it never ceases to elicit the happy groans of a perceived challenge. This particular behemoth was a bit too fatty, however, requiring one to saw through an entire subcutaneaous layer of fat to reveal the tender meat below. The meat was tender and pink, and, presented on a chopping board along with mustard, horseradish, pickles, cocktail onions and peppers, presented a meal large enough to share.

Rabbit leg was equally tender, although the whole dish could have been warmer, as it was lukewarm upon arrival. Garlicky and dripping in a light jus, it was a good pairing with the oval-shaped dumplings, light potato ones that sponged up the gravy and went well with the side of fresh, wilted spinach.

The menu on the second visit touted Angus steaks in both 200 g and 300 g portions. While very tasty, however, the 200 g rib-eye was slightly oversalted and cooked to well-done, despite a request for medium. It had a nice char to the outside though, and was still very juicy, and hardly needed the side of wild-mushroom sauce ordered. A portion of boiled potatoes, however, was disappointingly cakey and dry, and went largely untouched.

The farmhouse Černý Kohout occupies is owned by the infamous former Prime Minister Stanislav Gross. He's known for having a particular eye for real estate, and this restaurant definitely has appeal for all seasons.

Fiona Gaze can be reached at
fgaze@praguepost.com