Burgers as bait

Like a moth to the flame, I was pulled in by a simple sign that advertised hamburger specials. Never mind it was in tourist-trap central, on the corner of Malostranské náměstí. Never mind that some of these hamburger specials - like the Detroit hamburger and the Espresso hamburger - didn't even sound all that appetizing. Never mind that every other item on U Schnellů's menu was a stock item from the Ye Olde Bohemian menu trotted out on the busiest streets downtown.

The specials, outlined on a chalkboard, had caught my eye each time I passed the restaurant on the No. 22 tram between Malostranské náměstí and Malostranská.

I wanted a surprise, and I wanted to taste all those choices, so gluttony hit the override button in my brain and clearheaded logic lost out. As is often the case when our vices are freed from the restraints of better judgment, this visit ended in regret. So here is my confession: I thought the crazy-sounding burger specials at a Czech restaurant would be good, and I ordered three of them at once. I enticed loved ones to accompany me, and we spent time and money on terrible hamburgers. In hindsight, there was no way they were going to be good.

There is truly nothing remarkable about the rest of U Schnellů's menu, which is translated into English, Russian and German, the multilingual format that is of course one big dining red flag in itself. They serve pickled hermelín, fried camembert, sausages, cold ham platters, pork knuckle, trout ? You get the gist. To keep this review from being monopolized by hamburgers, we ordered fried mushrooms stuffed with blue cheese and a Caprese salad.

The staff is sweet, young and competent. Service is unremarkable, save for the fact it was neither surly nor slow, a minimum that unfortunately qualifies for commendation in central Prague restaurants.

Our appetizers arrived quickly. The dark brown mushroom balls rolled precariously on an undersized plate, while the Caprese salad sprawled on an oversized platter. The mushrooms were awkward to cut, but once their hard shells were cracked they splintered easily, as undercooked mushrooms do.

Caprese salad continues its sad march into culinary cliché, a dish we'll explain to future generations was first trendy, and then tired, and then died a slow and public death on menus worldwide. This version did nothing for the salad's posterity. The tomatoes were edible but couldn't boost the grocery-store-quality mozzarella. Jarred pesto stood in for basil, but then again, the herb is not in season.

But our hope had been pinned on the burgers, like a wilted corsage on a backup prom date. We settled on three: the Detroit, the Chipotle and the Espresso. After some deliberation, we also decided on a pork barbecue sandwich.

The burgers were ordered medium-rare, and the sweet waitress repeated the request, making sure she got it right, while a thought bubble formed unseen over her head: fat chance. The highly ground patties were all well-done. Their edges were crispy, most likely from pan-frying, and the resultant grease was the only moisture the crumbly hamburger buns had seen for some time. Lettuce, tomato and onion came on the side, along with thin, frozen French fries that tasted old.

As for the add-ons that gave each hamburger its personality, they seem to have been pulled out of a hat. My research has been limited, I'll admit, but I cannot find the correlation between the city of Detroit and blue cheese and Worcestershire sauce. Even if there is one, that is beside the point, because the point is this: It didn't taste good.

Espresso burgers are something the average diner has probably not encountered, most likely because the flavor combination doesn't really work. There was sugar coating the meat patty; not a lot, but enough to make you think, "Hey, this sugar on my meat tastes weird."

Of all the options, the Chipotle burger was the best. Canned chipotles in adobo sauce had been sliced and laid atop the meat, adding a nice smoky heat. But the most important components, the meat and the bun, couldn't add up to a good hamburger, anyway.

The pulled pork BBQ sandwich never really had a chance. It wasn't barbecued, just cooked until it pulled apart and slathered with bottled, super-sweet barbecue sauce, another mediocre dish that was never actually meant to live up to its description.

In another bizarre order that confirmed that U Schnellů seems to be using American food names to lure in homesick tourists, "apple pie" was in fact a facade for apple strudel.

Was it deliberate subterfuge? Maybe, maybe not. Am I a sucker? When it comes to hamburgers, always.

Claire Compton can be reached at
ccompton@praguepost.com