Novelty only goes so far

With ingredients like eye of newt, toe of frog, wool of bat and tongue of dog, folklore witches aren't exactly known for their cooking abilities. Any one-pot wonders they may concoct in those cauldrons of theirs are more than likely made for malevolent magical properties than for any standards of culinary excellence.

So it is with Prague's "first witches' restaurant," Simsalabim, which succeeds in its theme insofar as décor goes, as if every day were a prelude to Halloween. There are some themes, though, that shouldn't be extended to any self-respecting restaurant, and spookiness gets tiresome, not to mention pretty unappetizing.

Simsalabim does have a certain fun factor, and the food is passable if surprisingly forgettable for a menu that includes such rarities as kangaroo, crocodile, snake and camel. It's also a treat to drink the 14° Černá hora Kvasar honey beer, a particularly bewitching brew. But there's more emphasis on the atmosphere than the preparation and presentation of dishes, which for all their differences appeared to have been boiled in the same proverbial melting pot.

Simsalabim takes over the spot close to Betlemské náměstí recently vacated by Kardomom Klub, which was also a themed restaurant, featuring tasting menus of the ancient world. There must be something about the subterranean, brick-walled rooms that begs a theme, although the cozy space, complete with corner fireplace and heavy, twisted-wood furniture, could suffice on its own. Simsalabim's fake cobwebs, eerie lighting and taxidermied animals have at least found the perfect home.

The music grew tiresome: It veered from recordings of angry cats screeching to a version of "Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer" before settling on the sort of soundtrack you'd expect of a Renaissance fair. Appetizers started out well enough. Frog legs, two pairs for 90 Kč - a steal that would rile Kermit's cause - were delicate and lightly flavorful, the buttery amphibian meat tasting halfway between chicken and squid, and came with uneventful garlicked toast.

Another starter, Agate snails, was surprisingly good. Half a dozen of the giant African land snails came in a special holed plate, along with a tong to hold the shells while tackling the innards. Our waitress, who was friendly and earnest, if slightly nervous in her black pointy witch hat, bells and spider-web gloves, only offered a normal-sized fork, however. We asked for a smaller fork, and she brought one that did the job, apologizing profusely.

The meat inside was worth the hassle: What came out was bouncy and rich, a taste akin to that of mussels but without the fishy kick. A pesto spread added a nice touch to what was overall a decent starter.

A salad was disappointing. Iceberg lettuce (with leaves past their prime) came with cucumber, tomato, salty chicken, bagged croutons and covered in Parmesan, with no dressing but the balsamic vinegar on the table. It was bland and reminded me of years past, when most of the city's salad offerings were just as uninventive.

Several of the meat dishes were indistinguishable, as beef, kangaroo and ostrich all looked like the same well-done lump. And that's all you get for the menu price for most items: No sides or sauces are included, not even a garnish to brighten the plate. Potato sides tasted like fast-food offerings, and I suspect they had been frozen. The uniform fries and potato wedges were nicely salted but smacked more of pub grub than restaurant fare. And even with a plate like quotidian pork, adding a side pushed the price up to 200 Kč, which seemed steep.

Of the meats sampled, the ostrich, labeled "Emu" on the menu, stood out as memorable. The lean meat was tender and smoky, and a recommended (but not included) cranberry sauce complemented it very well. It seemed a safer bet than say, the camel or crocodile meat, as ostrich is farmed here.

"Abracadabra," pork tenderloin covered in a mustard and Feta sauce, was not as strange as I expected. The cheese's saltiness tempered the tang of the mustard, and the meat was tender and nicely pink on the inside. For the price, though, it didn't exactly dazzle.

Kangaroo steak looked almost identical to the ostrich, but was tough and chewy, and left a slightly unpleasant, gamey aftertaste. The green peppercorn sauce "recommended" for it was runny and pale, and added little to the dish.

The "Skeleton" plate, or pork ribs, solidified my disappointment. Two long ribs, glistening with what promised to be a beer-honey glaze, looked the part, but I would have preferred the ribs spare and more manageable. The glaze proved virtually undetectable, and I was left sawing off chunks of fat and pork that tasted just like that of a pork knee, especially when dipped in the fresh horseradish and mustard.  

Simsalabim has obviously put a lot of thought into the franchise - the original restaurant is in Plzeň. The décor works, if witchy is what you're after, and the service was chatty and polite, even giving us a complimentary shot of homemade apricot brandy. But novelty value only goes so far, and the concept seems stretched to cover the food, as well. Go for the brews, and don't expect too much from the cauldron.

Fiona Gaze can be reached at
fgaze@praguepost.com