Corso Café: On the beaten path

In the quest to find a restaurant no one has reviewed, a food critic can sometimes lose her way. Most recently, this reviewer hauled two friends out into Prague 4-Nusle, on a hunch that a restaurant spied from the No. 11 tram would be something special.

It was not special. It was nothing more than an overpriced Činské bistro, serving gloppy plates of "Chinese food."

Disillusioned by an inability to find out-of-the-way gems, this reviewer then succumbed to convenience and decided to pay a visit to Corso Café, a small restaurant on the corner of náměstí Republiky and V Celnice. It is easy to find, it bears a solid aura of respectability and in fact turns out very good food. Wow, that was easy, wasn't it?

The space was filled previously by Yessi Café, a soup-and-sandwich shop that no doubt pulled in plenty of guests from the nearby Marriot and Hilton hotels. Corso Café has remodeled the space into a more upscale environment: High, arched brick ceilings painted off-white are illuminated by wiry, twinkling chandeliers. The décor is muted, but with simple touches like a large potted tree and cursive descriptions of dishes above an open kitchen and café counter. Don't linger too long on the wall menu, however, as it is decorative, as we were informed after trying to order the tuna burger. The "decorative" menu nevertheless shares about 90 percent of the same items with the actual menu.

A separate list of tapas is available in smaller or larger sizes, allowing diners to sample a bit of everything for a reasonable price. In this fashion, we tasted a country paté, which was uncharacteristically smooth but nevertheless sweet, creamy and mostly liver. Spanish cured sausage was sliced in awkwardly large pieces. It was satisfying in the way that all cured sausages are, but was unremarkable beyond that. A small portion of beef tartare was accompanied with toasted, not fried, bread and slowly roasted sweet garlic cloves that spread as easily as butter. The meat itself had been minced and ground and smashed into oblivion. It was beef paste, and it too, unfortunately, spread as easily as butter, which is certainly edible but completely joyless.

After this course, the waiter suggested our trio move to a larger table. Across the room was the smoking section, apparently, but it was a surprise to us. Despite the fact that the restaurant occupies a single room, we hadn't noticed smokers on the other side of it.

We grabbed our wine glasses - and Corso offers an affordable and varied list of wines by the glass, including a Temprenillo for 68 Kč - and sat down in a very comfortable banquette. The bad news first: a gnocchi dish with blue cheese, pecans, spinach and chicken was homey but a bit boring. Chicken on pasta is rarely a good pairing.

The meal had been pleasant until this point, but one of the dishes made it spectacular. Who would have thought pork tenderloin would be the dish of the night? Three large cuts were wrapped in bacon, topped with gooey, melting blue cheese atop a dewberry sauce, a bramble berry that tastes like a cross between a raspberry and blackberry. The combination of smoky bacon, salty blue cheese and tart berry sauce was impeccable. Cutting into the pork loin was a pleasant surprise, as the meat was pink in the middle and cooked mercifully to medium. The cut and the temperature made the meat unbelievably tender and flavorful, redeeming pork loin to those who have too often eaten its overcooked, bland version. Coarsely mashed potatoes made a perfect side laced with sweet, slow-cooked shallots.

The last Caesar salad The Prague Post reviewed was a total and utter bust. Corso Café's is that salad's very counterpart. The dressing made itself known from the outset; it was the very essence of egg yolk and anchovies, and was fabulous on top of the roasted red pepper strips, shavings of pecorino, small croutons, crisp strips of bacon and nicely grilled chicken on top of crunchy bright romaine. It was enough for a meal, and a satisfying one at that.

The dessert menu was standard: chocolate fondant; a walnut, apple and plum streusel; and house-made tiramisu. Well, standard except for the goat cheesecake. Imagine a cross between key-lime pie and cheesecake; creamy bright white, tart and not overly sweet on top of a crumb crust. Slightly saucy dried cranberries on the side and thin slivers of candied lemon on top added elegant and bright notes. This doesn't happen often with desserts, but the cake's strong clean flavors kept us from gobbling it up. Instead the slice was savored, slowly, until it was all gone. It may be the only time a cheesecake has been a palate cleanser. 

We had walked past Corso many times on our way to what we thought would be the glory that comes to restaurant critics who discover diamonds in the rough. But who needs glory when you can eat divine pork loin and goat cheesecake?

Claire Compton can be reached at
ccompton@praguepost.com