Andělská křídla: Mere mortals

With a name like Andělská křídla (Angel Wings), a restaurant has a lot of marketing options. The most obvious one would of course be a sort of Hooters' knockoff.

Cheap, yes, but easy enough. Hire cute girls, outfit them with feathery angel wings, and serve up platters of decent chicken wings. The puns possible with this sort of business model would be endless!

Alas, the proprietors of Andělská křídla possess more tact than this writer, which is a shame, because an over-the-top kitschy pub wouldn't be such a bad thing, especially in a part of Vršovice that could use a little extra energy.

The Angel Wings only figure in as the name of one variety of chicken wings (the other, of course, being Devil Wings), and in the halfhearted décor of smallish, white feathery wings that hang from the ceiling. There's something a bit off about them.

"They look like pigeon wings," a member of our party said, hitting the proverbial nail on the head. Indeed, they are of that approximate size, although they thankfully lack that distinctive coloring of that bird's plumage. Then again, both the upstairs and downstairs of Andělská křídla allows smoking, so given some time, those tiny angel wings on the ceiling may one day turn the exact color of pigeon wings.

There is a curious part of the menu that could be taken in one of two ways. Dog lovers will probably find the dog menu adorable, with options like dog spaghetti for only 20 Kč. Another way to look at it, however, is with a bit of revulsion and nausea. After all, someone reading a menu is probably hungry, and being compelled to imagine what "dog spaghetti" entails might work against that.

We overcame our disgust and dutifully ordered both the Angel Wings and their seasoned nemesis, the Devil Wings. Our server kindly jumped at the chance to recommend a side order, one he thought was a good accompaniment. The menu was in English, however, so he struggled to find the word for a bit.

"French fries?" we guessed.

"No, not the french fries," he said.

"The baked potato with sour cream?"

"No, no, it is like a baked bread."

"The ... bagel?" we asked incredulously. There was, in fact, a bagel listed on the sides menu, a strange option.

"Yes that is it!" Normally we would have the sense not to order a bagel with our chicken wings, but the young man was so earnest, and the conversation had not been an easy one, so we agreed that yes, we would love a bagel with our chicken wings.

The bagel, was in fact, a sliced baguette, buttered and toasted. That it was not in fact a bagel did not change the fact that it was still a bad combination with our Angel Wings.

The Angel Wings were mild and largely flavorless beyond salt and paprika. I will resist any heaven, angel or religious puns while describing them. Suffice it to say they were woefully unworthy of being any restaurant's eponymous dish.

The Devil Wings were of course spicier, but not in any significant way. The kitchen has not taken the license one would assume is afforded with something named "Devil Wings." Really, at that point, aren't you allowed to make it hot enough to offend some people? You've named them after the devil: mankind's personification of pure evil and furthermore an inhabitant of a fiery, torturous underworld. If you believe in such a creature, know that he is really pissed off right now that these wings bear his name.

Blue cheese sauce accompanied both plates of wings, and though it was a very mild version, it was a nice touch, since the sauce is hardly served with wings in Prague.

A half corn on the cob was a nice extra with the wings, but was chewy and starchy, and taking a bite into it left your mouth feeling a bit gluey. French fries were altogether unimpressive, neither hot nor particularly fresh.

Because restaurant critics can be suckers for punishment, we ordered a hamburger, on the off-chance that we would stumble upon a tasty version. This was no better or no worse than 80 percent of hamburgers in Prague, which is to say it's not one to go out of your way for. The meat was dense, packed tightly and cooked through.

The restaurant does a much better job with its club sandwich, a towering stack of grilled chicken, bacon, lettuce and a healthy serving of mayonnaise. It was simple, but it worked, particularly the char flavor of the chicken breast.

Andělská křídla is not what we hoped it would be. But our expectations were perhaps too high, our imagination having run a little wild with the anticipation of what we imagined would be a temple to the buffalo-style chicken wing. When you get your head out of the clouds, however, Andělská křídla is a friendly and decent neighborhood bar and restaurant, and there is certainly nothing wrong with that.

Claire Compton can be reached at
ccompton@praguepost.com