Food Glorious Food...

Heading out onto the streets of Zagreb, armed with a map from the hotel reception on which the receptionist had kindly highlighted our route towards the Old Town, the first thing that struck me was how quiet it was. This was around 10pm on a Saturday night: I am used to most cities buzzing at that time. I should say that I find most European cities buzzing at that time: our commercial and entertainment districts tend to be all higgledy-piggledy on top of one another, unlike North America where I've noticed it's a bit more segregated. I remember being astounded to discover that Michigan Avenue in Chicago shuts up shop (literally) at close of business hours - I would have expected it to be more like Oxford Street or Charing Cross Road, where, when the shops close, the bars, restaurants, clubs and crackdens open ;)

I was aware again during our spookily quiet walk of the fascinatingly varied architecture. I suppose, geographically, Croatia does rather straddle Western and Eastern Europe (...that would be Central Europe then...), and that is evident in the architecture. We guessed that there has been some sort of clean up campaign going on, as some buildings that were evidently old (going by the intricate carvings and craftsmanship) were quite startlingly clean - and right next to them would be a building that appeared to be of around the same age suffocating under centuries of dirt. Many bore sobering scars of the bombs of the mid 90s. It is hard to describe, exactly, but despite it's somewhat creepy quietness, the city felt very safe. There was lavishings of graffiti and a certain run down air (particularly in the side streets we passed) but yet it felt entirely benign.

After passing some gardens - that's another point, it smelled lovely! Possibly due to the proximity of the botanical gardens, and helped by the fact that with a population of less than a million, there just isn't the pollution to create that heady stink that you come to expect in cities, it was a pleasantly un-whiffy city overall - we came across a large square which the receptionist had circled on the map. When I say large, I really mean huge - it was about the size of a football field, and the couple of small fountains in the middle were dwarfed by the vacuous space around them. Here finally there were some signs of life - groups of kids, a few old people sipping coffee in cafes around the edge, trams trundling by... and no restaurants. Might I remind you that neither of us had eaten since I had a packed of peanuts at Heathrow, so with a touch of panic, we went in to one of the bars and asked if they were serving food. Nope. However, a very kind waitress beckoned for us to follow her. Mournfully gnawing on our hands, we obeyed.

She led us to a large black door next door to her bar - quite ornate, but with absolutely no sign outside to give any hint that it was any kind of commercial entrance. In other circumstances we might have been doubtful, but at this point, we were happy to cling on to the merest hope of food, so we followed her into a dimly lit hallway. The tiles were ceramic and there was a lively pattern in earth tones leading through the hallway to the shadowy stone staircase. We were a bit dubious about the old fashioned lift which creaked a bit ominously when our waitress pressed the call button, but luckily for everyone the door was locked, so our waitress directed us to climb to the third floor, and promised that there we would find sustenance. Well we did... ish. We climbed the two flights of stairs, exchanging looks that might have been of amusement, terror, or just hunger - and there we found to our utter amazement - a bustling restaurant! I don't tend to think that I would be quite so subtle when choosing the location of a restaurant, but it clearly wasn't hurting business at all as it was packed. So packed that they had no room for us. *sigh* No less than three waiters commiserated with us, and discussed excitedly amongst themselves where we might find dinner. Well, we assume that is what they were discussing at least, they said neither "do you speak English" nor "thank you" which is the only Croatian I have a hope of understanding, so they could have been discussing the weather or what sort of hats their mothers like to wear.

When we emerged back out onto the street, already beginning to wonder whether we had imagined that restaurant on the third floor, we found our waitress hovering anxiously by the door, "You don't like?" She enquired, and we assured her we liked very much but they were full. "Okay, please come with me." She took off at a pace back across the square and up a steep hill behind it. We were treated to a sudden close up view of the spectacular cathedral (which looks a little bit like Notre Dame) and then the waitress ushered us (with a helpful note of the name of the restaurant from her order pad) round the corner. We thanked her and entered what looked for all the world like a closed restaurant. By walking through the empty tables in an unlit room (bashing into a couple of the aforementioned empty tables) and into a corridor past the kitchen, we found ourselves on a terrace where there were people! Eating! Well two old men anyway! And a third old man playing eighties easy listening on a keyboard! It was just wonderful.

The starter that our lovely waiter (and fluent English speaker) Emil swiftly brought was possibly one of the most exquisite things I have ever tasted in my life (although let's face it, I was hardly fussy at that point.) It was a sort of savoury croissant, with a dip which seems to be traditional Croatian as we were then served it everywhere we ate - a sort of creamy ricotta with chives and garlic - oh I must stop describing the meal because I will start to eat the keyboard! Suffice to say it was wonderful - Emil chose for us and I must confess that I was pleasantly surprised at how yummy everything was. You don't usually think of Croatia as a gastronomic capital of Europe, but take it from me it should be. We were even more pleasantly surprised to discover that three courses, a couple of glasses of wine each and tea came to £36 between us. Clearly, we were going to eat like Kings in Croatia!