Balcony - Poznan, Poland

My big, fat Polish dinner

Poznan, Poland

Riding - Warsaw, Poland
Riding – Warsaw, Poland

It was a good introduction. I arrived in Poznan, Poland, by train from Berlin and after a day of travel originating at 3 am in Istanbul, Turkey, I needed food. Polish “milk bars” define no-frills eating, as if your high school cafeteria was redesigned without all that fancy decor. State-subsidized, they were intended cater to the less affluent, but may now be filled with a clientele of families, students and businesspeople. And they’re a backpacker’s dream come true.

When I walked in, I saw the chlodnik zupa (beetroot soup). Glowing bright pinkish-red against a starkwhite bowl, it almost looked fake. The soup was dotted with pieces of z jajkiem (hard-boiled egg) and dill. Bowls were on every table and conversations were halted as the neon-coloured liquid was practically inhaled. I couldn’t immediately recognize it or pronounce it from the menu on the wall, but I wanted it. And everything else people were eating. Pointing to a full table near the cash register, my ordering was brief: “Hello. That, please.” She knew exactly what I meant.

kotlet schabowy (breaded pork cutlet) the size of my head. A nest of cabbagesalatki (salad) with a bright vinegrette dressing. An entire field worth ofziemniaki (mashed potatoes) with a mushroom cream sauce and a side ofogorek kizony (dill cucumber). Rounded out with two scoops of lemon and strawberry lody (ice cream). The bill? About $3.75 US. Only a few hours in the country and I was in love.

The bill? About $3.75 US. Only a few hours in the country and I was in love.

This morning, after a walking tour of Poznan’s central square, I head to another milk bar near what appear to be government buildings. The bar is busy, but with university-aged people, dressed for classes. Leaning toward the counter to see what’s being served, I feel a tug on my backpack. Ready to throw punches in defense of my camera gear, I wheel around to find a familiar face. While walking from the train station to the hostel the night before, I had asked directions of a young guy in a car as he was turning into his driveway. “Did you find your hotel okay last night?” he asks.

Waiting II - Koln, Germany
Waiting II – Koln, Germany

Martin introduces himself and invites me over to his table. We pig out for what amounts to about $3. Offering to show me around Poznan, we head out in his tiny Mercedes (a model similar to the Smart Car, but not sold in North America) for a quick tour of places I never would otherwise visit. Our first stop is an upscale shopping mall. The building is more than a hundred years old, but its renovations are striking, giving it a bold art-deco style with exposed girders and rich red brick. Its contents are perfectly contemporary, with H&M, Benetton and other high-end retailers. We eat ice cream across from a sports bar showing an NBA basketball game.

The tour continues, driving around the city’s monuments and prominent vistas. It’s a great tour, but Martin, with English skills far better than most people I know in Indiana, still constantly apologizes for flaws in his vocabulary. Where did you learn your English, I inquire. “Where all young people in Poland learn it: The Cartoon Network.”

Share your thoughts