So you think that schnitty is the bomb?
With a lot more live music coming up at O’Connor’s Polish Club (and with me living just a couple of blocks away) I chanced the restaurant last night.
The White Eagle Polish Club (or “The Polo” to the hip) is a strange building. Completed on the 500th birthday of Copernicus, the 70’s era building manages to be grand and claustrophobic at the same time. (Perhaps most notably the men’s bogs with the 30 foot high ceiling).
The restaurant appears to have been transplanted from an older building still.
The menus are encased in vinyl and stacked neatly next to the ordering window.
Orders are taken slowly and inscribed with pencil into a book.
There are no numbers, or pagers. You, and your order, are remembered.
And then you wait.
Fortunately the bar is stocked with an astounding array of Polish beers and (for the truly brave) vodka. From the bar area one can hear the music from the function room quite comfortably.
Having heard hushed tales of the legendary pork knuckle I decided to give that a go for $23.
As it’s brought out of the kitchen on a silverish platter your heart might sink, thoughts might go through your head like “Am I really going to eat all that?”
It is tasty though. And served with lashings of mustard, horseradish, and some sort of beetroot relish.
As a display of bravado it stands proudly with the dangerous polish beers the bar serves.
In a world of ever more homogenised bistro fare it’s great to see something truly out of the ordinary.
(As a note on scale in the picture the beer bottle is a 600ml, not a 330.)