Americans who think of Poland as run-down – full of rusting factories, smoggy cities and gloomy natives – are speechless when they step into Krakow’s vibrant main square, Gdansk’s lively streets or Warsaw’s colorful Old Town.
While parts of the country are still cleaning up the industrial mess left by the Soviets, Poland also has breathtaking medieval cities that show off its warm and welcoming people, dynamic history and striding-into-the-future optimism.
| At most milk bars in Poland, you won’t find an English menu. Every milk bar is a little different, but here’s the general procedure: Head to the counter, wait to be acknowledged and point to what you want. Two handy words are to (sounds like “toe” and means “that”) and i (pronounced “ee” and means “and”). My milk-bar dialogue usually goes like this:
Milk Bar Lady: Prosze? (which means “Can I help you, please?”). Me: To (while pointing) … i to (pointing again) … i to (pointing once more). It means, “That … and that … and that.” It’s not pretty, but it gets the job done, and a minute or two later, you’ll be chowing down with the locals. |
The Poles are a proud people, as moved by their spectacular failures as by their successes. They place a lot of importance on honor, and you’ll find fewer scams and con artists here than in other countries.
In a way, there are two Polands: lively cosmopolitan urban centers and hundreds of tiny farm villages in the countryside. City dwellers often talk about the “simple people” of Poland, those descended from generations of farmers, working the same plots for centuries and living an uncomplicated, traditional lifestyle. Spending time with this large contingent of old-fashioned, down-to-earth folks can be a great way to get a true sense of Eastern Europe’s history.
Eating at a bar mleczny (milk bar) is an essential Polish sightseeing experience. These super-cheap cafeterias, which you’ll see all over the country, are an incredibly inexpensive way to get a meal – and, with the right attitude, a fun cultural adventure.
In the communist era, the government subsidized the food at milk bars, allowing lowly workers to enjoy a meal out. The tradition continues, and today Poland still foots the bill for most of your milk-bar meal. Prices are astoundingly low – my bill usually comes to about $2 – and, while communist-era fare was less than lively, today’s milk-bar cuisine is quite tasty.
Milk bars offer many of Poland’s traditional favorites. Common items are delicious soups, a variety of cabbage-based salads, fried pork chops, pierogi (ravioli with various fillings) and pancakes.
At the milk bar, you’ll often see glasses of juice and, of course, milk, but most milk bars also stock bottles of water and Coke. Try a Polish pastry, especially the classic paczki, a glazed jelly doughnut typically filled with a wild-rose jam.
At milk bars, the service is aimed at locals. If the milk-bar lady asks you any questions, you have three options: nod stupidly until she just gives you something; repeat one of the things she just said (assuming she’s asked you to choose between two options, such as meat or cheese in your pierogi); or hope that a kindly English-speaking person in line will leap to your rescue.
If nothing else, ordering at a milk bar is a fiesta of gestures. Smiling seems to slightly extend the patience of milk-bar staffers.
Once your tray is all loaded up, pay the cashier (and do a double-take when you realize how cheap your bill is), then find a table. After the meal, it’s generally polite, if not expected, to bus your dishes.
And no, you don’t have to order milk.
Rick Steves of Edmonds (425-771-8303, www.ricksteves.com) is the author of 29 European travel guidebooks including “Europe Through the Back Door” (published by Avalon) and the host of the public television series “Rick Steves Europe,” airing on KCTS. See “Poland Rediscovered” at 7:30 p.m. Wednesday.
Talk to us
> Give us your news tips.
> Send us a letter to the editor.
> More Herald contact information.
