For
the last decade I've been all about world domination, wanting to
sample as many different cultures as humanely possible. Part of my
global takeover has led to a real interest in food from foreign
parts; a result of one of our many trips, has been a love of Polish
cuisine. Since visiting Krakow some years back, I'm all about Polish
food and have recently been trying a variety of Polish restaurants in
West Yorkshire's “City Of Dreams”, Bradford.
My
first stop was Balanga on Goodwin Street that began as a real leap
of faith and has since remained interesting due to its restrictive
time restraints and exceedingly cheap highly authentic menu. Although
grotty from the outside, Balanga has a genuine feel with billboards
in the toilets covered in Polish adverts, multi-lingual menus and bar
staff rather endearingly actively warning clientele they only serve
Polish food.
Several
Balanga food babies later, it was time for a change – if only to
locate somewhere that serves food after 7pm! Idly wandering the
streets of Bradford through a previously undiscovered gay quarter
with ex-Bradders colleagues, we stumbled across Ambrozja on Sunbridge
Road. At 7.30pm on a Friday night, Ambrozja was deserted but boasted low prices and food worth revisiting.
My
final Polish discovery was Staropolska
Restaurant on Manningham
Lane. Only recently opened, outside looked inviting but inside was
immediately off-putting with staff telling us on arrival there'd be a
party later, implying we might not want to stay. The entire menu was
in Polish with no translations, making ordering an interesting
experience. Pointing to several dishes on the menu we were told no
translation was possible or given dubious explanations that seemed to
solely entail staff members pointing to the stomach region. Even the
drinks were inaccessible or unrecognisable with a whole listed
section being unavailable and Western drinks
like “Bulmers” being listed as “Blumbers”.
Amazing
food and reasonable prices aside, dining in Staropolska was reminiscent of
eating in a foreign country. Even our apres-food walk around Hanover
Square felt like we were no longer in the UK with the current extreme
heat and entire families wearing tunics and trousers while playing
cricket in a central shared garden area.
Bradford
may not be the city of dreams but it sure is a place of extreme
cultures with entirely Polish speaking enclaves right next to
Indian/Pakistani communities, making such culinary adventures
possible a mere twenty minute train journey from home. Never in my
life have I felt so far from home, despite being so close to it.
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