Marketa Stastna

Chocolate covered secret

Just at the foot of Prague's famed "Lover's Hill" lies an inconspicuous little patisserie shop. Or rather, should we say, cukrárna, for that more fully describes its feeling, its smells and its warmth. It's unpretentious and honest. It's one of hundreds in the city. But this one is special. As soon as you walk in, you are greeted with the sweet smell of traditional Czech pastries. These are unlike ones you're likely to encounter anywhere else. They have peculiar names like little coffins or little windmills. Now, imagine yourself sitting there. You lift your foot over the small step that's so insignifcant and unexpected that it earns itself a little handwritten caution sign. You sit at a small table, the feet of which are supported with a bent cardboard beer coaster to prevent any further wobbling and your large window offers you a view of a tram track. Once in a while you will see the number 22 tram pass by. This tram provides unequivocally the most soul quenching tour of the city. You sip your Viennese coffee and nibble on a fresh crepe. This charming house has housed a number of businesses from a soapery to a wine cellar. But perhaps had things turned out a bit differently than they did, this little pastry shop would've gained the kind of global recognition it deserved. Perhaps. You can choose to believe the story that awaits you in the next several parapraphs, or you can choose to close the proverbial arched window shutters, sweep crumbs with the palm of your right hand into your left, leave the cukrárna, hop on the 22 and return to your reality. But I urge you to believe.