Recently we signed the lease on the ground floor of Bratislava’s newest underground music club: Padá Omietka. The name means “Falling Plaster” in Slovak.
A few years ago many of the ornate buildings in the city were in a state of disrepair and were covered in signs warning of falling plaster; these somewhat limited the insurance liability of the building owners should pedestrians be hit by a piece of early 20th century facade. There aren’t as many as when I first moved here, but you still see the odd one affixed to an ornate mansion. Such signs serve as free advertising for us, and give us instant brand recognition with any Slovak person who hears the name.
We’ve been operating a late bar and sometimes a nightclub in the basement for some months now. We’ve been experimenting with various events in that time. To be honest, it has sometimes been a drag on the operations of The International, our flagship brand, but now we’re making moves to turn this new bar into the economic engine that’s going to propel us forward.
Without getting too much into the weeds of Slovak vegan politics, it seems like it’s going to boil down to whether we want whoever has the kitchen to have dreadlocks and piercings or not
There were several factors working against us until now, chief among them being that to access this club you had to walk through a functioning Slovak restaurant. And the lack of a sign on the street. We were too hidden. But the restaurant has now vacated the upstairs, which leaves us with much more space to work with, a new bar and, most terrifyingly, a kitchen.
‘I know nothing about running a kitchen . . . it looks like absolute hell – tiring, time consuming and extremely risky’
‘Learning Gaeilge is a true challenge’
The Italian job: In Dubai, you eat on the go. In Tuscany? Lunch is two hours minimum, and you savour every bite
An Irish businessman in Singapore: ‘You’ll get a year in jail if you are in a drunken brawl, so people don’t step out of line’
I know nothing about running a kitchen. I know enough from friends in the business and from watching Gordon Ramsay’s Kitchen Nightmares that it looks like absolute hell – tiring, time consuming and extremely risky.
We’re not looking for that kind of stress in our lives. Our expertise lies in having a room with stuff happening in it that people come and buy drinks in. So we’re opting for a different tack with the kitchen – we’re going to sublet it. Someone operates the kitchen, pays a flat rate for it, another bit for energy and then keeps the take from food – they can even sell food via delivery apps.
So we offset our monthly rent, some enterprising chef tries out their dream, and customers can have a munch. Everyone wins. That said, we are now entering an interesting situation after putting the word about the kitchen out: we’ve been approached by a few potential suitors for it.
First was an English gentleman, who is the associate of a Slovak sausage maker. People from Ireland and Britain struggle with accessing our style of sausages and rashers here. The spices just aren’t right; if you order a full Irish or full English breakfast in Slovakia, you’re most likely getting hot dogs with your eggs and beans. So on top of turning the kitchen into a sausage-making facility, they would also offer customers British/Irish-style breakfasts. We would probably be the only place in Slovakia where you’d get a really authentic one.
[ How Slovakia’s poisonous politics left prime minister fighting for his lifeOpens in new window ]
A problem with a strictly meat-based place is the clientele we intend to serve in this bar. We have teamed up with people behind Koncerty Na Garazach (Concerts at the Garages). During the warm half of the year, these guys run concerts of many genres, but especially those of an underground variety. Hard-core punk, thrash metal, grindcore, hip-hop. Bands from Europe, Asia, South America. And, as you might guess, a lot of the crowd that follows them are vegan.
So we have decided to walk down the grassy path of veganism. But veganism is a broad church. Without getting too much into the weeds of Slovak vegan politics, it seems like it’s going to boil down to whether we want whoever has the kitchen to have dreadlocks and piercings or not.
The Slovak vegan offering would most likely take the form of veganised Slovak dishes prepared en masse for the daily lunch rush. Restaurants here typically serve a set daily menu for between €7 and €10, offering a soup, a small drink and a choice of two mains. Sheep cheese and bacon gnocchi, duck leg with grease pancakes, chicken or pork schnitzel, and breaded deep-fried cheese are all typical offerings.
I am not sure how you make a duck leg vegan, but I’m sure they’ll make it work.
- Oscar Brophy is from Ballyheigue, Co Kerry. He has lived in Bratislava, Slovakia since 2016. You can follow Oscar Brophy on Instagram and Twitter (@brophyst) and read his previous Irish Times Abroad article here
- If you live overseas and would like to share your experience with Irish Times Abroad, email abroad@irishtimes.com with a little information about you and what you do
- Sign up to The Irish Times Abroad newsletter for Irish-connected people around the world. Here you’ll find readers’ stories of their lives overseas, plus news, business, sports, opinion, culture and lifestyle journalism relevant to Irish people around the world
