Smažený sýr is Czech for fried cheese. I've been told that this little fast-food gem is perfect for an on-the-go snack, a 2 a.m. beer soaker-uper, and, in my opinion, an excellent alternative to those nasty sausages they sell in Old Town Square. I suppose you could liken Smažený sýr to an American fried mozzarella stick, but this just goes so far beyond that. Czech fried cheese is served in the form of a patty (that one might choose to slather with ketchup), and it rests between a hamburger bun. This is not gourmet, people, but somehow (even knowing that this cannot possibly be real cheese) it feels like a special treat as you rip off the first bite and watch the trail of melty mozzarella connect your mouth to the rest of the bun.
Attention buyers: Count your change. I was intentionally shortchanged 50 crown at a Smažený sýr stand. I counted the change that the cheese lady handed me and knew that something was off. Being slow at math and hesitant that it might be my mistake I simply stood there, frowning, looking from my left hand full of bills and my open right palm full of change, wondering what had happened. After several confused glances back and forth the cheese lady swiped the fanned out 50 in my left hand and exchanged it with a 100. Now the math made sense. The odd part about it was that the woman, rather than assuming a stunned, apologetic attitude, looked pissed off and disappointed that I'd caught her "error". She said nothing but glared at us as we walked away from the stand.
In addition to cheap fried cheese, though, there's also regular cheese in the Czech Republic, which we sampled as we strolled down the cobblestone streets. Prague is no Paris when it comes to cheese, but the quaint shop across the street from us was enough to satisfy our palates. Giant cheese wheels occupied the space below the shelves, which were all lined with smaller wheels, most of which had been already half sliced. I managed to snap a few shots before the lady who worked there told me photos aren't allowed.
We bought two different types of cheese and nibbled on the slices like mice as we walked through the city.
Attention buyers: Count your change. I was intentionally shortchanged 50 crown at a Smažený sýr stand. I counted the change that the cheese lady handed me and knew that something was off. Being slow at math and hesitant that it might be my mistake I simply stood there, frowning, looking from my left hand full of bills and my open right palm full of change, wondering what had happened. After several confused glances back and forth the cheese lady swiped the fanned out 50 in my left hand and exchanged it with a 100. Now the math made sense. The odd part about it was that the woman, rather than assuming a stunned, apologetic attitude, looked pissed off and disappointed that I'd caught her "error". She said nothing but glared at us as we walked away from the stand.
In addition to cheap fried cheese, though, there's also regular cheese in the Czech Republic, which we sampled as we strolled down the cobblestone streets. Prague is no Paris when it comes to cheese, but the quaint shop across the street from us was enough to satisfy our palates. Giant cheese wheels occupied the space below the shelves, which were all lined with smaller wheels, most of which had been already half sliced. I managed to snap a few shots before the lady who worked there told me photos aren't allowed.
We bought two different types of cheese and nibbled on the slices like mice as we walked through the city.