I was checking out the South Broadway used book stores last Saturday in search of the Spectator essays by Joseph Addison and Richard Steele. (With success! I bought a one-volume edition published in London about 1873.) While one expects to find used book stores in a low-rent area, this section of South Broadway has succumbed to a virulent species of urban rot more characteristic of degraded parts of New York City or Los Angeles. The used book stores are interspersed among sleazy bars, tattoo parlors, and fetish shops. An energetic bulldozer operator could do a world of good here.
I noticed Sobo 151, a Czech restaurant, on the other side of the street and decided to give it a try. I walked in and discovered that Sobo 151 was a Czech Hockey Karaoke bar with pool tables and a small restaurant area. I took a seat near the mural of old Praha (Prague), the waitress brought me a menu, and I ordered a large bowl of sauerkraut soup on a whim. Surely any dish called sauerkraut soup would taste better than it sounded.
The soup, called by the more melodic name of Zelnacka in Czech, was a long time coming. It was clear that no great pot of soup was bubbling back in the kitchen, at the ready for a rush of Zelnacka lovers. I amused myself with watching European soccer on the television.
At last the waitress brought out the bowl of Zelnacka and three slices of brown Czech bread. The soup was based on a tomato broth -- like a red Manhattan clam chowder -- with generous chunks of sausage and potatoes. The sauerkraut served as chewy vegetable noodles. A dollop of sour cream was added as a topper.
I was delighted with the soup. It was the perfect hearty meal for a cool, rainy Saturday afternoon. Highly recommended.
