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Here is a beautiful sight — a busy worker at a klobasa stand, the Czech’s mighty response to the pitiful American hot dog. These things are large and delicious, and I never, ever want to know what’s in them. You can choose to eat them in a soft bun, or plain on a paper plate, with a slice of chleba (bread) to sop up the grease and mustard.
Klobasa stands are ubiquitous — they dot the landscape like their hot dog cart counterparts in New York. There’s no sense in choosing one over another for reasons of flavor — they all taste the same, all kept in the same steam tables, served with the same pale mustard and optional pile of pickled cabbage.
Eating a klobasa is a humbling experience — they’re served on flat paper plates with no lip to curb the pool of mustard. Some variants are served with buns, German or American style, but the traditional Czech version is a flat piece of rye bread roughly the same texture as the plate. Biting into a klobasa is an invitation to squirt grease on your good white shirt, drip mustard on your tie. It’s possible that you’ll end up with caraway seeds stuck between your teeth. It somehow contains two main ingredients but can require three hands. Whether you’re an executive in a nearby office building, or a homeless person on a bench, the experience is the same — you can’t look cool while…
