Giving in to Gluttony at Prague’s Christmas Markets

There are foods in this world that attack. Almost aggressively. As though seeking revenge on he who dare to dine upon them. 

One is Chinese soup noodle. Bite unknowingly into this doughy cauldron of liquid lava and your tongue will hold a grudge for years. 

Another is papriková klobása—paprika sausage, a staple at many of the Christmas markets scattered about Prague every December. A grill-man delivers this delicacy hot off the coals and wrapped in a fresh hoagie roll. It’s delicious. Delectable. Love these things. One of the reasons I’m so glad Prague’s Christmas markets exist. 

But careful with that first bite. It’s a doozy. 

Pierce the skin with your teeth, and like a flamethrower bent on hot justice, the sausage ejects molten juices that melt the roof of your mouth. And when the only beverage at hand is hot, mulled wine…well, no succor is to be had. 

Then again: No pain, no gain. 

Despite the risk, I cannot stay away from papriková klobása at this time of year. For sure, I could find one for sale in any pub at any other time of year. Not like sausage is a rarity in this part of the world. But just as there’s a difference between slurping down a glass of eggnog in June vs. December, there is a distinction in grabbing a papriková klobása for lunch or dinner any other time of year vs. the last weeks before Christmas. 

The markets are festive. You stand in line as grill smoke envelopes you in a fog of sweet and earthy meatiness on a cold and snowy day, an olfactory amuse bouche while you await your turn to order.

Watching the grill-man slice open the hoagie meant for you…

Watching him place within it your sausage, as though he’s tucking a child into a pillowy bed on a cold winter’s night…

Stepping aside to the condiment stand to spread a bit of German mustardy love atop your sausage…

And taking that first bite, knowing that a pressure jet of boiling juice is about to peel the skin off the top of your mouth.

Now that’s Christmas!

Once done, you’re still going to be hungry, if only because it’s Christmas market time and you have determined that you will eat everything in one go because you’re worried that you might not make it back to the market this season because of all kinds of other obligations.

That’s a lie, of course. You will make it back…you know you will.

But in that moment between “should I or should I not gorge myself on more food,” you always err on the side of gorging because there, just by the 14th century city hall, is the guy selling Old Prague Ham (roasting on an open spit) and halušky, a potato gnocchi kinda dish mixed with sweet cabbage and bits of chopped up ham. Deeee-lish!

You cannot—must not!—pass up this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity (assuming lifetimes are measured in the seconds in which your brain and your taste buds are debating a question that your brain knows it’s going to lose).

After that, you absolutely know you’re wandering over to the lady selling fluffy gingerbread cookies, and the old man next to her stall who has vats of horká medovina—hot mead, a honey wine.

And if you’re still hungry—and you absolutely are not, which means you will still order more food anyway—you find the decidedly non-Mexican chap who’s selling churros with a cup of gooey caramel that are pretty darn close to the churros you’ve had on the streets of Mexico.

Then you go home.

Sated and satisfied.

Only to wake up the next day and ask your wife if we can go back to the Old Town Christmas market for lunch because you’re really craving papriková klobása.

That, for me, will always be Christmas in Prague.

Hope you have a wonderful Christmas meal yourself.