Restaurants

BABA was one of the most refreshing and genuinely fun meals I've had in a long time. The room has a cool seventies vibe, and the whole place radiates confidence and personality — this is a kitchen that clearly enjoys itself, and it's contagious.

What floored me is chef Beata Śniechowska's ability to turn the classic Polish repertoire completely on its head. The high point was the barszcz, served in an utterly clear, dashi-inflected version with enormous depth — a beetroot soup rebuilt from first principles without losing a gram of what makes it barszcz. Her inventive herring worked the same trick.

And then there are the cocktails, made at a level that matches the best speakeasy bars. Very few restaurants get the kitchen and the bar this right at the same time.

Walking into IDA is like stepping into a small, secret oasis. Low light, a low hum of conversation, and a direct line of sight into the open kitchen where the cooks work with real focus.

I had the pierogi with mushrooms and a perfectly cooked duck breast. Both plates were remarkably beautiful — but never at the expense of the deep, full flavour the Polish ingredients bring. That balance is harder than it looks. Plenty of kitchens plating this precisely lose the taste somewhere on the way to the pass; this one doesn't.

The sommelier hit it exactly right with a superb natural wine, and the warm, intimate service made you want to stay in your seat all evening. That's the real test, and IDA passes it.

The view alone would justify the trip, but the food holds exactly the same height. I sat on the outdoor terrace facing the enormous multimedia fountain at Centennial Hall — a genuinely unique setting, and one that a lesser kitchen would have coasted on.

This one doesn't. It strikes a precise balance between southern and central European cooking. The fish was beautifully handled and the veal stayed juicy, both plated with real accuracy.

The service was so professional and attentive that you end up feeling like a guest of honour rather than a customer — and the bill was surprisingly reasonable for the level of the experience. That combination is the whole point of a Bib Gourmand.

Młoda Polska delivers exactly what is missing from many modern concepts: a genuine soul and a vibrant sense of place. It sits right on Plac Solny, and there's quiet piano music running under the room all evening that gives the whole thing a touch of nostalgia. You instantly feel connected to the energy of it.

The kitchen handles the balance between traditional comfort and modern refinement with great confidence. The green asparagus with a rich, glossy hollandaise was fresh and absolutely perfect. The same level of precision went into the cod, which was flawlessly cooked and beautifully balanced. It is comfort food elevated to a high technical standard.

On a second visit I went the other direction entirely and ordered the schabowy. It arrived gigantic, crisp, and fried in lard to the exact point it should be, followed by a creamy, powerful soup. Filling, informal and outrageously good — proof the kitchen can do refinement and full-blown comfort with equal conviction.

The liquid side of the menu deserves its own praise. The Espresso Martinis were excellent, and their homemade plum shots added a brilliant, authentic touch to the evening.

The service was professional, warm, and friendly throughout the night. They maintained a great rhythm right up until the very end, where our dessert order was unfortunately forgotten in the shuffle. But in a place with this much nerve and hospitality, a minor slip is easily forgiven.

A true gem, and the phrase is earned. The tapas are done properly — plate after plate arriving at the right pace, all of it good, in a room that's cosy without trying to be anything more than that.

But what lifts it above a nice dinner is the staff. Friendly is easy; genuinely attentive is not. They noticed things, they timed things, and they made the evening rather than simply serving it.

Which is the thing I keep coming back to on this site. The cooking in Wrocław is reliably good almost everywhere. What separates a fine meal from one you talk about afterwards is nearly always the people — and Mercado has the people.

Everything about this visit was, simply, perfect. The setting does a lot of the work — you sit at the marina with the water in front of you, and the room has a calm that almost no breakfast place ever manages.

But it isn't coasting on the location. The breakfast was delicious and, more to the point, thoughtfully prepared — someone in that kitchen is paying real attention at eight in the morning, which is rarer than it ought to be.

Welcoming from the moment we arrived, and unhurried the whole way through. Wrocław now has two breakfasts worth setting an alarm for: this one and Dinette. They're nothing alike, and you should do both.

Without question the most romantic evening of the trip. We sat on the deck, which more or less floats above the Oder, with a spectacular panorama across to the lit-up university on the far bank. It is a hard setting to compete with, and the kitchen doesn't try — it simply matches it.

The cooking is classic fine dining at the top of its class. Completely fresh fish, and a beef tenderloin so tender it barely needed the knife, both cooked exactly to the point.

The service was classic, courteous and highly attentive without ever going stiff — the difference between being looked after and being managed. A completely magical evening by the water.

Dinette in Wrocław delivers breakfast on a level you rarely come across. Beautiful interior, genuinely friendly service, and dishes that are well thought-out and prepared with real care. It's clear that here, breakfast is treated as a discipline — ambitious, consistent, and very cool.

The only thing we missed was a classic Bloody Mary on the menu. With that addition, Dinette could easily compete with the best breakfast spots in London, New York, and Bangkok.

Thank you for a wonderful visit — we will be back.

The perfect relaxed neighbourhood bistro. The mood is informal and you feel welcome the moment you walk in — no ceremony, no performance, which after a week of ambitious rooms is exactly the point.

I went with the sharing-plates approach: a selection of excellent charcuterie from local producers, their own crisp home-baked bread, and a bisque dense with flavour.

It's the obvious place to explore good wine without any nonsense. The staff let me taste a few different bottles before I committed — a small thing that almost nowhere bothers to do, and it changes the whole evening. An unaffected, lovely night built on good taste and good company.

The ambition is obvious the moment you sit down, and the kitchen actually delivers on that promise. The food is there 100%. The tartare is beautifully executed, and the cod was flawless — perfectly cooked and precisely seasoned. Even the simple rhubarb dessert was technically spot-on.

But while the kitchen delivers, a great dinner requires choreography, and that is where the rhythm completely slipped. The staff were sweet, but the execution was messy. Our pre-dinner cocktails arrived after the food, the wine was delayed, and they missed every opportunity to guide us through proper pairings.

This friction in the service is exactly what breaks the illusion of the space. You sit there with a distinct gut feeling that a long line of specialists has engineered every square inch on paper, yet completely forgot the human element. Visually everything is sharp, but it lacks a genuine sense of place. Instead of a living, breathing restaurant, it feels like sitting in a beautiful movie set — a polished corporate template that looks perfect on camera but feels entirely empty.