Cafe Vitosha
Address: 1 Vassil Levski Blvd
Tel: 986 44 32
Open: Mon-Fri 8.00-24.00, Sat-Sun 10.00-24.00
Someone recently described it as the type of cafe that used to classify Bulgarian venues 15 years ago. Perhaps that is true; in any case, Cafe Vitosha is a comfortable, informal, somewhat, shall we say, retro joint still in its original retro state, that has its share of regulars, and also has an English menu.
The slightly wobbling green lettering on the signage out front, a border to the upper edge of its building space, gives rise to the question of its reputation (definitely not voguish) and working status (affirmative). And that is a good enough reason to enter, not to mention that establishments set just so on a corner have something winsome about them.
Do go in, and find chairs of a proper height around some rectangular tables for four or for two, separated from each other by wicker dividers that, with their three peaks, resemble cathedrals, but nothing so elaborate. At the back, past the two quadrilateral central piers, is a bar with stools and a reasonable amount of space to sit, particularly nice for two together, though it can be quite loud if the chosen seats are next to the espresso machine.
Mirrors hang about the dark wooden walls, interspersed with old metal adverts for various beneficial products. Inside, as a whole, it is rather gloomy, but gloomy without any of the bad connotations: the sufficient lighting and large windows that form much of the exterior walls do little to brighten up the cafe, due to the brown shades of the interior. It seems heavy. But the people are cheerful. And for being catty-cornered to NDK, the place maintains a local feel.
In fact, Cafe Vitosha reminds me of a traditional (read: not modernitsa) bistrot in France. Beers offered on draught might not live up to French expectations, but the atmosphere, the layout, le “zinc”, the customers who go and drink a coffee or a beer and read the paper or play crossword puzzles: this place will never figure among the 20 most beautiful art nouveau creations, because there is none such opus here, save the rhythm of the daily happenings and the coffee beans being ground.
Food is on offer, though this is more of a spot where one goes for drinks, and then ends up staying, and then becomes hungry and needs to eat. In any case, it does have a full menu offering salads and soups and things like French-fried potatoes, gyuveches (stews baked in a clay pot), pizzas, grill items, vegetarian offerings (aka, postna hrana) and some toasty sandwiches on square-shaped white bread. What I’ve had there has been good, nothing remarkable, but the vegetables in the salads are fresh, the soups made daily and having that seductive something typical of Bulgarian potages. The hot sandwiches are particularly homely, and, as such, ideal to accompany a run of beers.
Portions tend to be modest, but the prices are, too. The most expensive food offered (a salad!) is about six leva.
While I have never ordered from the sweets section of the menu, the assortment of crepes and waffles (savoury or sugary) and cakes and ice creams appears popular at other tables.
Tea is nice when the weather turns cool, and comes in a decent-sized mug with a slice of lemon on the side. Otherwise, there is a range of coffees and fancier such options, beers imported and domestic (Zagorka is available on draught, at 1.10 leva for 330ml and 1.40 for a half litre), hard alcohols, and wines by the bottle or the glass.
The two employees, usually a waitress and a barwoman, keep on top of orders, filling them with a pleasant mien and willing attitude. Items come relatively quickly, though not always at the same time, particularly when it comes to food. As a side note, you can get food to go.
The pop music with an electronic influence that is piped through the speakers, on rare occasions, can be turned up a notch too loud, but overall, Cafe Vitosha maintains its calmness and its relaxed pace, which makes it just the type of place for an afternoon spent writing letters in peace, or an an
