The Language of Food

“I have to sit like this,” Monica Smetana says, flinching into the sunlight. Her Czech accent comes through as she continues, “because of the, because of the win-doh.” Pushing her hair behind her ears, she adjusts her posture and finishes the thought. “When my mom and dad first saw this house, they thought ‘this is where it has to be.’ Being from Europe, they grew up with buildings being old.”

The restaurant Monica owns with her mother and sister sits in what used to be an old schoolhouse on Ute Highway. The only signs leading up to the brick building advertise farm fresh eggs for sale. Praha Restaurant and Bar is in the middle of nowhere, but its food has the reputation for being worldly.

Judy Smetana attests to that fact after saying she’s sitting in on the interview because her sister “doesn’t know how to brag.” “It’s why our customers just love coming here,” Judy says. “They just love good …”

“Gorgonzola and leak crusted pork tenderloin medallions!” Monica exclaims—a delayed answer to one of her most successful dishes. “I can’t remember because there are so many.”

“Oh! And the onion carbonara,” Judy says, rolling her eyes in pleasure. “That was to die for.” The two sisters reminisce about food with the adoration of gushing mothers. As Monica flips through pictures of her favorite dishes, she shows them off like photos of her 5-year-old twins. “Look at the bright colors. The height of the food, everything.” Food isn’t something Monica puts on a plate and rings a bell to. It’s what she researches on trips to Europe, cooks for her family and prepares for her “employees during employee dinners.”

I comment on how kind it is to cook for her staff on occasion. This leaves me confronted with the quieting raise of eyebrows. “No not sometimes,” Monica says. “Every day. Our parents felt like everybody should have a meal and be satisfied themselves. That way,” she adds with a knowing smile, “they’ll give excellent service.”

That service begins  in the kitchen where Monica encourages her staff with a simple phrase. “Mise en plece”: French for everything in its place. “I say if we have a good mise en plece, we’ll all be smiling at the end of the night.”

She might have learned the motto when studying at the Salzburg Hotel and Restaurant Management School in Austria where she worked with Peter Horak, a contemporary of Wolfgang Puck. Or maybe she picked it up as part of her frequent travels to Europe, discovering new trends in food. Either way, Monica’s accent speaks to her roots, and at Praha Restaurant, it translates into the food.