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My new favorite drink is the Flirtini, as it is made at the Mánesova location of Bar and Books. According to wikipedia, the drink was popularized by Sex and the City and is made up of vodka, pineapple juice and champagne. But I utterly detest vodka. Fortunately for me, the Bar and Books version is Seagram’s gin shaken with Cointreau, muddled pineapple and pineapple juice, with a champagne (okay, this is Europe, with appellation controllée, so it’s actually Prosecco) float.

Seriously yummy.

I’ve tried their Chelsea Rose, too, which is described as Hendrick’s gin, raspberry purée, apple juice and elderflower cordial. Sounded interesting, but I didn’t care for that one all that much. I found it thin and bland.

But the Flirtinis will keep me coming back. Well, and the staff, too: they’re way nice, too.

For no particular reason, I took some pictures as I was crossing Most Legií on my way home from Mass this evening.

This one is looking downstream towards Vyšehrad:

That "swan" in the lower left is actually a paddle boat:

You rent paddle boats at Slovanský Ostrov:

There are locks on the Vltava, I guess to help boats come up river?

Looking over to Prague Castle:

Looking over in the direction of Staroměstské náměstí:

And last, but not least, a lamppost, just because I liked it:

Dogs are tolerated just about everywhere in Prague, including on public transit and in shops and restaurants. A week or so ago, I watched a woman share her vepřový řízek (pork schnitzel) with her lap dog at a fairly upscale restaurant.

They’re amazingly well-behaved, too, I must say. They don’t bark much (and if you hear a barking dog, it’s almost always a puppy still being trained), and they seldom fight with other dogs. Czechs obviously put a good deal of effort into training their dogs. This afternoon, I watched as a woman walking her (leashless) dog set down her tote bag. I was too far away to be able to tell if the woman actually gave her dog an order or not, but the dog very promptly and daintily hopped into the bag and sat and watched its surroundings alertly as the woman picked up the bag and continued down the street. The woman crossed the street, set the bag down again, the dog hopped out, and they continued on their way. I have no idea what that whole bag thing was about, but I was impressed by the dog’s prompt reaction.

With all the dogs in Prague, you would expect dog droppings to be an issue, and indeed, when I first arrived, it was necessary to watch your step. In an attempt to lessen the problem, the City provides bags for the dog owners:

While I frequently see people picking up after their animals, though, I can’t say that I’ve ever seen anyone actually use these bags.

Prague recently implemented stricter litter laws, including a requirement to pick up after your pets, and I surprised to see that it really has made a difference.

Socks with sandals are a very common combination in Prague: indeed, a lot of Czech men appear to own only sandals as indoor footwear. One of the signs of summer here is when you start to see Czech men wearing their sandals without socks.

However, and this is going to sound seriously sexist of me, while I have become quite accustomed to men sporting this combination, I still think it’s a sign of something gone terribly, terribly wrong when women do the same thing.

So, I went out to dinner this evening, to one of my preferred restaurants, U Básníka Pánve. I ordered one of my favorites, the boar goulash. In the mood for a green veggie to go with it, I also ordered a side of … wait for it … steamed broccoli!

What? You aren’t shocked? The waiter was. "But, the goulash comes with dumplings!" "Yes, I know." "So, you want the broccoli instead of dumplings?" "No, I just want a green vegetable." "But no soup or salad?" "No, that will be all." So away he went, shaking his head at the strange American.

Maybe if I had ordered a side of red cabbage, it would have gone over better. As it is, I’m left to wonder if goulash with broccoli on the side is really that disturbing to Czech sensibilities. I have ordered broccoli at this restaurant before, though I don’t remember whether or not I’ve ever done so with the goulash.

Both the goulash and the broccoli were fine, so at least the kitchen wasn’t too offended.

The menu, incidentally, contains some of really enchanting examples of quirky translation:

• It took me a while to figure out that the "Lukul shrimps" are meant to be "Local shrimp" (although I’m still not certain where local shrimp could possibly be coming from).
• The Moravian goose liver is "nifty".
• Duck breast on torn lettuce with golden pear, walnuts and fig jam is "amazingly marinated".
• The Maravian sour soup with home-made sausages and smoked knee (sic) is "smoothed with ripened cream", not topped with sour cream.
• "Crunchy chick" is undoubtedly better than it sounds (it is described as a chicken breast marinated in Argentinean spices and stuffed with dry ham, cream cheese, coated with sweet corn flakes and almonds).
• The home-made chocolate cake with forest fruits and whipped cream is "bombastic", while the strawberry and banana fondue with chocolate and Baileys is "amorous".