Stupavská Hodovňa

The restaurant & setting. This time Martin heads just outside Bratislava, to the town of Stupava, drawn by a restaurant called Hodovňa, which means "the feast hall". „When you hear feast hall, you'd think you eat well there, but in that case they probably wouldn't have called me," he muses at the very start. For years the locals knew the place under the name Umelónka, and it drags behind it the bad reputation of a venue used for discos and parties. The restaurant itself doesn't look bad, it's quite pleasantly furnished, yet at lunchtime it sits empty.

The people. The place was taken over three months ago by Sergej, a 35-year-old entrepreneur who actually makes his living in transport and took on the restaurant more or less for the sake of his girlfriend Viktória. She comes from hospitality and works here as manager and waitress at once, because they're short of staff, and she is only 24. Sergej is hardly ever here, busy with his other company, and leaves the whole operation to Viktória. The cooking is done by the women, among them Mrs Lidka with her famous red sauce „on everything" and Dominika, while waiter Alex helps on the floor and claims experience as a floor manager.

Why they called Martin. Sergej put it bluntly: „I'm just helpless." Since taking over the place he's about five thousand euros in the red every month, the afternoons are completely dead, and people eat lunch and leave at once. Viktória simply expects help from Martin, advice on what to do better, because she sees this as the last chance to get the place going before it closes for good.

The first visit. Martin orders both soups and every main on the menu. The cauliflower soup is over-salted, its dumplings slimy and undercooked because he can taste raw flour on his tongue, while the goulash soup is pleasant and well seasoned. With the mains it falls apart: courgette baked in a sauce of ketchup and tomato paste tastes like tomato soup, the „spaghetti" is really overcooked noodles swimming in oil, sprinkled with cheap cheese that melts into a plasticine mass, and the tuna comes from a tin. „I'd never come here again in my life, because it was horrendous," Martin sums up his impression right in front of Viktória, who keeps on selling these dishes.

The diagnosis. Martin names the root cause clearly: the dishes are invented by Sergej, who has no clue about hospitality, the kitchen or business, and the staff cook things they have no idea how should look or taste. In the fridges he finds meat five months past its date and an old fishy „drowned man fished out of the Danube", the kitchen floor is dangerously slippery and every one of the women has already fallen on it. He comes down hard on Viktória, that as manager she must know her place from top to bottom and be the first one here in the morning, yet she still turns up around half past ten. Talking about herself she breaks down and admits that on the third of August her mother died, that she hasn't even buried her, and that she's been sorting out the funeral while pouring beers.

The reset. Martin starts with the basics: he sends Sergej to buy non-slip rubber mats for the floor and orders the women to clean out the freezers and throw away everything expired. Through guest questionnaires he reads them the harsh feedback in full, „in a feast hall I expect tastier food, not bland" or „the price of the food doesn't match the quality". The biggest crack, though, shows up between the people: it comes out that Alex wants to be paid for his logged hours and, according to Sergej, skims tips into his own pocket, which erupts into a fierce argument. At the same time Martin patiently pushes Viktória to finally step into the role of leader and stop being indecisive.

New concept & menu. This wasn't a big rebrand, Martin keeps the name Hodovňa and simply gives it meaning, „where you eat well, that's the Stupava feast hall". He builds the restaurant's identity on honest, hearty feasting and proposes dishes worthy of the name: meat from the broth with horseradish and bread, roast suckling pig, a sour lentil soup with homemade langoš, horseradish sauce with smoked beef tongue and a bread dumpling, braised cabbage with bacon, meatballs of potato dough, and to finish, homemade poppy-seed noodles. „The horseradish one wins for me," one of the women delights. New crockery and equipment also arrive in the kitchen.

The big night. On the big night the kitchen surprisingly holds up: the women have the dishes ready on time, and Martin is pleased that for once the kitchen is waiting on the floor, not the other way around. The trouble comes from the opposite side, the dining room, where Alex picks up plates without the kitchen's say-so and for a moment the potato balls and polished cutlery run short. Viktória, however, gradually gets the managerial knack, decides faster and leads the people, so Martin ends up saying it's precisely she who makes him happy, and he praises the whole team for the night. „You can be proud that these girls absolutely smashed it today."

One month later. A month on Martin returns to Stupava and sees the progress is real. The fridges look better, new guests are coming both for the lunch menu and à la carte, and Viktória has stayed on as manager. From the menu he tastes potato soup, goulash soup and a meatball in sauce, which is a touch soggy in the deep bowl, but the food is good as far as he's concerned, and the sour cabbage was even rinsed exactly to his taste. „If I'd come here for the menu, I'd leave satisfied," he concludes. Viktória admits Sergej guided her a lot and that she feels things are heading in the right direction.

Verdict: 3 knives. Martin leaves the Stupava feast hall 3 knives. „I left them three knives, I hope it pleased them, because the food here is worth it," he says, even though it's classic good homemade mum's cooking, which in his view they make with love and feeling. He believes that if they keep working on themselves, success will come and the restaurant will find its regular clientele.