Sansho

Paul Day arrived in Prague from London's restaurant scene with a concept that should have been absurd: Asian cooking with Czech and Slovak ingredients. A decade later, Sansho has become one of Prague's most distinctive dining experiences — a testament to the idea that great cooking is about relationships between flavours rather than allegiance to geography. The Czech market's wild mushrooms, game, and root vegetables turn out to make excellent Asian food.

The menu changes constantly based on what Day finds at the Holešovice market, but the format is fixed: a succession of small plates, meant to be shared across the table, arriving in a rhythm that the kitchen — visible from most tables — sets rather than the diner determines. A typical evening might begin with a pork belly steam bun made with Czech heritage pigs, move through a tartare of local trout with ponzu and sesame, and build to a whole slow-cooked duck in five-spice with plum and pickled cucumber.

The noodle dishes are outstanding: hand-pulled udon made daily, served in a Czech game broth with wild mushrooms and a soft egg, sits alongside a cold soba with buckwheat grown in Moravia and dashi made from local smoked fish. The desserts — miso caramel tart, matcha and cherry pavlova — feel conclusive rather than obligatory.

The space is deliberately humble: exposed brick, bare tables, a counter running the length of the open kitchen. Eating alone at the counter, watching the brigade work, is one of Prague's best solo dining experiences. The natural sake list and excellent Czech craft beer programme reward attention.

Solo Dining: The counter seats, the open kitchen, and the parade of small plates arriving across an evening make Sansho one of Prague's most rewarding solo dining experiences. You'll eat better than anywhere in the city at this price.