Mamuśka!
When I think of all the great cuisines accessible to a Londoner, the classic big guns come to mind. With the likes of Italian, French, Mexican, Japanese, Indian, Chinese and Lebanese occupying the top spots. Polish food is not usually in the same conversation. It isn’t affiliated with the elegance of Japanese cuisine, nor the attachment to land, produce and seasons so familiar with Italian food culture.
It’s often stereotyped. Considered bland, heavy grub without much versatility or colour. But in truth, it’s simply a cuisine most aren’t familiar with. Misunderstood and not celebrated enough. I read a Reddit forum that posed the question- “Why is Polish food not better known?”. My favourite answer was: “The first rule of Fight Club, you do not talk about Fight Club.” The general consensus was that Polish people are perfectly happy for their delicious cuisine to go less noticed. More for them. They know how good it is and don’t need international reassurance. I’m sure this isn’t true for all Poles, but I admire it nonetheless.
For those who aren’t Polish and are in the loop, let your friends and family in on the secret too. My pal had heard of Mamuśka, a Polish spot just off Leake Street graffiti tunnel, under Waterloo Station. Not the most glamorous area, but a convenient location to attract tourists coming and going. The restaurant has a seating area out front, as well as an indoor capacity that would rival even the largest of Weatherspoons. It seems a bit excessive inside, but the server proudly claimed it fills up regularly.
It’s taken the team at Mamuśka quite some time to get to this point in their journey. This is their 3rd location in London, after two tenuous attempts of mild success and a tough period during Covid. They are still here and thriving. The restaurant has a lovely little tale you can read on their website. But for the short version, a young Canadian man fell in love with a young Polish girl. She got him seriously hooked on Polish food, drink, and culture. They wanted to find somewhere in London where they could bring their Polish and non-Polish mates alike. Somewhere to dine, drink, listen to music, and laugh. But to their frustrations, nowhere seemed accommodating to everyone. So the young Canadian man decided to create this place himself, embarking on his own venture of bringing Polish cuisine and culture out of London’s periphery and into the forefront, accessible to anyone and everyone. Only love could ignite such a high-risk mission.
My friend and I ordered a Tyskie beer to share, one of Poland’s best-known lagers. As well as three different dishes. The first, a plate of cheese-coated Kielbasa (Polish hot dogs), sat on top of a load of chips. Like an upmarket fun fair treat. Next, a hearty stew of sweet cabbage, chunks of sausage, and a variety of healthy veg. A stoic sort of dish you can imagine Polish grandparents telling their children will help them grow and make them strong. Comforting and rich, it’s a bowl I assume hits the most sensitive nostalgic notes. Pierogis, if you didn’t know, are essentially Polish dumplings, typically boiled or fried, and can be filled with various different ingredients. We opted for the classic and recommended filling of blended white cheese, potato, and onion. It was topped with crispy bacon bits, caramelised onions, and a dollop of cottage cheese. If I am honest, I wouldn’t usually have ordered our choice of filling, nor do I particularly like cottage cheese. But all together on the plate, that preconception went out the window. So different from dumplings of the East, the blend of tangy, creamy, and salty flavours was quirky and elevated the dish to a level I didn’t expect. It was not just delicious and perfectly balanced, but special in its ability to challenge my experienced palate. Illuminating taste buds that had been kept quiet for a while.
Julia, the very thoughtful and chatty Polish server, answered my questions about the restaurant and passionately declared how she had searched for a long time in London for somewhere that served Pierogis just the way her grandparents used to make them. Apparently, her parents couldn’t even replicate them. But after one visit to Mamuśka, Julia had found exactly what she’d been looking for. Not only an amazing plate of Pierogis, but a way of reconnecting with her grandparents. It seems she was so impressed, she decided to get a job here.
Polish food is probably not everyone’s cup of tea. But there is no denying it is dynamic, flavourful, and more complex than its perception. It’s the sort of food that isn’t so fussed with appearances but is fueled by love and passion. Mamuśka’s story, alongside the look on Julia’s face when I said I loved the food, tells me the answers on the online forum weren’t necessarily true. I say, spread the word. Go to Mamuśka, bring your friends, eat, chat with the staff, ask about their story, and engage in the inclusive environment originally desired. In a city like London, it doesn’t take much for a cuisine to rise up the ranks.
9 Addington St, London SE1 7RY