A scent, then a sip and you're in.
Here, your shoes have no grip. There is no sidewalk and no threat of rain that would loom above you, as there is no sky.
You can feel your breath getting softer, as it lays on the corner of the glass. The bubbles in the drink are swirling up, grasping for the air above. You cannot stay undrunk from the journey that is about to unfold...
Shortly after you are seated, a landscape rises
from the porcelain.
Elevated from being a choice off a menu, bites lie in wait in front of you as an unconquered kingdom. A tapestry of ingredients molded into captivating combinations, liberated from the regulations of cutlery.
You shake slightly, because all of your senses are awake. Alive. You are beginning to enter a new, thicker and richer dimension painted by the chef David.
The intensity of the newly acquainted dimension is balanced by the tranquility of the cellar where the gramophone and the meat cutter dictate time and synchronize in the rhythm of the moment.
A beautiful chaos that isn’t quite random, like a grapevine. A familiarity of some sort washes over you and it begins to feel like a fantasy where time dissolves into itself as shapeless as the liquid from the glass you just drank.
Back to your seat, for this is a multi-act play, where the table is the stage full of wilderness ready to be tamed.
Tastes cover the tongue like snowflakes that fall on the warm ground. The bites sway in the mouth like feathers, pirouetting down an invisible spiral. Estatic cartwheels of every cell.
Orchestrated aesthetics coming from complete chaos that is the kitchen. A theatre without masks, unscripted acts, open ending. The plates seep right through you.
On the path, strong, erect, ready to last, a monumental dry-ager.
Defying decomposition, like the finest gallery, where the bystanders can peek into the essence of the animal, before themeat is dignified into a form of art, refusing to be just a step in the food chain.
It’s best to give in and allow the swine tongue to kiss you as a humble reminder of the bestial sacrifice that has given it’s hopes and dreams to make yours seem closer and more vivid.
The silky sweet scenery, full of fruit-savouring bliss with mouth-watering chocolate is a final fingerprint of mastery on your stomach.
The experience so delicate that you want to hold onto it forever... but something tells you it belongs there. Although it’s smoothing out the creases of your soul, it’s too intense to sustain it. It stays with you like an echo of your peaceful self.
Small, adorable petits petitfours seem like the perfect souvenirs of the two, three or even a petitfour hour journey that just emanated in your mouth.
Air thickens by the scent of a coffee and you find yourself bathing in the kick of the caffeine that is beginning to pull you away from thewakeful dream that you experienced.
The burning feeling on your throat caused by the pear-schnapps lingers like the mundane world waiting to be re-entered. You can run forever, search forever, but you’ve found it.
Distilled fruit brandy made from fresh, aromatic pears that grow on the Vračko family orchards south of Maribor. Strong alchoholic drink has a fresh, fruity taste with fine flavours and will be served at the room temperature.
RESTAURANT MAKOsojnikova ulica 20
T:+386 (0)2 620 00 53
Tue - Sat: 12:00 - 15:00 & 18:00 - 21:30
Reservations for lunch are required!
Sundays can be arranged.