Underground Café: A little taste of Bulgaria

Unwilling to stomach another brunch at the dining halls, I set out to Hulfish Street last Sunday to check out the nascent Underground Café. Only after obtaining detailed directions did I successfully find this sliver of a restaurant buried on the corner of Hulfish and Witherspoon. Despite its current obscurity, this slick European-themed café might just be Princeton's response to the posh cafes that line Greenwich and Soho streets.

Upon I walking in I was immediately greeted by Assen Tchongov, a muscular young man sporting a black rippled shirt and a broad grin. Tchongov, a twenty-nine-year-old Bulgarian soccer coach, is the owner of the Underground Café.

The décor has a leitmotif of unpretentious matte chicness, from the spongy fabric plastered on the ceiling to the black leather upholstery. Everything has been imported from Europe, Tchongov said. The high-paneled chairs and fractured glass tabletops are from Italy; the chrome silverware has IKEA's signature mechanical Scandinavian look. Even the stone for the stucco wall is from Bulgaria.

Coming from a Bulgarian restaurant household, Assen wanted a shift from the more traditional fare served at the five restaurants he owns in Bulgaria. Both the décor and the menu at the Underground Café attempt to capture a more modern, eclectic feel. The menu is a smorgasbord of Greek, Mediterranean, Italian and even American food.

"There's something on the menu for everyone," Tchongov tells me.

Peering around, I noticed that there was a bevy of 8 to 18-year-olds in soccer attire interspersed through a swathe of older men outfitted in tweed. Assen is right — neither the menu nor the prices cater to a certain demographic alone.

Judgment time. I sifted through the menu and selected the creamy salmon from the appetizer section. In the salad division, Tchongov recommended the house specialty, the Underground Salad. The Pastrami Salad looked like a juicy counterpoint, and I opted for that too. With no clear weighing mechanism between the tuna steak, sherry pork loin and grilled octopus, among other entrees, I chose an assortment of Tchongov's highly-recommended shish kebabs, which are awarded a separate section on the menu altogether. Dessert would have to wait until I had successfully barreled through the first few courses.

The salads came first, each served in a gray, ribbed portal of a sliced sphere. I go for the Underground first.

The Underground Salad is a nuanced and sumptuous mix of romaine lettuce, tomatoes, sweet peppers, onions, eggs and American cheese blended in with the restaurant's special dressing. There's a subtle sweetness to the dressing that works particularly well with the denseness of the egg.

The Pastrami Salad, though, is a real tour-de-force. The sharp bitterness of the radicchio is countered perfectly by the ripe saltiness of the pastrami. The anchovy-vinegar dressing is pure oomph.

Sipping on my Shirley Temple, I looked up to find a hefty rod of skewered meat proceeding in my direction. As the shish kebab is laid vertically on my table, juices start flowing down the cubes of spiced meat dangling from my skewer. The pork, chicken and beef are all saturated with a different marinade for twenty-four hours, Tchongov said.

The chicken is succulent. The beef cuts like butter. The pork, more heavily spiced than the beef or chicken, has a wholesome peppery bite to it. In a just a few minutes, I'm astounded by how much meat I've consumed.

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Chomping through my shish kebab, I hardly noticed my creamy salmon appetizer, served with cream cheese and toast and dill, which added a fresh arboreal accent to the meat. The fries that also came with the kebab were smooth and crisp.

Even after two salads, an appetizer and a rod of skewered meat, I feel light and refreshed, perfectly primed for dessert. I order the mascarpone mousse with strawberries and chocolate.

There's a rounded unctuousness to the Underground Café's mousse, just the right fusion of air and density. And the cool strawberry puree and warm chocolate complement each other with a smooth harmony.

After I licked up the last drop of my mousse, I gave Tchongov a hearty handshake, left the restaurant and congratulated myself on a Sunday well spent. This young Bulgarian soccer coach's recent debut might just be Princeton's next big culinary hit.