What I Ate in Ljubljana (and What I'd Skip)
It's easy to get Ljubljana wrong. I learned that the hard way on my first morning, when I marched into a touristy cafe on Prešeren Square, ordered a coffee, and paid 8 euros for a cup that tasted like lukewarm water. The barista barely looked up from her phone. I’d been sold a postcard, not a city. But by my third day, I’d discovered the real Ljubljana, where food is a conversation, not a transaction. My first real meal was at Kavarna Križanke, a tiny spot tucked away on Križanke Street, a cobblestone lane just a stone’s throw from the castle. I walked in at 1 p.m. on a Tuesday, and the owner, a woman named Ana, greeted me like I was family. She handed me a menu written in Slovenian and English, and I pointed at the potica, a rolled walnut pastry that’s a Slovenian staple. It came with a side of local honey and a glass of fresh milk, all for 3.50 euros. I sat at a wooden table, watched the street life through the window, and realized this was the kind of place where time slows do...