to the round table.
A deli, a bistro, a restaurant and a club, all in one. An all-encompassing place for get-togethers based on a humane kind of pleasure, one linked to sharing. The small tables at Sveti Florijan are just small enough so that the looks, thoughts and smiles, all of the playful stimuli for your wide-open senses, don’t get lost in a constant feeling of global visibility. Its location is discrete, at the tail end of Gornji trg. It is broken down into four sections that share the same pulse throughout the day and into the evening.
Devotion to the tête-à-tête.
Top left. A delicatessen with a bar, a few tables for the regulars and a wine bar, where you can opt to have a quick one, crack open a bottle, or head out into the street with a bundle of fresh ingredients to bring when visiting friends, to use when hosting them, to keep for yourself or to give to your loved ones.
The second section is the bistro, out of a scene from a French film, with crowded tables above and bumping knees below, and waves of laughter provoked by the clinking of wine glasses.
Section three. An open-air kitchen, where attentive observers can tune into their own live reality show. In the meantime, stab your fork into something with a robust aroma and a surprisingly vibrant taste, and jot down on your napkin an encouraging note on how to cook, how to eat, or something about the pleasures of the day.
The three sections are linked by six wines chosen daily and served one after another, for you to taste, if you are in the mood for variety. If not, if you are more straightforward by nature, you have all the time and attention in the world to choose the wine that you find most pleasant and sweet.
A night club is tucked away on the bottom level. One with a selection of custom-made cocktails, with a focus on the classics, which burn best when the hour is late. An important element of the club, just one step higher, is the dancefloor. A platform for those people for whom the world is rendered in tunes, who wrap themselves in the flickering neon, the smoke, that final bass note felt deep in your last vertebra, the one that never fails to move your feet. Moved on the floorboards or beneath them, open yourself to surprise.