Passion Café
In 2008, before KAFO, before craft coffee, before I knew anything about coffee, or the emerging café culture, I stumbled into a tiny kawiarnia in Gliwice that felt as if it had slipped through a crack in time.
Four or five tables:
White linen tablecloths you were terrified of dripping tea on.
Piped classical music — familiar enough that I caught Mozart and Bach, even if my taste in classical runs a bit selective.
Furniture that looked as though it belonged in somebody’s best room.
And bone china — actual bone china — for a simple cup of tea.
It felt less like a café and more like a living museum exhibit: “Tea‑drinking customs of the respectable ladies of Upper Silesia, circa 1963.”
The only other customers I ever saw were elderly women dressed as if for Sunday afternoon visits — neat coats, careful hair, handbags placed just so. They sat with the quiet poise of people who had been taking tea properly for decades. I, meanwhile, looked like a man who’d wandered in by mistake and was trying not to touch anything.
It was the strangest atmosphere imaginable in 2008. I felt like an intruder in a time warp.
But the cakes… the cakes were unbelievable.
I fell head‑over‑heels for their Black Forest gâteau — in Polish, tort czarny las. Decadent and rich, punctuated by dark, liquor-soaked sour cherries — tart enough to slice through the layer of cream, sweet enough to linger—all smothered under a pure-tasting chocolate ganache. It was absurdly perfect — the kind of cake that makes you rethink your life choices.
When I moved to Gliwice in 2010, I was delighted to discover the café was still there and I made an effort to visit at least once a week for an afternoon treat. It was perfectly located as it was situated very close to my language school — the rear door of the school was almost exactly opposite the café.
A bitterly cold day on ul. Grodowa in February 2011,
with this unassuming back‑street kawiarnia serving the most unforgettable chocolate cake.
What I didn’t know then — what I only discovered years later — was that this wasn’t just a quaint little café. Between 2008 and 2011, Kawiarnia z Pasją was quietly becoming one of Gliwice’s first artisanal bakeries.
Hand‑decorated English‑style wedding cakes.
Private tasting sessions for couples.
Premium Valrhona chocolate instead of cheap substitutes.
No wonder the cakes tasted like they’d been smuggled out of a royal banquet.
When I moved to Poland in 2010, a friend — at great expense — bought me an entire gâteau and had it delivered to my hostel in Łabędy. I have photographs to prove it. One of them shows the cake exactly as it arrived: whole, immaculate, almost ceremonial. The welcome card is beside it, closed — the words inside are for me alone. They were beautiful, and I still have the card and images.
A beautiful welcome-to-Poland gift: an entire Kawiarnia z Pasją tort czarny las
Like a lot of people, I slowly started popping into a new kawiarnia, Kafo, more and more often. Before I knew it, it had become my regular stop. I stopped going to Kawiarnia z Pasją, and honestly, I felt a bit guilty for abandoning that little time‑warp café on Grodowa Street.
I went back once or twice. Same man. Same linen. Same bone china. Same gentle welcome — as if I’d never left. He was genuinely happy to see me. Not out of need, but out of pride.
In his head, they were going from strength to strength. Plans made, executed, exceeded. Looking back now, I think he must have felt quietly confident. While I was happily travelling to Katowice for a 3 zł lody świderki I adored, he was perfecting something far more ambitious — ice cream made by hand, in flavours bold enough to surprise anyone who walked through the door.
And he was right.
My lody świderki window counter in Katowice has long disappeared.
A recent check on Google Maps Street View framed in 2023, shows Kawiarnia z Pasją was still there on ul. Grodowa — looking the same outside, but with a refreshed facade, a new sign, and a tea garden attached.
And according to the reviews, it sells some of the best ice cream in Poland. Not just raspberry and chocolate, but kale and parsley — the kind of boldness only true artisans attempt.
They’ve flourished.
Quietly.
Steadily.
Exactly as they always deserved to.
PS: If you ever find yourself in Gliwice, wander down from the Rynek to ul. Grodowa and see Kawiarnia z Pasją for yourself. If they still offer tort czarny las, trust me — you won’t be disappointed.
Ghosts to Carry, Stories to Keep 