Fat city
This is belated, but I had to comment on the food on our Bavarian trip last weekend. Not that this probably comes as a surprise, but German food isn't exactly the lightest cuisine on the continent. After four days of eating nothing but hearty gut-busting fare, I felt like I was the one with a baby in my belly. Let me see if I can remember our meals (and this doesn't include breakfast buffets, afternoon stops for cake and coffee, random pastries, ice cream, beer, etc.):
Friday lunch in Heidelberg at Zum Franziskaner, Gretchen had Jägerbraten (pork roast in a mushroom sauce) and dumplings, while I had a pork steak with bärlauch (wild garlic) butter and fries.
Friday dinner in Schwäbisch Hall at the restaurant of the Haller Löwenbräu brewery (not to be confused with the Löwenbräu brewed in Munich or the crappy US imitation), Gretchen had spätzle with pork tenderloin and cheeze melted over the top, while I had Maultaschen (sort of a German cross between ravioli and lasagna) in a rich tomato sauce. Little did I know this would turn out to be the lightest thing I would eat on the trip. Incidentally, the next morning there was a great little food market right outside our hotel, and when we saw that for 1 euro we could buy a tiny little Haller Löwenbräu beer and keep the glass, who cared that it was only 9:30am--I couldn't pass up an offer like that!
Saturday lunch in Rothenburg ob der Tauber was a very special treat. As previously mentioned, it was too touristy for our taste, but when Gretchen spotted a funky pair of Birkenstocks that she simply had to have, we asked the woman helping her if there were any restaurants she liked that weren't too touristy. Sure enough, she suggested the Rödertor just outside the tourist zone. Almost as an afterthought, she mentioned that it was a Kartoffelstube, which basically translates as a cozy potato restaurant--and let me tell you, Gretchen loves potatoes. Sure enough, the menu had two entire pages with nothing but potato recipes. She went with the potatoes baked with garlic and rosemary, with a big side of pork schnitzel (breaded and fried). I had a gooey baked gratin of potatoes, spinach, cheese and garlic. Mmmmmmmm!
At that point you'd think we would just have a salad for dinner--but you'd be wrong. In Bamberg that night we stumbled upon Zum Domreiter. It turns out Bamberg is known for its Rauchbier (smoke beer), which I had to try. Sure enough, it tastes (and looks) like beer that's been smoked...better than it sounds, but one was plenty. Gretchen had the Sauerbraten (basically, German pot roast like her Oma used to make) with cabbage and a potato dumpling, while I had a plate of assorted types of local bratwurst.
The next day we were off to Regensburg, where a woman at the hotel recommended a place called Dicker Mann. Never mind how funny that name is in English--in German it means "fat man", so it was just the place for us! Gretchen opted for a bowl of potato soup and Fleischpflanzerl (basically, a Bavarian hamburger patty) with potato salad. As for me, I went with the Wienerschnitzel (breaded and fried veal, not hot dogs as many Americans think) with fries.
Dinner found us at a real Bavarian beer hall restaurant: Brauerei-Gaststätte Kneitinger. Never mind the food, which was good--what made this great was the atmosphere. It was the sort of place that only had long, communal tables. At one point all but one of the people at a neighboring table left, so the one guy who was still there just picked his beer up, moved over to our table, and started chatting with the people at the end of the table. They eventually had to leave, but another guy showed up and in no time they were chatting it up as well. From what we could tell, they didn't actually know each other but it seemed perfectly normal to converse with anyone and everyone regardless. Unfortunately they were speaking with a heavy Bavarian accent (the first time on our trip that we noticed it, actually), so Gretchen couldn't keep up. We did manage to ask someone to take our picture, though. As for food, it was sausage for both of us: bratwurst and potato salad for me, Knackers (tee hee) and sauerkraut for her.
(Sadly, the next morning we planned to stop for more bratwurst at the legendary Historische Wurstkuchl after breakfast, but it turned out neither of our stomachs were in any condition for that at 9:00am. Go figure.)
For what turned out to be our last meal in Bavaria, we were driving down the road to Neuschwanstein when we got hungry and decided we would stop at the next halfway decent-looking restaurant along the way. We randomly stumbled on Gasthof zum Lamprecht, and we took it as a good sign that the parking lot was full. We weren't prepared for what we saw when we walked in: two long tables of people decked out in full Bavarian togs. We're talking lederhosen, crazy hats, you name it. You may think that stuff is all just for tourists, but rest assured we were the only tourists in the place and they weren't putting on a show for us (as a matter of fact, we so wanted to take a picture but thought it would be rude). The food--pork schnitzel and fries for both of us--was delicious, but almost an afterthought compared to the atmosphere.
(You'd think we would eat much lighter when Dave was here--after all, when we were roommates he would read labels for the food I bought and tell me how many grams of fat it had--but sure enough we found ourselves eating the usual rösti, cheese fondue, hearty Alsatian food, etc.)
Incidentally, a good test of whether or not you could live in this part of the world would be to see if this post made you feel: (a) hungry; or (b) ill.
Friday lunch in Heidelberg at Zum Franziskaner, Gretchen had Jägerbraten (pork roast in a mushroom sauce) and dumplings, while I had a pork steak with bärlauch (wild garlic) butter and fries.
Friday dinner in Schwäbisch Hall at the restaurant of the Haller Löwenbräu brewery (not to be confused with the Löwenbräu brewed in Munich or the crappy US imitation), Gretchen had spätzle with pork tenderloin and cheeze melted over the top, while I had Maultaschen (sort of a German cross between ravioli and lasagna) in a rich tomato sauce. Little did I know this would turn out to be the lightest thing I would eat on the trip. Incidentally, the next morning there was a great little food market right outside our hotel, and when we saw that for 1 euro we could buy a tiny little Haller Löwenbräu beer and keep the glass, who cared that it was only 9:30am--I couldn't pass up an offer like that!
Saturday lunch in Rothenburg ob der Tauber was a very special treat. As previously mentioned, it was too touristy for our taste, but when Gretchen spotted a funky pair of Birkenstocks that she simply had to have, we asked the woman helping her if there were any restaurants she liked that weren't too touristy. Sure enough, she suggested the Rödertor just outside the tourist zone. Almost as an afterthought, she mentioned that it was a Kartoffelstube, which basically translates as a cozy potato restaurant--and let me tell you, Gretchen loves potatoes. Sure enough, the menu had two entire pages with nothing but potato recipes. She went with the potatoes baked with garlic and rosemary, with a big side of pork schnitzel (breaded and fried). I had a gooey baked gratin of potatoes, spinach, cheese and garlic. Mmmmmmmm!
At that point you'd think we would just have a salad for dinner--but you'd be wrong. In Bamberg that night we stumbled upon Zum Domreiter. It turns out Bamberg is known for its Rauchbier (smoke beer), which I had to try. Sure enough, it tastes (and looks) like beer that's been smoked...better than it sounds, but one was plenty. Gretchen had the Sauerbraten (basically, German pot roast like her Oma used to make) with cabbage and a potato dumpling, while I had a plate of assorted types of local bratwurst.
The next day we were off to Regensburg, where a woman at the hotel recommended a place called Dicker Mann. Never mind how funny that name is in English--in German it means "fat man", so it was just the place for us! Gretchen opted for a bowl of potato soup and Fleischpflanzerl (basically, a Bavarian hamburger patty) with potato salad. As for me, I went with the Wienerschnitzel (breaded and fried veal, not hot dogs as many Americans think) with fries.
Dinner found us at a real Bavarian beer hall restaurant: Brauerei-Gaststätte Kneitinger. Never mind the food, which was good--what made this great was the atmosphere. It was the sort of place that only had long, communal tables. At one point all but one of the people at a neighboring table left, so the one guy who was still there just picked his beer up, moved over to our table, and started chatting with the people at the end of the table. They eventually had to leave, but another guy showed up and in no time they were chatting it up as well. From what we could tell, they didn't actually know each other but it seemed perfectly normal to converse with anyone and everyone regardless. Unfortunately they were speaking with a heavy Bavarian accent (the first time on our trip that we noticed it, actually), so Gretchen couldn't keep up. We did manage to ask someone to take our picture, though. As for food, it was sausage for both of us: bratwurst and potato salad for me, Knackers (tee hee) and sauerkraut for her.
(Sadly, the next morning we planned to stop for more bratwurst at the legendary Historische Wurstkuchl after breakfast, but it turned out neither of our stomachs were in any condition for that at 9:00am. Go figure.)
For what turned out to be our last meal in Bavaria, we were driving down the road to Neuschwanstein when we got hungry and decided we would stop at the next halfway decent-looking restaurant along the way. We randomly stumbled on Gasthof zum Lamprecht, and we took it as a good sign that the parking lot was full. We weren't prepared for what we saw when we walked in: two long tables of people decked out in full Bavarian togs. We're talking lederhosen, crazy hats, you name it. You may think that stuff is all just for tourists, but rest assured we were the only tourists in the place and they weren't putting on a show for us (as a matter of fact, we so wanted to take a picture but thought it would be rude). The food--pork schnitzel and fries for both of us--was delicious, but almost an afterthought compared to the atmosphere.
(You'd think we would eat much lighter when Dave was here--after all, when we were roommates he would read labels for the food I bought and tell me how many grams of fat it had--but sure enough we found ourselves eating the usual rösti, cheese fondue, hearty Alsatian food, etc.)
Incidentally, a good test of whether or not you could live in this part of the world would be to see if this post made you feel: (a) hungry; or (b) ill.
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