Café Jelinek: a Review

What is the first thing one thinks of at the mention of Vienna? Well, for me it is coffee-house culture: coffee and cakes, Kaffee und Kuchen. According to the Vienna Now * Forever website, in 2011 UNESCO added Viennese coffee-house culture to its list of intangible cultural heritage. And unwittingly I chose my favourite café without knowing it is considered one of the six best in the whole city.

It certainly is not pristine; indeed, it is rather faded. It is not even situated next to any of the famous sights and in fact one has to wander a little off the Mariahilfer Straße, Vienna’s main shopping thoroughfare, to discover its treasures. As can be seen in the photograph above, the flooring is tread-worn; the wallpaper is faded and tabacco-stained; the furniture, fixtures and fittings have all seen better days. So what keeps folk returning to this particular Kaffeehaus?

Well, it serves traditional, homemade cakes - not the wonderful confections found in cake-shops throughout the city, but rather the kind of baking that reminds one of one’s Grandmother’s or Mother’s cakes. The environment and food offerings create the famous gemütlich ambience for which Austria is so famous. (See this Wikipedia article for a fuller explanation of Gemütlichkeit.)

There is additionally ample outside seating for when the sun shines. It is easier to tuck a wheelchair under these tables than navigating the interior. As well as cakes, breakfast is served here all day, because (per VisitingVienna):

‘ “The early bird can go take a running jump” (the polite translation).’

During my latest visit to Vienna I visited the terrace three times. On two of those occasions I opted for the same light-bite from the menu (see image below): Sacherwürstel with Senf (mustard), Kren (horseradish in Austrian German, Meerrittich in German German) and a Semmel (bread-roll, Brötchen in German German).

As can be seen, these snacks were accompanied by beers, in this instance a light and citrusy lager named Wieselburger Bier. This perfectly accompanied the heat from the horseradish and the sweetness from the mustard.

Staff on every occasion I have visited Café Jelinek are calm and unfussed. They will not bother a customer unless beckoned. One will not be asked to leave or order more if one is peacefully reading one of the gratis newspapers or magazines. Neither will one be badgered to pay the bill until one is ready to do so. A totally relaxed environment.

For those in wheelchairs, alas the toilets are not accessible. Also, for those who are ambulant but unsteady on their feet, I suggest taking a friend to open the doors.

The clientele is very mixed: students; academics; shoppers; lovers; tourists and even the odd local celebrity.

And finally, what about the coffee served? In the top-most image one can see a Wiener Melange, a strong coffee with warmed milk and topped with Schlagobers (whipped cream, German German Schlagsahne). I always take this once on any visit to Vienna. However, as can be imagined, it is incredibly rich, nonetheless it goes well with cake. Mostly I drink Große Brauner, which is a double mocha with a drop of warmed milk. Delicious both, as no doubt are the rest of the coffee varieties listed in the menu.

Of course I thoroughly recommend the authentic Viennese coffee-house culture of Café Jelinek. If in Vienna, it is a must-see!

*

My apologies for the white background, I have tried all sorts to try to get back to the normal colour but Blogger will have none of it - as ever it does its own thing!

Sexual Naïvity At Fifteen

[Image description: a seated, strapping man in work-attire, named as Adam Fussell;

no photo credit nor © stated;

found at http://larsfredriksvedberg.tumblr.com/post/141769279326/adamfussell]

I have no idea who this handsome chap is, despite him being named as Adam Fussell. However, the image has made me recall a close-encounter in an Austrian country village's festival Bierhalle (beerhall).

It was 1980, I was fifteen - but looked older, seventeen or eighteen, due to facial features - and I was on my first-ever excursion outside of England, on a school-trip to Vienna and then Göstling-an-der-Ybbs for a few days in each. At said point I had fair communication in German, but still not fließend (fluent). I was bookish & arty & creative & dramatic and hated sports. At the all-boys school I attended, some labelled me a poof or gay; but I had no real idea what they meant. I liked boys as much as I liked girls, but in a completely asexual sense. Only the previous year, whilst queuing for class in the technical block, had fellow classmates P.J. and A.M. sufficiently described the mechanics of masturbation for me to work out what to do myself. So, the reader hopefully has a picture of a sexually naïf chap who appeared older than his actual age.

The tradition in a Bierhalle is for newcomers to fill up the spaces at already taken tables before taking an empty table. My fellow school-mates & I occupied most of two tables, but there was an empty place beside me. I had already attained my maximum adult height of 172 cm. (In the 1990s onwards, after years of yoga, I was and am now 174 cm due to better posture.) So when I say this huge fellow came over and sat beside me, one can gather he had something of the giant in him. He even towered over Jewy, the biggest lad in our group. He was clad in traditional Lederhosen, work-boots and a white cotton shirt opened at the neck. Hatless, one could see his blond straight hair was already thinning, poor chap. But he had friendly, blue, coruscating orbs. Everything about him appeared on the very large side, from feet to hands to head. His skin was fair but had the healthy complexion of one who labours outdoors. His nose, his nape and at least the visible "v" of his upper chest were all tanned where his hat had not offered shade.

I practised my German small-talk; but I cannot now recall his name let alone what we chatted about. We all dined on Wurst & Semmeln (sausage & bread-rolls) or fresh chicken, I drank Wein (wine) along with some other companions whilst others quaffed the offered Bier (beer). The local lad supped from his Bierkrug or Maß (tankard), at a much faster pace than any of us. His complexion became more and more roseate and eventually inclining to crimson.

Obviously from time to time one takes a visit to do one's ablutions and the Austrian chap decided to pursue me. Only I had no idea at the time that he was doing so. His flashing of his member was in hindsight an obvious come-on; but innocent of sexual mores I mistook it, as he had seen mine whilst I was urinating, as a quid pro quo - I'll show you mine because I've seen yours - and excused it as drunken lack of co-ordination and decorum.

Still later, as some of my peers liked a smoke, we went outside - away from the prying eyes of our teachers - for some fresh air. As my fellows were returning to their beverages, the local youth appeared beside me and all good-naturedly engaged me in chit-chat. He was attempting to get me to go off with him - thank the Maker I did not understand the ramifications of this! However, he had become quite physical and had me in a locked embrace (hug hold), in which I felt decidedly uncomfortable. At the time, I hated being touched by anyone - so the reader can imagine how appalled I was to be hugged by a stranger!

Despite my protestations, he refused to release me. To my enduring gratitude at least three of my classmates including S.D. and G.J. (and I think A.Y.?) came to my rescue. They certainly untangled me from his limbs and ensured I was protected henceforth. I think, I know, that was one of the very few times in my life I ever felt truly protected. (I had an awful home life, so there was certainly no protection there.) To this day, I still view Jewy as a bit of a hero. 

[NB. Names have been disguised to avoid causing any embarrassment.]

* 

 

[The interior of a Bierhalle in Munich]

Mädchenitaliener: a Review

[Image description: interior shots of the front dining area]

We arrived for lunch at a quarter past midday after a recommendation from the proprietor at Stetson on Münzstraße, Berlin (one of the main shopping zones in the city) to try out Mädchenitaliener on Alte Schönhauser Straße 12. The place was empty other than a very obviously in-love couple. We enquired of our affable server whether we were early for German luncheon. She advised that we were not. We ordered the apéritif from the specials' board, a cocktail of Prosecco, raspberry purée and fresh mint - tasty and refreshing with a wonderful, fruity aroma.

As a starter, Vorspeise, we ordered a sharing-platter for two. From the photographs below one can observe just how colourful and healthy it was. Nought remained once we had devoured every last morsel.

[Image description: sharing-platter & cocktails]

We ordered a dry, white wine to accompany our mains & desserts. My companion opted for fresh, spelt spaghetti & pesto rosso with fresh mint and Parmesan. I ordered the gnocchi. For the first time in my life I experienced gnocchi that had been sautéed after being cooked to give a satisfyingly crunchy outer texture before reaching the soft centres. Fresh mint had been added which had the texture of Chinese seaweed. Nothing went back to the kitchen. My only criticism was that the portion of gnocchi was too large and slightly over salted.

[Image description: spaghetti & pesto rosso and sautéed gnocchi]

I ordered a panna cotta for dessert, Nachspeise, with was decorated with poppy seeds, freshly grated chocolate, raspberry coulis and topped with a physalis. My chum ordered honeycomb & honey with whipped cream and sourdough. Again nothing remained on our platters other than tell-tale smears of deliciousness!

[Image description: panna cotta and honey, cream & sourdough]

Mädchenitaliener was incredibly relaxed and friendly: so much so, that we ended up conversing with the folk on the next table. Richard and I were there for the longest duration. Most other diners seemed only to want a quick one- or two-course meal. As we left there was still nary an empty seat - surely a good sign.

[Image description: diners eating]

We had a friend coming to meet up with us in Berlin, so we attempted to take her for dinner. Alas, the place was so popular we could not get a seat without waiting at least an hour. Instead we booked for the following night: even then we were the last space available!

The evening's service was not at all comparable with that of lunchtime. We waited in a line streaming through the restaurant, completely ignored by staff. An acknowledgement, even a quick explanation to us all would have been the courteous step to take.

We were not led to table and had menus thrust into my hands. It took thirty-six minutes from reaching our table before we even received our first drinks. Our starters took fifty-five minutes to arrive. Given we were booked in for nine pm we were famished by the time the food arrived. There are no images because we were so hungry we all three just tucked in.

The food was delicious. The mains - tagliatelle with fig (mine), gnocchi (2nd friend) and tagliatelle Lorenzo (1st friend) - were completely consumed. So stuffed, none of us could continue on to dessert.

 

 

[Image description: tagliatelle with fig, top; gnocchi, middle; tagliatelle Lorenzo, bottom]

 

We did give a 5% tip, but explained to our waitress that had there not been such long delays we would have given a 10% gratuity.

The food is well worth visiting this restaurant. If in any kind of hurry however, turn up for lunch NOT dinner.

%P

My long-lost ability to read…

At the beginning of April I reported a bout of insomnia on my facebook feed. However, despite the lack of sleep, I was extremely happy to relate that over a period of four hours, I read in Spanish volumes 9 and 10 of Y: the last man / Y: el último hombre (images below). The none-native-tongue is not what is so remarkable; the fact I read for an extended period is. Myalgic Encephalomyelitis can severely effect the cognitive abilities of sufferers. In my case I periodically lose the ability to read anything other than short passages of text. Some days any kind of reading is beyond me. Added to this is intermittent dyslexia. However, I may be slowly regaining my ability to read.

This past weekend over a two-day period I read Three Men in the Snow / Drei Männer im Schnee (images below) by Erich Kästner. Admittedly I am familiar with this work. Nonetheless I had not read it in well over a decade. To boot I read it in the original German.

Well, here's hoping my ability to read has returned. I may even be able to rejoin my book-club!

%D

Café Jelinek, Vienna: a Review

On our penultimate day of our trip to Vienna, we started and ended our "shopping" day with coffee. We opted for the gemütlich* delights of Café Jelinek, on Otto-Bauer-Gasse, a short stroll from our lodgings. It is a traditional and typical example of a Viennese Café, Wiener Kaffeehaus. As far as I know no-one of world renown is or was a regular there; but whilst there we were sitting next to an M.I.T. professor and a couple of academics.

One enters a slightly shabby-chic establishment (as the two photographs above probably demonstrate) that is confident in its decaying décor and plush velvet.  The attitude is: take it or leave it, nonetheless we shall treat you just the same as anyone else - pleasantly, professionally and without sycophancy.

At the end of the bar cum counter is a glass-covered zone set aside for the Kuchen, the cakes and pastries. My companion opted for Linzer Torte and I for a slice of the Apfel und Mandeln Torte, apple and almond cake; respectively the left and right confections in the image below. Thankfully they did not come garnished with Schlagobers (Austrian German; Schlagsahne in German German), or whipped cream. The portions are generous, perhaps overly so, as we were rapidly filled having consumed a hearty breakfast earlier in the day.

And what about the coffee (der Kaffee), the most essential part of any visit, you may ask. Well it was so delicious during my first visit I took two cups and then we returned later in the afternoon for a top-up. All coffees are served with a small glass of cool water. Ever so civilised!

Finally, below, pictures of the writer (on the left) and my companion (on the right) demonstrating how much we enjoyed ourselves - the big smiles are a dead give-away… %)))

* Gemütlich does not translate directly into English. My computer's dictionary offers the bland "pleasant and cheerful", which certainly does not do the term justice. For a more in-depth explanation, see Wikipedia's article on Gemütlichkeit.

Lachen

[Image description: the writer and a Viennese lady laughing together]

*

[Für Georg, mein österreichischer Freund]

“Und Du,
wie ich an Dir immer erinnere,
lächelst und lachst.”


                *

Merkwürdig, wie das Lachen
         Dein Lachen
         durch meinen Geist hält
glückliches Läuten
Ich höre Dich eins lachen
         und merkend lachen
         glucksend
         und schallend loslachen
         als ob im Zimmer
         recht in diesem Augenblick
aber die Erinnerungen
         wenn nicht ausgebleichten
         Jahre alt sind
die Herzlichkeit
die Lebensfreude
die Munterkeit
         beleben mich
         machen mich munter
         auch jetzt noch
         wie Dein Lachen
         wie Du
         hast dann
solche Fähigkeit
         für Fröhlichkeit
im Web ein Business Foto
         zeigt Dich lächelnd
         mit Bravour
per E-Mail ein privates Foto
         zeigt Dich lachend
         mit Begeisterung
natürlich
         nie gickelnd
         oder kichernd
nur Lachkrämpfe
         von übersprudelndes
         überschwengliches
         Lachen
angenehmes Reminszenz
einhüllender Sinn
wärmende Glut
Ich lächle,
         seufze, Hei-ho!
         dann wieder schmunzele
         bei mein österreichischen Freund
         und Dein ungezwungenes Lachen



*

The English version of this poem is called "laughter".

"Zum Wohl", Gluten- & Lactose-Free Restaurant, Vienna: a Review

The landlady of the lovely guest-house where we are staying in Vienna, suggested we might like to try Zum Wohl (literally meaning "To Your Health"; said as a toast or after sneezing) just a few hundred metres from our temporary residence. The offerings are stated to be one-hundred-percent lactose-free, 100% gluten-free. Even their own-brand beer (see the advertising-hoarding image below).

Zum Wohl is entered via a stolid but modern entrance (image below), tastefully built into the hundred-plus-year-old edifice. However, one must negotiate several large steps. Wheelchair-users without an assistant would not be able to enter, as the door itself is too heavy and pulls outwards. There was no button or bell to call for assistance from staff as far as I could tell.

The interior is not as bright as the photograph below might suggest. It is well lit, but also soft on the eye, which for this photophobe was just right. We were permitted to choose where we wished to sit. As in many venues in Vienna, seating of different heights and differing styles was available.

My companion, having eaten heartily earlier in the day, only wished to dine on a salad. He opted for Käferbohnen (called Feuerbohnen in Germany) und Erdäpfel (Kartoffel in German German) Salat, runner bean & potato salad with Speck. In this instance the Speck was bacon, but it can also be a type of air-dried prosciutto. The dish, as can be seen in the snap below, was beautifully presented, so appealed to the eye. My chum devoured it, despite not being hungry - delicious he said! Costing €4,90 this was excellent value for money.

Dining for me, tends to be somewhat more problematic, as I have a severe food allergy to garlic (Knof(e)l in Austrian German; Knoblauch in German German). I always make any eatery aware of this before I order. At first the waiter advised me that any dish could be prepared without garlic; but after checking with the kitchen he apprised me that I could not have anything with vegetables as they had been pre-prepared and all contained garlic. This left me with a single option for my mains and a choice of salads. I was glad I opted for the large salad, which contained both lettuce and mixed salad leaves, as well as cucumber, radish, cherry tomatoes (Paradeiser, Aust.; Tomaten, Ger.) and red & green peppers (capsicums). It was lightly dressed, tasty, crunchy, sweet - nigh on perfect. At €5,80 this represented good value for money.

Accompanying the salads were the lightest, tastiest and most delightful gluten-free breads I and my dining-companion have ever experienced. Top marks for these (below).

My sole choice for main was trout: served tepid, but a mouthwatering delight on the palate. This was accompanied by parsley potatoes, which were stodgy and reminiscent of school-dinners, and an assortment of veggies. The broccoli appeared to have come straight from the freezer and was most under-whelming. As can be seen from my visual record, there was no accompanying sauce. At €17.50 this was poor value for money. Disappointing.

Desserts. My chum was tempted by the pancake (Palatschinke, Aust.; Pfannkuche, Ger.). Again he was most impressed. At a mere €2,50 my friend was more than happy with his choice.

I opted for panna cotta with a ragoût of berry fruits (strawberry, raspberry, blackberry and redcurrant) and a rhubarb compôte. Both the ragoût and the compôte were just spot-on; but the panna cotta itself had the appearance and texture of plastic. A piece fell off my fork and bounced without breaking up which rather iterated its unusual constitution. At €6,50 this dish represented fair value for money, but I should not recommend it.

With wine for myself, beer for my friend, bottled Vöslauer water and two digestifs, the total bill came to a very reasonable €68 (about £50) for the two of us.

I would certainly go to Zum Wohl again for drinks and perhaps a salad for lunch; but I would not dine again. Having said that: this was the best free-from cuisine I have ever experienced.

Schloßcafé im Palmenhaus, Schloß Nymphenburg, Munich

Munich is a city I shall be returning to again and again, assuming I am blessed with a few more years. There is so much to do and see there, that even were I living there, I imagine it would take me years to see all its attractions. We sent the lads off to BMW-Welt and my friend and I headed off for Schloß Nymphenburg. We had determined that the tram could drop us off really close to the entrance, so popped on one of Munich's very accessible trams, Straßenbahn. Unfortunately, the wherever one goes ubiquitous road-works meant a change of trams. Nonetheless, we were dropped off at a bridge over one of the palace's waterways, the Schloßgartenkanal. We strolled towards the famous edifice and our jaws dropped. Instead of the building we had seen in an image all over Munich, we discovered an immense complex of linked palaces and mansions surrounding ample formal gardens and waterways. Both my chum and I struggle to walk due to disability and this huge spread daunted us. Still there were plenty of benches dotted hither and thither. Indeed, we had to sit for quite some time. We discussed viewing the palace; but given its immensity it was quite impossible. We decided to find a spot for a wee nibble.

[Image description: one corner of the spralling palace; the birds on the lawn are geese]

The Schloßcafé im Palmenhaus, the 'Palace Café in the Palm-House', was a delightful spot on a bright, warm day. Our quietly spoken, handsome waiter handed us menus after taking a drinks order. Our coffees came, and he made a note of our choices. Whilst awaiting our brunches, the terrace outside the eatery gradually filled up, mainly middle-aged Germans but even a gay British couple after their morning hit of Kaffee und Kuchen and a young in-love pair.

[Image description: laid tables under parasols]

I opted for the Schloßcafé's eponymous plate: ham; cheese; salami; smoked chicken breast; scrambled eggs; a fresh fruit kebab; butter; jam; and, a basket of freshly baked breads. This I washed down with a freshly squeezed orange juice.

[Image description: brunch set out at table]

The whole ambience of the place was hushed, peaceful and tranquil. Service was a tad slow, given when we arrived there were so few diners. However, the day and environment was glorious and we were in no hurry to move along. The quality of the food compared to price was very good. I also have to admit that the coffee served was one of the best I tasted in München. The table, as can be seen from the photograph above, was set perfectly with a vase of cut blooms.

Just delightful! %D

Hotel Restaurant Ochsen - a MUST-EAT-AT eatery!

Following on from my post on the live-blogged dinner and round-up of my foodie reviews of Hotel Restaurant Mühle, I am now going to review the best restaurant by far in the 3,000-inhabitant small town of Binzen in the south-west corner of Baden-Württemburg.

Whilst the food at Mühle is for the most part very good it never quite attains the excellent level. Their cuisine is very much in the old-fashioned "cordon bleu" style - heavy on sauces to just plain heavy - which appears to be known locally as Markgräflerstil. The service in Mühle's restaurant, including the breakfast pavilion, is highly variable depending on who serves one. (Tanja cheered us up at breakie whenever she was on duty; and I now call by morning coffee "Powerkaffee"!). Greetings were generally poor, making us feel uncomfortable and unwelcome. Salutations at the end of one's repast were nonexistent - even when departing the hotel (when co-owner Frau Hechler suddenly realised the receptionist was not going to do so, she called out a last-minute goodbye). It is true that the restaurant is frequented by many wealthy Swiss, both at lunchtime and in the evenings: but wealth of itself does not endow taste or epicureanism.

Why so much of the negative in respect to Mühle - which is a perfectly good restaurant and very much worth trying? Well, because I wish to highlight the higher quality and better treatment at Hotel Restaurant Ochsen. I have no difficulty in recommending Mühle; but Ochsen is a MUST. Gourmands and foodies of all persuasions ought to dine there if in the area. Ochsen also has large numbers of Swiss visitors, given the collection of number-plates in their car-park each time we passed.

We were warmly welcomed once our hostess realised we were there. We were allowed to select where we wished to sit, rather than it being dictated by staff. The traditional wooden chairs (see image above; © Ochsen) were surprisingly comfortable and I did not need to stretch my legs during the whole meal.

Apéritifs were immediately offered - we opted for a very welcome, punchy G&T - and then menus were brought over. Our hostess cleverly worked out that I would cope with the German and my companion required their English-language version. We were left to mull over our options with no pressure to order; but neither were we left waiting once ready to do so.

Whilst awaiting our orders, chef sent out a taster platter: piping-hot cream of cauliflower soup (Blumenkohlsuppe/Karfiolsuppe), not too salty, not too creamy and naturally sweet from the brassica; a pot with a slice of cold, pink, tender roast-beef atop a zesty tomato-based mouse on a tomato-based chutney, which was all unbelievably light and so full of complementary flavours.

My companion opted to pass on starters. I on the other hand selected a beetroot soup with lighter-than-light edamame spume and crispy, melt-in-the-mouth, deep-fried fungi. The beetroot tasted sweet and was so light, no trace, whatsoever, of that oft accompanying earthiness one experiences in Britain. The dish was served in a hot-chocolate style glass beaker with metallic surround. It looked fabulous, smelled delicious and wowed the palate. My companion sampled the soup, despite far from being a lover of beetroot, and even he was totally won over. Success on a plate… well, in a cup!

For my mains I ordered wild hare - which I have had in Austria, but have never encountered in the UK. It came perfectly roasted: slightly red; tender to the knife; sensational on the tongue. It was served on a bed of Apfelrotkraut (Blaukraut in München) which is red cabbage with apple. I was just amazed at the presentation (see image above for a similar example; © Ochsen), the quality and the taste.

My companion advised he was not hungry, so selected vegetarian cannelloni. What arrived was a golden hillock, a mound of fresh pasta stuffed with spinach and roasted veggies topped with cheese. It looked stunning and, to be honest, over-facing. Nonetheless, chum ate every last morsel and was up for licking the plate too!

We decided to share a desert. What arrived looked like a Miró painting: colours and lines played across the plate. Mint caviar gave off a bright green glow as the tiny jelly globules reflected the light. Sorbet both cleansed and titillated the tongue. Lots of flavours and textures all wrapped in a fun package.

Wine-wise we opted for a local rosé at the behest of my friend. It was perfectly quaffable to me; but I prefer something with more body. My companion on the other hand was fully delighted with the selection.

Service throughout the repast was attentive, friendly and from time to time the staff jested with us, both in English and German.

We went on a Wednesday night. The restaurant was never full, but folk continuously came and went. All appeared to be treated equitably (as in without favouritism) despite some of the habituées being dressed and bejewelled extremely expensively. And we were given amiable salutations by staff on exiting.

An almost perfect meal. Top-notch! %P

Hofbräuhaus on a Friday evening in Munich

Whilst in München I had the pleasure of experiencing the famous Hofbräuhaus hospitality. Our group of four only had set ourselves a minimum of to-do's during our extended city-break. This visit was a unanimous decision. And we were not disappointed.

According to our research the beer-hall opened its doors at six of an evening. Our taxi dropped us outside the building a full twenty minutes early. We quickly realised the info we had read was wrong. The place was jammed to the rafters, inside the hall itself and outside in the beer-garden.

[Image description: inside one of the many rooms of the Hofbräuhaus]

On a very hot and humid day in Munich, remaining indoors for we lily-livered Brits was just not an option. So, we headed for the, accessible, courtyard. With my well-trained eyes I quickly espied a couple of "empty" tables: that is, several vacant places and only a few folk already sitting at table. We opted for the one with a young couple on an apparently unsuccessful date.

The amiable Viennese waiter was very quick to dash over with menus and immediately realised my companions required the English-language versions (available at most touristy eateries in the city and its environs).

[Image description: a chum & the author with menu]

When our various beverages arrived, we discovered how difficult it is to raise one litre (liter) of ale in a sturdy glass Stein. How the heck the waiters and waitresses held multiple glasses in their hands, dishing them to customers without spilling one drop of beer let alone dropping the whole lot, we have absolutely no idea. Although, I suggested they might not be humans, but rather German-engineered automatons!

[Image description: another chum attempting to imbibe from her massive glass]

Our food was definitely not haute cuisine or anything resembling gastro-pub offerings. It was plain and simple, filling and tasty. Whilst sausage can be fattening, Sauerkraut is apparently extremely good for one. And young maidens and a solitary young lad, all in traditional Tracht (refer to previous posts on Munich), constantly patrol the gaps between folk vending the traditional Breze or Pretzeln, a delicious and light salted bread formed in the widely recognised pretzel shape.

[Image description: Bratwurst on bed of Sauerkraut with traditional Breze aka Pretzel]

Whilst dining we had the privilege of listening to spontaneous group singing (just as we had imagined and hoped for) as well as a traditional oom-pah-pah band performing traditional Blasmusik.

A visit to the Hofbräuhaus (or similar) is heartily recommended: for filling the stomach; slaking one's thirst; and, for a ripping evening's entertainment.