Dearest Rachel –
It seems I am being encouraged to continue writing about my meals as I go from day to day. So you can consider this a third in the series. It may not be the most exotic of food, but some of it is not likely to cross my plate if and when I get back, and I might as well tell my tale in real time, lest I forget.
This morning’s repast, however, literally feels like nothing to write home about. Having ordered the American breakfast the other day, the only other option on the card I was to hang upon the room door (apart from all the boxes to check under the American breakfast listing) was the continental one.
They had actually brought me coffee, since I hadn’t checked anything else (again, I thought I wasn’t supposed to unless I was ordering the American breakfast. I still don’t think I’ve got the rules down); I had to ask for tea separately. I do like the fact that they have that little hook on the top of the bag that hangs under the lip of the cup, but otherwise there’s not much to say about this. Four rolls, jars of honey and strawberry jam, packets of butter and Nutella, and various sweeteners for the hot beverage: what’s to comment on, really?
For one thing, I don’t know how to spread anything on a croissant without destroying it – it’s just too light for that kind of treatment – and in any event, adding something to it is like pouring ketchup on a steak – you just don’t do that.
The other rolls require no such delicacy; they are solid, crusty rolls that can take a slathering of strawberry jam (which is fine, but nothing particular unique about it) or a drizzling of honey. Although, watching that stuff pour out of the jar onto the last roll leaves me somewhat longing for some pancakes. I guess that will have to wait until I get home; I doubt whether, even if I’m still flying home via Delta, and they give me a layover at their hub in Atlanta, there would be a Waffle House at the airport. It just doesn’t seem like their style.
At least tonight, I got my venison ragout.
Also, I’m not entirely sure why they bother with such huge plates. I keep thinking I’m going to get something substantial and filling, only to find a relatively small entrée in the middle of this vast bowl. I know it’s a matter of presentation, but sometimes you want substance over style.
As I’ve mentioned, I’m not a big fan of fruit with my meat, and since the pear half makes for a reasonable plate, I lift it off to be eaten as a sort of dessert afterwards. However, a blob of cranberry lands on a piece of venison, and I give it a try. I must admit, the flavor blends surprisingly well with that rich, dark, and slightly sweet flavor in its own right of the venison. The mushrooms don’t add so much flavor as texture, as the meat and the juice thereof really command center stage. As for the potatoes, like with just about every other side, they need… something. Anything. So as per usual, I slide the mass (which is whipped so finely, I’m kind of worried that it’s not made from real potatoes, but rather those reconstituted flakes). Still, in the midst of this brown sauce (which they give the curious name of ‘die Gut Luise’ – ‘the Good Luise,’ which explains absolutely nothing), most anything will taste good. Honestly, this would make a wonderful holiday meal – forget turkey, put some venison on the table with this ‘good Luise’ gravy, and I’m all for it. I probably wouldn’t recommend it for Easter, though – it has a certain dark richness to it that belongs in autumn or winter.
I just wish there was more of it.
I wonder if Dad’s friends at Ascot Meats would be able to procure venison, and whether they might know anything about this ‘good Luise’ sauce. Would be interesting to try and prepare for some holiday in the future.
For now, at least there’s enough sauce to cover not only the mashed potatoes, but at least one slice of bread as well. And I need it, as I want to get up every last drop of this stuff. This is just that good.
I suppose the one saving grace for such a small portion is that I’m done before it gets a chance to cool down to tepid levels. As far as I’m concerned, though, the meal is over all too quickly, even with the pauses to let you know about it.
Well as I said earlier, it’s not like I need to load up calories when I’m not going out and doing anything. I do think I’ve been getting better, and maybe some of them helped toward that end, but I’m sure not going to over stuff myself across this next week. It’s all going to be a little lighter than I’m used to; I can only hope it means I might be a little lighter, too, by the time I head home.
Wish me luck, honey. I’ll need it.