[PTMM #3] - The Pot Thief Who Studied Escoffier by J. Michael Orenduff

Author:J. Michael Orenduff
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: Murder, Social Science, Mystery & Detective, Humorous, Crime, Detective and Mystery Stories, Suspense, Fiction, Criminology
ISBN: 9781610090094
Publisher: Dark Oak Mysteries
Published: 2010-12-29T07:00:00+00:00

34

The euphoria evaporated over morning coffee at the French Café.

The headline on the review by Dagmar Mortensen, the restaurant critic for the state’s major paper read, “A Herr in my Soup.” The text was about what you would expect given the headline.

Many of us were looking forward to a new cuisine in town. After all, Austrian restaurants are as rare in New Mexico as a rainy day. After dining at Schnitzel last night, I now understand why. I admit to being impressed upon arrival. The entry looks like Mad King Ludwig’s Bavarian Castle. The maitresse’d was welcoming and lovely in her shimmering dress. Our table setting was impressive. Indeed, everything went well until the food arrived.

I started with the coachman’s salad, constructed from bologna, hard-boiled eggs, cucumber, and onions sliced in Cobb salad style. The dressing was a fatty mayonnaise concoction. The bologna, onion, and mayo created a taste you would expect from a county fair kiosk sponsored by Oscar Meyer and Kraft.

The fingerling potatoes in my companion’s warm potato salad were overcooked and oily. The only things required to turn our first course into the picnic from hell would have been ants and rain.

The entrées were worse. My Gebratener Leberkäse contained two rich meats, corned beef and bacon. I don’t know which was worse, the cloying flavor or the existential angst about which part of my anatomy the fat was going to disfigure. My companion, having taken the warning shot of her salad seriously, tried to play it safe by ordering chicken strudel, something that sounds both traditionally Austrian and light by comparison to my meatloaf. Her hopes were dashed when the chicken arrived.

At least we assumed there was chicken in there. The salty ham and heavy layer of cheese hid the bird well. Just to make sure no chicken taste would peek through, sour cream had been liberally applied.

I almost decided to skip dessert, which would have been a mistake. The Salzburger Nockerln and Linzer torte were good, although not good enough to justify eating what had come before.

Judging from Schnitzel, Austrian food will not be a hit in the Land of Enchantment. It is too heavy and dark for this sunny clime. Because it relies so heavily on fat, sugar, and salt, it has a tired formulaic taste one might expect in the cafeteria of a tourist boat on the Danube. After it sank. I have decided to make Schnitzel the first restaurant I have ever awarded minus two stars.

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