Started the morning feeling pretty good about my belt and how there was actually a little wiggle room and maybe even the need for another hole to be punched to make it a little tighter. It is now evening, in Austria, and all hope is lost.
We left Monika and Jürgen's house this morning (cough cough...our mornings have been turning into early afternoons) and drove to Austria to visit Rosel and Hermann's house. We navigated roads that had four wheel drives (and Sherpas) sitting alongside scratching their heads. This is the type of place where, when a car is coming toward you, you pull to the side and stop so there is room for others to pass...for miles and miles. We arrived about an hour and a half later than we told them and were greeted by a very enthusiastic Rosel!
We were given the Reader's Digest tour and were ushered into the kitchen where Rosel began pulling food out of thin air. Suddenly there was fresh bread, meat, cheese, three different kinds of mustard, butter (fresh from the dairy), and butter fresh from the market (just in case we preferred that), there were rolls and pretzels straight from the bakery, and we were to wash it all down with good German beer, homemade pear juice, homemade juice from a berry that has no English translation, and apple juice that comes straight from their apple orchard where their house sits. I do not wish to make anyone think that we are finally being fed...quite the opposite. This feast is just an example of everyplace that we have been so far. If this was a food blog, I would have material for days! Up to now I have been able to monitor/control myself fairly well. What was the difference? in a word, Rosel!
When we met she said to me, "Nicht sprechen Deutsch, Ich nicht sprechen Americanish." Which, you might have guessed, means, you don't speak German, I don't speak American. This might present a problem to other people...not so for us. Everything moved along swimmingly as long as I got the gist of what she meant. It was pretty easy to determine that this laughing exuberant woman had one thing on her mind...feed the guests!
We all took a roll, some meat and cheese, and ate heartily. I personally tried every one of the drinks. When we'd cleared our plates, she would start gesturing again and then start pushing food toward us. If we stopped chewing she got this mournful look on her face like she'd failed as a hostess. Finally Sylvia clued us in..."Shes going to keep giving you food...eat very slowly." Ruth asked where the butter was, whoops...she got more from the refrigerator so there wasn't a wait. Someone pointed at the meat platter and she jumped like she'd been poked and sliced more prosciutto! I'm usually pretty good at resisting peer pressure but I didn't want to upset her...and it was so good!
When everyone had given up trying to shovel food down our gullets, she joked, "we can't stop yet...there's more food. You'll just get it for breakfast!" I told her that was a joke in my family, if you don't eat your dinner you'll just get it chopped up in eggs in the morning! She slapped her hand to her head, (I had mentioned a food not represented on the table), jumped again, and returned with a basket of hard boiled eggs that she proceeded to peel before we could shout to stop! It was my mistake, I ate the egg. I leaned over and whispered to the kids, "whatever you do, don't call someone a turkey! She will start cooking a bird!"
As our comas settled in, she offered the kids some hot chocolate since it was a bit windy...they accepted, but she was unable to provide it since her milk was a little past what she would like...she would have to go to the dairy. Well all of the city folk jumped at the chance and we traveled down the road a bit to get milk that, until recently, had been delivered to houses...in tins. We got to meet the woman who runs the dairy and take a quick tour while picking up some fresh yogurt, milk, and butter. When we returned, after about a half an hour, she brought the yogurt out so we could all try it. There was no saying no...in either language!
We all laughed when she brought out her homemade biscotti and two different types of cakes. When people groaned and said that we were already full, she went and grabbed a special bag of cookies (for us to munch on) since she sensed that we were disappointed with the choice of cakes. Ok, so the cookies were delicious. At every turn we were handed a new thing to munch on, a new wine to try, a new juice that the people in the family were making.
When we had settled down a bit and sat and talked, it had to happen between the laughs. The kids and I picked up on a few of the stories in German but much of it was lost. Every once in a while they would throw us a bone and give us the main idea of the story just to keep us in the mix. Every once in a while I would tell part of a story to try to be funny. I have to tell you, it is extremely satisfying to be able to cross a language barrier to cause laughter!
We talked, and laughed, and ate, and drank, deep into the night. We talked about breakfast and said our good nights...so we could start it all over again tomorrow. I warned the kids not to mention anything remotely related to Hawaii or a luau...I seriously think this woman would start digging a pit to roast a pig!!!
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