Meals that you will always remember

[SeaCat]

We've all had them. Those meals that stick in your mind forever for one reason or another.

I have had many, meals that will always stick with me because of the situation or the food or the company.

So what are yours?

I'll start out with a couple of mine.

One was in Boston. My Uncle had invited my parents, my wife and myself out to dinner. We showed up and he escorted us to one of his favorite places, a little French Restaraunt in the basement of a building. (It takes a while to even get your reservation there. The owner is a friend of my Uncles so,,,,,) We went down the stairs and into a place that looked like old France. The atmosphere was muted as were the lights. We were seated and handed our menu's even as they poured the wine. I don't remember what the others ordered although I do remember that I ordered Chicken in Brie Sauce. It was the atmosphere and the company that made this meal.

Another was when I was camping with my father. We had hiked into the area and set up camp, then we went hunting. My father was the lucky one that day and bagged a nice sized deer. We set up the racks for the drying of the meat and butchered the animal before we started dinner for ourselves. Dinner was Venison Steaks rubbed with Bacon Grease before being wrapped in Bacon and cooked over open coals. All washed down with hot coffee in the cold of the mountain evening under a crystal clear sky.

A third was on the first camping trip with my wife. We had gone up into the White Mountains, carrying everything in with us in packs. It was roughly ten miles from the car to the campsite and we did it over the course of a day. We set up camp on the side of a lake, near where it emptied into a river. Once camp was set up I grabbed the fishing pole I had packed in and set to work. It didn't take long before I had several nice big Trout. Then I nosed around and picked some plants. That evening my wife got to try Clay Baked Trout seasoned with Salt, Pepper, Wild Onions and Mint. We sat around the camp fire enjoying dinner in the dark while sipping a bit of Tequila and listening to the wind in the trees.

So tell me yours and I may even tell you some more of mine.

Cat

 

[MaeveoSliabh]

One I'll always remember was very simple. When young, Dad used to take my sister and I up to the mountains to camp. We'd pack a tent and a cooler and go from there. Sometimes my aunt came along. When she did, she always brought bratwursts (as opposed to the hot dogs for us kids). This particular meal sticks out because we had cut a curved stick for her to roast her bratwursts because they were 'curvy hot dogs' and it turned out she hadn't brought them.

There was another one at a campsite - just me, out in the wild, for the first time. I had hiked out about 15 miles before calling it a day and managed to snag a rattlesnake. They're pretty good cooked up in a bit of bacon grease with a coal-baked potato, complete with wild onions for flavor.

 

[glynndah]

A small restaurant. An unlisted phone number. Actually no phone number. Call the owner's girl friend's cell phone number and leave a message stating how many in your party and when you'd like to eat. He'll get back to you in a day or two and let you know if he has enough people eating that night to open up.

Mismatched chairs surrounding tables covered in newspaper ( you can catch up with "Dear Abby" while you're waiting), a cup of Sharpies as a centerpiece. One knife, fork and spoon per diner. There are no more. If you drop one, please pick it up and wipe it off on your jeans or your napkin. No air conditioning, but the fuse box and outlets are right there. You're welcome to bring your own fan and extension cord and plug it in. The lights do dim and the wires spark every once in a while, but it hasn't caught fire yet.

Oh, and the Sharpies? Feel free to write or draw on the walls or the ceiling. (You may stand on the tables to facilitate this.) You may remove the paintings on the walls to leave a secret message, but please hang them back up when you're finished. Of course, you can always buy that one if you like it.

Dress code? Nope. Wear whatever you'd like, from overalls and gimme caps to mink coats and pearls. (I've seen both, at the same table.) You may be outside for part of the evening so dress accordingly.

Amenities? Ha! There's a shrine at the entrance to the bathrooms. Patrons are encouraged to add a small token to the setting. A penny right there is fine. The light's kinda iffy. That candle serves dual purposes. The toilets flush, and occasionally there's running water in the sinks. If not, use the tub of baby wipes provided.

Drinks! Water. In plastic glasses. Most of the time there's ice, but not always. You should probably stop by beforehand and grab a bag. Feel free to bring a cooler full of whatever you'd like to drink. They don't care what it is. Somebody somewhere in the place will surely have a bottle opener or a corkscrew.

Menu? They don't need no stinking menu. You get what the chef wants to cook. There's a crawfish boil in the big iron kettle outside and usually he's smoked his own hams in the smoke house around the back. Most of the time there's some sort of a salad, a bread, perhaps a starch and a vegetable and the dessert is usually Bananas Foster. Don't ask the waitress what's coming up next, either. She won't tell you. No, really, she won't. Just try what's in the plate being passed. If it's really good, take a little more, but do leave room for the five or six additional courses to come. They keep bringing the food until they run out for the night. Oh, and don't ask about the price, either. It all depends on the number of courses, the chef's mood and the phrases of the moon. It's around forty dollars a person, more or less.

Take a break. The chef's not happy with the upcoming course so he's scrapped it and is starting all over. Pet the hound dogs that have wandered in from the front porch. It's a beautiful night, much too pretty to shut the door. Wander around out into the old barn and the storage lofts but please don't chase the cats. They do not appreciate it.

There's a favorite band. They're an eclectic mix, washboards, didgeridoos, bluegrass and Snoop Dog. There's no stage. They just set up in whatever corner is vacant, usually by the old counter behind the cash register. They'll drop by the tables during their breaks. You can buy their CDs and maybe a t-shirt.

Note: They recently underwent a remodeling. Clean white walls and new plumbing. Alas, no more Sharpies and bathroom shrine. The food's still wonderful, though.

 

[voluptuary_manque]

OMG, goodwitchie, where is this place? Sounds like it's worth the plane fare from wherever! I've just finished dinner and you've set me drooling . . .

The professional hunter, the trackers and I stalked and tracked an eland herd for three days, really three days. Around noon the PH asked if I wanted to go after something else as we didn't look to get close to the eland this trip and I was only going to be in Africa for a limited time. I replied "Uh-uh! After this long it's gotten personal!" He gave me a funny look and turned to the trackers. They grinned and agreed. Now it was personal. Close to dusk we finally caught up with the herd. My shot, while fatal, wasn't one I'm the least bit proud of. Fortunately the beast ran a klick, jumped a fence and died under a tree that we could use to hoist it into the back of the Land Cruiser. The next night we had liver and onion appetizers followed up by eland steaks broiled over a mopane wood fire with a fresh green salad, and a bottle of good South African red wine. With the Southern Cross overhead one could lean back in his chair and honestly believe that if God wanted to take me right then, I wouldn't complain. Life wasn't going to get any better than it was that night.

 

[SeaCat]

Returning home from Switzerland with Mikki we were both truly shattered. We had been riding through shit weather and were soaked through our leathers. Coming down out of the pass we saw a small Gasthouse and pulled in. We had to warm up. (It was late December.)

We parked the bike in front and walked in shivering. The owner watched as we peeled out of our jackets then waddled over and told us to take off our leather pants. He gathered them up and hung them next to the woodstove before turning back to us. He didn't ask questions, instead he placed before both of us a shot of the local Schnapps and a cup of strong black coffee.

It was only as we started to defrost that he came over and asked us what we would like. Mikki looked at me and shrugged so I told him we didn't have a lot of money and to give us what he would ask for in that situation. (I laid down several 100 Mark Bills.) He smiled and waddled back to the kitchen.

Before we knew it we had before us cups/bowls of Leberwurstknobbloch (Liverwurst Dumpling) soup. Thin as it was it tasted great and remains a love of mine. (No German Liverwurst is not like that salty pate you get here in the states.) This was followed by one of his creations, a Curry Schnitzel. A lot of flavor and a bit of a bite. All of this was washed down with glasses of the local brew.

As we were finishing this the owner came up and informed us the roads were closed due to the storm. I was thinking we would have to spend the night in the tube tent and sleeping bag strapped to the bike, (Not a bad thing with Mikki) when he told me he did have a room no one was using. We could have it for free because of the conditions. Then he told us to go out on the patio and he would bring us some Pommes. (French Fries.)

Now first off I was thinking the patio would be open. It wasn't. It was a glass enclosed space giving us a nice view of the mountains. Second I'm not a fan of French Fries, but these were fantastic. Thin and fried crisp they were hot as hell and tasted great. Mikki and I went through a large plate of these washed down with more beer.

That night we found ourselves in a feather bed covered by a down comforter in an unheated bedroom. The feel of her naked skin next to mine made this a bit of heaven.

The next morning after rising and getting cleaned up we wandered into the dining room. We were expecting the usual European Breakfast of Hard Boiled Eggs and cold cuts. We were greeted instead by freshly fried eggs along with fried bread and hot Bacon. All of this of course washed downwith Coffee. Oh this tasted great and worked well to fortify us for the ride home. I wasn't looking forward to trying to start the bike which had been sitting outside all night when the owner of the place told me to follow him. I found he had moved the bike into his garage and hooked the battery up to a charger. When I looked around me I understood, there was his bike,

Going back inside I was greeted by Mikki holding two pairs of Poly Pro Long Johns and smiling. The owner had given us them.

When we left that Gasthouse we were wearing the longjohns as well as well warmed and dried leathers. Strapped to the top of the cargo box was an insulated box holding some hot food for our lunch and a thermos filled with coffee.

I have rarely had a dinner or a breakfast that tasted so good.

Cat

 

[shereads]

A few meals have been so wonderful, I can't remember anything about the food.

Those are private.



As for the other kind of great meal - the kind that you think, ohmygod, this is the best food on the planet...One in particular stands out even though it took place decades ago, and while under the influence of chemically enhanced "munchies": a plate of cannelloni at Sardi's, before seeing "Dreamgirls" the stage musical. If I'd been alone and not in public, I'd have probably tossed my fork on the floor and hoovered-up that fine cannelloni with messy slurping noises, resulting in a face-ful of tomato-cheese sauce. Jeebus, it was tasty!

Another exceptional and simple meal, just recently: tender, buttery, steamed mussels in a garlic-y red-wine broth, served with a basket of crusty bread. Food of the gods!

A favorite restaurant in Savannah, when I visit my mom (and am able to persuade her to eat someplace besides Wendy's or Chick-Fil-A) is Paula Dean's always-crowded place in the historic district, "The Lady and Sons." The Deans put on a classic Southern-style spread: part soul-food, part Sunday-dinner-at-your grandmother's farm house. The flaky biscuits and crispy corn fritters that are served in lieu of ordinary bread, arrive in a basket soon after your party is seated. Be careful reaching for your first corn fritter; if others in your party have the same idea, they might stab your hand with a fork.

Dessert is likely to be fresh peach cobbler, pecan pie, or chess pie (a sort of pecan-less pecan pie, emphasis on the creamy-caramel custard.)

The Goddess of Chocolate Desserts is the Chocolate Lava served at a restaurant called "Pacific Time" on Lincoln Road, South Beach. They use bittersweet Belgian chocolate and a recipe that somehow contrives a light-as-air crust that, when tapped with the blunt edge of a knife, cracks open like a chocolate San Andreas fault, releasing a thick, dark, flood of gooey glee. I could lick this monitor, just thinking about Chocolate Lava.

Who wants to meet me this weekend at Pacific Time? You choose the entree and appetizers; I'm in charge of dessert.

Chocolate Lava is the only worthwhile byproduct of plate tectonics.

 

[glynndah]

OMG, goodwitchie, where is this place? Sounds like it's worth the plane fare from wherever! I've just finished dinner and you've set me drooling . . .

Southern Illinois.

Cut and pasted from a blog about secret restaurants:

"Mike, you and others here might really enjoy the Lick Creek General Store, south of Marion on the precipice of the glacial moraine in Southern Illinois. Five or six years ago, it truly was a secret restaurant, and the proprietor sized you up before permitting your party to indulge in one of the hours-long Cajun-Creole bacchanals held in the most perfect tumble-down general store you'll see. Its a bayou shack, on an Appalachian site, in Southern Illinois. More recently, the SIU student press, and some climbers drawn by the white cliffs, have written some about Lick Creek, it has opened its doors to the community through a crawfish fest, and the store even has a phone number listed. It's an almost surrealy cool place, and well worth checking out. The trick is getting a large enough party together with enough advance notice to make it worth the chef/owner's time (and his trip to St. Louis for groceries). I'd encourage anyone passing that way on I-57 to do three things -- visit 17th Street BBQ, visit Cairo, and visit Lick Creek, if only to see the store and the moraine."

And another c & p:

"Lick Creek General Store. Nick Rion has transformed his families traditional store front into a restaurant that does things a bit different. For example, they have handicapped accessible outhouses. This doesn't seem to keep the customers away, however. Backroads witnesses an evening of outrageous dinning, drinking and merry making that spills out into the street for the pyrotechnic display as Nick blackens shrimp in a blaze of fire. A fitting grand finale to an evening of revelry, food and friends at the Lick Creek General Store."

Alas, the place seems to be under new management. Nick's left for greener pastures, and perhaps a kitchen up to an occasional visit from the health inspectors, too.

Lick Creek General Store

A link to the "house band", too. The Woodbox Gang

 

[Bizkit_Writer]

I'd have to say Reindeer in Norway with my father at a family friend's house. It was served with potatoes, gravy, Lingone berries, (i think thats how you spell it) and peas. It was amazing! My mouth waters everytime I think of it.

Another would have to be a snack in Norway with my aunt in 1996 a few years before she passed away. It was a norwegian napolean cake and she and my uncle brought it to my cousin's house just for me.

 

[Stella_Omega]

Raw Fish!

My neighbour across the street loved to go deep-sea fishing. After awhile, his wife refused to cook any more fish-- so he'd bring them to us.

We ate them raw That was back in the sixties, when Sushi was relatively unknown...

In the eighties, I was the guest at one of the oldest, I was told, sushi houses left in Japan. My hosts started playing "Let's see what the gaijin girl won't eat" and I had a great time... I tasted things I could never have afforded on my own.

But one of the most beautiful meals of my life, was in the South of France, in a restaurant that had been built in a 600 year old building. A saddle of rabbit, wrapped around herbs-- basically, entire young plants, pulled out of the ground-- onions, garlic... roasted in a clay tureen. And wild strawberries with the local cream.

(eta) Bratwursts reminds me-- there was a flame=broiling stand in Zurich, at limmatplace. Their speciality was 'servelats'. sort of like short, and tastier Polish sausages. They did brats too. These were served with bread that was baked in the fire--- blacked, and hard crust, and tender and moist inside.

 

[Shakti_Dreamer]

The first meal I had when I got out of jail was one I will always remember. I wasn't in pokey for long (got in a bit of trouble for DUI). But, I was in long enough to starve because the food was so horrid.

In any case, I had been dreaming of that meal for days and days. I spoke to my dear sweet mother and she wanted to know what I'd like. I told her I wanted parmesan chicken, linguini, french bread and caesar salad. When I got out and went to see the folks, there it was. I ate until my heart was content and cried a little as I thanked mamacita. I'll never forget that one.

 

[Gizzmotick]

Two of my most memorable happened the same summer while at an internship at the Los Alamos National Labs in New Mexico ten years ago. I think I remember the meals more for the story surrounding them than the meal iteself... but the food was damn good.

First: I had gone mountain biking with several of the other interns on a Saturday... a grueling climb up the side of this mountain. If I recall correctly, the climb up took us a little over 4 and half hours... constantly uphill. The ride down... well that was only abotu 45 minutes. Anyhow, we went into Old Town Santa Fe... and to this little Pizza place called Il Vicino. MMMMMmmmmmm Brick oven cooked pizza topped just the way you want it... perfectly spiced... WOW is it great. Every time I'm back in Santa Fe, I always try to stop there.

Second: The intern I was dating wanted to go check out the VLA (Very Large Array) Radio Telescope. We drove to Albequerque on a Friday evening, got a room... and crashed. Saturday, we drove down to Socorro and up US 60 to the VLA. The last town you pass through, there is a little greasy-spoon restraunt that was crowded with tow trucks and delivery trucks when we drove past. We toured the VLA... cool place, highly recommended... and then stopped at that diner on our way back to I-25. I had a patty melt sandwich that was utterly to die for. No other place I have ever eaten has served a sandwich so delicious.... and I've tried quite a few.

 

[Emerald_Dragon]

Mine would have to be the first meal I had with my husband after we got married.

The wedding was at noon. We had a great outdoor family reunion style reception (we were married in a flower garden). When we hit the hotel we had incredible mind blowing sex and then realized that we were both starving!! Most of the leftovers had gone to my sister's house (she lived local). So we got dressed again and went out for pizza at a local sports bar. That is one meal I will never forget. I don't think that I have ever flirted and teased a man so much in my life. Footsie is fun! My husband and I stilll haven't broken the record for as much sex in 24 hours although we have come close.

 

[JagFarlane]

One meal I'll always remember was at an italian restaurant, Isle of Capri, in Virginia Beach.

It was the weekend after Easter, and my mother, for the first time since I'd joined [3+ years prior at that point], had made her first solo drive down to see me. Its about a 6 or so hour drive from NJ, something that usually, was up to me to drive if I wanted to see my parents. So anyways, knowing it was my moms first time down, I was rather excited and decided to treat her to her favorite type of meal, Italian food. The restaurant was part of the hotel [ya gotta love offseason rates...], and right on the beach, overlooking the ocean.
We went up there, were seated, and soon met, I can honestly say, the best waiter I have ever met, polite, attentive, yet not overbearing, and very professional. Its a water or wine restaurant, no soda or iced tea etc, and I promptly ordered a bottle of viogner [sp?]. My mother, hadn't drank in years [stepfather was an alcoholic so she didn't drink around him], but always had been one for a good wine. LOL she was about to just ask for water when he poured her a glass so she shrugged and just decided to go with it. The restaurant had a nice pace to it, good timing, but yet long enough to really savor the restaurant. We were there for over 2 hours, Mom had, what she called, the best veal she'd ever had, lol ate a ton more than she was used to, and of course, got tipsy off a glass and a half of wine hehe. When all was said and done, bout I think $140 later, she could honestly say that it had to be one of the best times going out to eat she'd ever had. Just sitting down, talking for hours on end, excellent food, and of course, a very good waiter.

Hehe though its funny, Mom still doesn't drink because of my stepdad...but its now becoming a yearly tradition that once a year she visits, and I take her to a nice restaurant, and get a bottle of wine. LOL this year, I think she talked so much about enjoying how relaxed she gets after her glass or two, that my stepdad told her "I don't mind if you go out with the girls and get a drink or two. In fact, I think it really may do you some good."

 

[SeaCat]

My wife and I had just moved to Florida. We had been living in a tent in a local campground for two months. We had finally found jobs and had arranged for an apartment. We moved in, everything we owned had been packed in the back of the van. We didn't have electricity yet and our money was down to nothing. I think we might have had ten dollars to our name. (Our credit cards were maxed out.) I had walked down to the grocery stopre and prowled the day old bins, picking up what we could afford.

We had a feast that night, my wife and I. Flat bread made from flour and water fried in a pan. Chicken that had passed it's expiration date and a can of baked beans. I flavored the chicken with some old Onion, Garlic and Peppers. The same with the Baked Beans. (I also added some Bacon to the Baked Beans, we dipped the Pan Bread in the Bacon Grease.)

Talk about a feast of Kings and Queens. We were now living in a place with a roof over our heads. The power would be turned on in a day or two and we had jobs. What more could we ask for?

Another meal I remember was when I was camping with my father in the Northwest. We had run out of food the day before we came across a line cabin. The guys there had a Rasher of Bacon as well as a bag of Beans. We stopped there for the night.

Well these guys had been soaking some beans for the day and they were about ready, My father cut thick slices off the Rasher as well as some pieces of fat.

He hung the thick slices over the coals to cook even as he started cooking the beans. To the beans he added some wild onions as well as the fat. We sat outside under the stars in the cold and ate that bacon and the beans. Talk about heaven.

Cat

 

[Stella_Omega]

The outdoors realy does something to food!

I still remember a breakfast that I ate when I was about twelve; my family were camping in Yosemite Valley. The guy in the next camp made oatmeal. My parents had never put butter in the oatmeal before-- I thought I was in heaven! (well, I was, pretty much-- Yosemite, after all...)

Jag-- I like to give my mother a glass of vino too!

 

[SlickTony]

Just out of curiosity, Shakti Dreamer, what was so horrid about the food? One doesn't expect it to be haute cuisine, of course, but how bad was it? Reason I asked, I have a friend who's been in jail since last July (long story) and he gained weight there. He's intelligent and well-read though somewhat self-educated as far as the liberal arts are concerned, and I think he must have eaten what was there out of sheer boredom. They transferred him to a place where he could run and walk outdoors, and he's trying his damnedest to run some of the extra poundage off before he's sprung at the end of the month. One thing he told me that I thought was just scandalous was that the guys only got one orange a week. Like I said, you can't expect the very best in jail, but THIS IS FLORIDA, FER CHRISSAKE! CITRUS COUNTRY! I mean, WTF is up with that?

Let's see, memorable meals...

In 1971, my first husband and I went with some members of his family to this chelo kebab place in Tehran. Chelo kebab is grilled lamb, usually served on top of a mound of piping hot rice which you bury a lump of butter, and then pour a raw egg yolk over the rice. Then you stir it up so that the butter and the yolk are all mixed up in the rice. Then you sprinkle this stuff called somagh over the top. It's some kind of spice--it might be some variety of sumac, maybe a berry? It's kind of tart and the rice really isn't complete without it. You eat this along with the lamb. This place was a real hole-in-the-wall kind of place and it was literally underground. You had to descend a short flight of stairs from the street to get to it. That was the most delicious chelo kebab I'd ever had. I had chelo kebab in other restaurants, but it never seemed quite as delicious as that first time. When I returned to the States, this being back in the days when the grocery stores ran lamb sales where the lamb was actually cheap enough so's you'd notice, I'd buy lamb and throw it in the freezer. When I had enough of it, I'd marinate it in a mixture of lemon juice and onions grated to slush for several hours. Then I'd grill it. It wasn't a bad approximation of that first chelo kebab meal. Course if I could afford to buy the tenderloin, or whatever it's called on lamb, it would be even better.

I was a Girl Scout from Brownies to--what rank was it? They've changed them since I was in the organization. It used to be Brownies, Juniors, Cadets and Seniors, and I stayed in it till about the 8th grade. We used to go on camping trips, and my mother was heavily involved in scouting, as a leader, a co-leader or volunteer parent. Understand that this was in southeast Texas, and my mother, who was from the north, had not gotten over being appalled by the conditions she found there. Anyway, she decided to try to elevate the gastronomical tastes of the troop by providing planked snapper. I don't think she had ever cooked planked snapper before, and certainly not while camping out in the woods. It ultimately came out delicious, but it took longer than she'd anticipated. It was dark when it was finally ready, and I don't think it was supposed to be. Well, you can imagine what the reaction of the other girls was. Anybody who grew up in southeast Texas during the 50s and 60s can understand that planked snapper was something for which a troop of subteen girls who'd been there all their short lives and never been anywhere else, was simply not prepared. More for me. Damn, it was good. Even the part that got ashes in it was good.

When I was newly pregnant with my son, my husband and I went down to New Orleans for some reason--it was some business of his, I forget which, it probably had to do with him trying to get a job which would get us out of Vidalia, LA--and we ate at this mall they'd built where the World's Fair had been. I had a Virgin Mary and oysters Rockefeller. Yes, oysters Rockefeller. In a Food Court! I'd never had them before, and haven't had them since, so I had nothing to compare them with. I just thought they were delicious. I didn't even mind that much when they repeated later on--they still tasted good.

When my daughter graduated from college for the first time--when she got her BA at LSU--we all went to Juban's in Baton Rouge. I had seared tuna with this lemon and wine sauce which I have been trying to replicate ever since, with indifferent results.

 

[Belegon]

my last birthday... a wonderfully romantic setting and affair. Truly unforgettable.

 

[MaeveoSliabh]

heh... I remember Bel trying to take away the big-ass knife I was using to cut up a HUGE steak. Damn, was that a good cut of meat...

 

[oggbashan]

Chinatown, Soho, London in the 1960s.

My friend had been dating a Swiss nurse who was working in a London hospital and had booked a table for four for a Chinese meal. I was taking my then girl-friend.

Then the shit hit the fan. The Swiss nurse was contacted by her long-standing Swiss boyfriend who was coming to London for a conference. She decided to restart their relationship which had only stalled because of distance and my girlfriend ditched me.

My friend pulled out. If the Swiss nurse wanted her old flame he wasn't going to stand in the way. I would have pulled out too but I was providing the transport and paying for the meal. The nurse and her boyfriend were broke.

That night the weather was bad. It was raining very hard and blowing a gale. When we arrived at the restaurant there were only two occupied tables out of sixty. The nurse and her boyfriend had got past the stage of wrapping themselves around each other every few seconds but I still felt as if I was a gooseberry.

He had never eaten Chinese. She had. The restaurant was one of the best Chinese restaurants in London at that time. We arranged for small portions of almost every type of Chinese dish so that he, and we could experiment.

We had a wonderful evening sampling their specialities but confusing the staff. She was French-speaking Swiss. He was German-speaking Swiss. So she spoke French; he spoke German and I spoke English. We kept up a trilingual conversation, mainly about the food and the differences between rural Switzerland and 1960s London, for about three hours while we worked through the menu.

As I drove them back to his hotel they cuddled each other in the back of the car. By the time we reached the hotel he had proposed and she had accepted.

Now they are grandparents and on every wedding anniversary they have a Chinese meal.

Og