7/2/12
The best food in Europe at the moment has got to be in Vienna. Nothing that I have eaten so far can be compared to the cuisine I experienced in this city.
Yesterday morning the train from Zurich arrived into Wien Westbahnhof station at 7:32 am. This time I slept in a six person couchette cabin. Luckily there were only three other inhabitants. An older German woman and two British girls backpacking across Europe. The train was a lot better than the overnighter I took from Rome. The a/c was colder and the bed was a tad better. Perpetual swaying of the train car did some to put me to sleep so I spent most of the ride sliding in and out of consciousness. At 6:30 this morning I was woken by the rough German voice of the train porter waving my Eurail pass in my face. Still groggy, tired, and pissed off that I was woken in such a manner I grudgingly waited for my complimentary breakfast.
Train companies can take a note or two from the customer service of airlines. The complimentary breakfast consisted of coffee and a roll with butter and jam. After consuming everything on the platter, my stomach desired more.
I mentioned something about the hearty meal to the hungarian woman in our car. Earlier I wrote that she was German, but actually she is from Hungary and works in Switzerland. Anyways we got to talking about absolutely nothing at all. She was visiting a long time friend in Vienna I was told, and I told her that I was only going to be there for one night. I asked her recommendation on place I must visit while I was in the city. She rattled off a dozen places or so, that I immediately forgot about, that's why I have "Europe on a Shoe String" as my companion. What type of food is really good to eat in the city?, I asked. Her eyes lit up and a single familiar word escaped between her lips: schnitzel. Ahh yes the famous deep fried concoction. I was saving my schnitzel tasting for Germany but she was so animated about this one particular type of schnitzel that I felt almost obligated to try it. There was only one problem, she couldn't remember the name of the restaurant which served it. That did not deter her from finding out the name of it though. This lady went up and down the car asking everybody in German if they knew the name until she returned with it. On a scrap of paper she had one word written down, Fieglmuller.
Our train arrived on time, something that starkly differentiates the Swiss trains from that of Italy and France. The Do Step In Hostel was a short two blocks from the train station. I was excited to check in and catch up on some sleep, and then do a little bit of sightseeing.
Sleep would have to wait until after 3 pm however. The mid afternoon check in was a real Debbie downer considering I have a blister developing on my foot that might be infected. It just hurts really bad to walk around on it for extended periods of time, which is what i was doing for the rest of the day. Great.
Thankfully I was able to store my bag in the luggage locker. Also the hostel had computers with free internet use. I read up on Isaiah's gun charge, the medicare Supreme Court decision, and checked my email. It felt good to be in touch with the outside world once again.
The roll for breakfast did not suffice and my belly was once again begging for some hearty goodness. Fieglmuller, I must taste your sumptuous schnitzel. The restaurant was a decent walk from the hostel and it seemed like a great way to work up an ever craving appetite.
On the way into town I cruised by the Museum Quartier, Hapsburg Palace and gardens, and the Stephansdom. A religious service was occurring when I walked into the Stephansdom. Oh yeah, it was Sunday. From the back of the church everything looked cool. I would have stuck arouind for longer but I had a date with destiny.
My arrival at Fieglmuller was before the proper opening time of 11, yet one other pilgrim was outside the Mecca of Schnitzel. Eyeing the man, he appeared slender and of some Asian race, yet a determination burned in his eyes for a taste of the schnitzel. I gave him a short, polite not. Each knew the other meant business.
Being the first two patrons on a beautiful Sunday before the church crowd was dismissed we had top picks on seating, yet both sat in the same room. The waiter handed me a menu but I already knew what I wanted. The world famous Fieglmuller Schnitzel was all that was on my mind. Although I did take the waiter's recommendation and ordered a side of potato salad. The pilgrim had only the schnitzel.
A short while later the waiter appeared with what I had been hoping to consume for the past 4 hours. The schnitzel was unlike anything I had ever seen before. The thin, fried patty was spilling over the plate it sat atop, bending but never touching the table. It's diameter alone had to be ten plus inches. A quarter lemon wedge lay on top of the world renown dish, complimented by a hearty bowl of potato salad with greens on top.
For a moment I sat in awe and disbelief. Looked over at the pilgrim, gave him another nod, and went to work. The lemon wedge helped moisten the dry, fried patty but it was the potato salad that really saved me from cotton mouth.
Slow and steady was the strategy for tackling what I dubbed the Schnitzel Challenge. Using the potato salad, my technique involved layering a piece of green on top of some potato, and using a slice of schnitzel to support the structure. Every bite was an orgasmic explosion of schnitzel complimented with the vinegar based flavor of the salad. Not having potato salad, my nameless pilgrim took to cutting pizza shaped slices and shoveling them into his mouth. Poor guy, his stomach will never expand at that kind of consumption rate.
Alas, all good things must come to an end. Save for the lemon wedge, the place and salad bowl were laying on the table clean of any remnant of a meal. I glanced over at the pilgrim still working to finish his schnitzel. Do not stop my friend, the end is near, and soon you shall feel the satisfaction of completing the Schnitzel Challenge!
With a solid three more hours to kill I perused through "Shoe String" for things to do. The Hapsburg Palace was the book's top choice. As the seat of the Austria-Hungary empire the palace consisted of over 1400 rooms and rivaled the Versailles in Paris.
My student ID bought me a ticket to the silver room, Sisi museum, and royal apartments, for 9.50 euro with an audio guide included. 26 is the age I figure when my student ID will become obsolete. Until then I will milk it for every discount possible.
The silver room displayed the dishware the royal family used for every occasion during their rule. It was interesting to see how tastes changed over time and what the royal family favored. A set of dishes existed for every occasion, formal or informal. Much of the gold and silver dishware no longer existed because it was melted at some point to pay for a war. The most spectacular item was the gold centerpiece used for formal affairs. It must have been over 30 feet long, gilt in gold with ornate metal work performed by Vienna's best smiths.
The next feature of my Hapsburg visit was the Sisi Museum. Sisi was the nickname of Empress Elizabeth, wife of Emperor Franz Joseph. She was later assassinated by an Italian anarchist.
Elizabeth was betrothed to Joseph at a very early age in her life. She came from a well to do family and it was a bit of a surprise when the Emperor asked for her hand in marriage. In today's terms, it would be like if a young billionaire mogul proposed to an Atlanta private school girl. At least that's what I have in mind. Which goes along with my impression of Elizabeth as her story unfolds to me via audio guide.
So Elizabeth marries Joseph in a royal fancy wedding, but Sisi is unhappy. She's not used to all the pomp associated with being royalty. Tough life she has being the first woman of an empire. Her poems reflect how she doesn't want all the attention and her desire to be someone else. Eventually she comes down with these "illnesses" that force her to relocate to different palaces all over the empire. Madeira, Budapest, Florence, and Prague just to name a few are places she built palaces so as to recover from her "illnesses". Prozac and barbiturates did not exist at this time so I suppose these vacations are the next best alternative.
Over time she becomes more distant with her hubby and they eventually live in separate apartments inside the Hapsburg. She spends 2 to 3 hours each day having her ankle length hair did and then another two hours exercising. I don't want to call her self absorbed, but I am. Sisi couldn't have it any better yet she was always unhappy or so that's what the museum implied.
The royal apartments were a walk through of where the separated couple lived. It was nice and all, very...royal. At that point i was ready to check in to my room and as luck would have it, it was 3 pm.
The six bed room had no a/c and a single fan which sat on a desk and oscillated to provide circulation of still air. I fell asleep in a sweaty mess and dreamed of strange, forgettable instances.
I awoke in the evening with some time to kill before the Spain/Italy final. The receptionist circled the Bermuda Triangle on my map as a good place to watch the game. I consumed a kabap box on my way down to find a spot. Kebap has run its course in my diet and I will not be sad to say goodbye to it once I return to the States.
A fast food Asian restaurant was showing the match and they had outside seating too. A table cleared up and I immediately snagged it. Some time after Spain's first goal a man walked up and asked if he could sit with me.
Omar is an Egyptian from Cairo studying business at American University in Cairo. He was on vacation with his family and needed some time away from them to enjoy the game, I know how that goes at times.
Having recently read Egypt elected a new president, I was curious to hear his opinion. Egypt is fucked, or so he surmised. He fears the Muslim Brotherhood backed Mosni will make things worse for his country and dreads the day Shariah law is imposed. Omar is a practicing Muslim, but not devout. He prays and reads the Koran, yet likes to drink alcohol when he can. Oh yeah, and he loves drugs too. Hash is his primary choice when it comes to dabbling, but if he's going clubbing then ecstasy pills are a must. Besides cigarettes, hash is widely smoked throughout Egypt. His parents do not know that he drinks and if they found out they would be pissed off big time. That's why he likes hanging out with his uncle, the party animal. Uncle likes to go to the clubs and party hard. Although he doesn't drink because of his faith, he still smokes hash and pops E. To each their own vice I suppose.
Omar does not wish to live in Egypt after he finishes college. The protests which toppled the regime of Hosni Mubarak led to the election of a man who represents interests which are contradictory to the genesis of the situation. In his opinion, the Muslim Brotherhood took advantage of the power vacuum and stepped in to further their own agenda. He also thinks the naqib is a stupid and cruel custom and is adamantly opposed to Shariah. I respect his liberal, progressive thinking in a society deeply rooted in religious tradition.
We parted ways after Spain's victory. I told him to call me if he ever visited the U.S. Likewise, he said the same. With my skin color, not anytime soon, I said. We both had a good hard laugh.
7/3/12
This morning I planned on sleeping in and giving my feet a rest. The alarm of the Chinese guest said otherwise. At 6 am one of the more annoying alarms I have heard went off. Everyone in the room except the person who set it was awake. When she finally did awake, she got the stink eye from several people before figuring out how to turn it off.
My mom sent me an email mentioning a dessert she ate when she was visiting Europe in the 80s. Sucre torte she thought it was called, but it was world famous at the time and her sister and she had to wait a solid 30 to taste it. "Shoe String" had recommended trying Sacher Torte at Cafe Sacher. Famous for over 175 years for their apricot based chocolate delight, I was thinking this had to be the place.
Cafe Sacher was a short 30 minute walk away, across from the Albertina Museum. On the way I grabbed a slice of 'zza for 3 euro. The massive piece slaked my hunger for the moment but it was dessert I truly desired. And it did not disappoint.
You know you are in a good restaurant when everybody has the same thing on their table. Sacher Torte with whipped cream on the side with a glass of water to wash it down. It was a good way to end a short trip to Vienna.
I caught the 2:33 train out of Vienna to Prague, landing me in the city sometime around 7:30. The time of raging with Matt Kelly is near.
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