It's been a bad week for writing, so here's just a smattering of unedited food pictures:
Lori and I ordered the sausage and cheese plate for the table:
IMG_2557 by
Ralph Melton, on Flickr
GeoNit ordered the calamari:
IMG_2558 by
Ralph Melton, on Flickr
The bread basket, with Max's relish.
IMG_2559 by
Ralph Melton, on Flickr
buffetbuster's einlauf soup.
IMG_2560 by
Ralph Melton, on Flickr
My hassenpfeffer. I haven't had hassenpfeffer for many years. I quite liked the flavor, particularly the flavor of the red wine sauce. I did not care for the many small bones, though.
IMG_2561 by
Ralph Melton, on Flickr
Lori's roast pork with peas and a potato pancake. Sadly, we forgot our leftovers.
IMG_2563 by
Ralph Melton, on Flickr
lleechef's sausage platter:
IMG_2565 by
Ralph Melton, on Flickr
Kenny Joe's weisswurst, spaetzle, applesauce:
IMG_2566 by
Ralph Melton, on Flickr
Mariton's shrimp and scallops, German potato salad and potato pancake.
IMG_2567 by
Ralph Melton, on Flickr
Mariton and buffetbuster shared the Black Forest Cake:
IMG_2568 by
Ralph Melton, on Flickr
Lori and I each had a piece of the lemon cream cheese pie. It was luscious and not cloyingly sweet, with an excellent shortbread crust. We should have shared a piece instead of each having our own.
IMG_2569 by
Ralph Melton, on Flickr
IMG_2571 by
Ralph Melton, on Flickr
From the conversation, I particularly remembered Kenny Joe telling us of his son's efforts to conquer a Man vs. Food-style challenge to eat fifteen dozen oysters at Acme Oyster House. It reminded me of this anecdote from Brillat-Savarin's
The Physiology of Taste, which I've been reading recently:
ANECDOTE In 1798 I was at Versailles as a commissary of the Directory, and frequently met M. Laperte, greffier of the count of the department. He was very fond of oysters, and used to complain that he had never had enough. I resolved to procure him this satisfaction, and invited him to dine with me on the next day. He came. I kept company with him to the tenth dozen, after which I let him go on alone. He managed to eat thirty-two dozen within an hour for the person who opened them was not very skilful. In the interim, I was idle, and as that is always a painful state at the table, I stopped him at the moment when he was in full swing. "Mon cher," said I, "you will not to-day eat as many oysters as you meant—let us dine." We did so, and he acted as if he had fasted for a week.
<message edited by Ralph Melton on Tue, 05/24/11 5:33 PM>