Alex had to work Thursday so I took myself off into town, to see if my wits and VERY basic German can still get by in a strange country. Managed to not get lost, and found the place I was looking for – tucked behind opulent Staatsoper (Opera house), lies the decadent Hotel Sacher, where ‘Sacher torte’ was invented...
Disaster! The cafe was closed for a private function!! Not having a spare 35 euros ($A60) for an entree sized pumpkin and truffle risotto (the cheapest thing on the Sacher Restaurant menu), I wandered about til I found a pub, an Irish pub, no less, where zuccini and paprika soup, and a pint, set me back the princely sum of 6.80 euros (about $A10.50). I'm loving this exchange rate (an Aussie dollar now buys about 62 euro cents, well up on the 50c or so when I was here three years ago. Yay.)
As for Sacher, I found a postcard with a recipe for making it, in the Staatsoper shop, but it's no substitute. I'm going back there Saturday...
Met Alex after work at the Nachtsmarket, where all the Viennese chefs buy their ingredients from. They were the best looking vegies and most diverse range of foods I’ve ever seen anywhere in europe – even in major cities you struggle to find even basic ‘ethnic’ foods like soy sauce, curry paste, or couscous. Don’t even bother searching in supermarkets. Yes, really. Mind you, when places do a schnitzel and mash the way Viennese do (its not called 'Wiener' schnitzel for nothing!) who wants couscous?
Had dinner last night at an awesomely massive underground beer-and-wine hall in the cellars of a house built in 1339. Wine comes in 250mL tankards, beer in steins, and most dishes are around $A10 - my goulash (lots of hungarian influences here, 'cos the Austrian Hapsburg empire included all of Hungary for centuries) was so fabulously stewed it almost fell off the fork. Live music (broadway hits played on squeezebox and guitar – very rustic!) was free. These vast, cavernous places are dotted all over Vienna and this one, called the 12 Apostles, is GORGEOUS, complete with 'toilet madam', one of those lonely looking older women who sit at a table all day collecting 20c from everyone each time they take a leak, and keeping the facilities clean and tidy. Sadly, my camera battery was dead, so no pix... grrr... until I went back on Saturday to snap this rather unglam self portrait. But you can see how gorgeous the cellar is. We got rather merry over a couple of wines before staggering home, so I could call the lovely Anthony. He was sleepy, and lovely, and I miss him lots and wish he was here to share this adventure with me...
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