A Night on the Town

"Nothing would be more tiresome than eating and drinking if God had not made them a pleasure as well as a necessity."  ~Voltaire

April 18, 2013 (Continued)

We decided to “go downtown” for dinner tonight to a restaurant in Zurich that served German and Swiss dishes. We talked about getting fondue, and Mary said they should have it.

“It’s different than American fondue,” Mary said. “The melted cheese, is melted cheese. It’s not the fancy stuff they make in America.”

“You actually have to drink a lot of water when you eat it, because they worry about it congealing and forming a cheese ball in your intestines,” Dale explained.

The drive into Zurich was about half an hour. Will and Cole showed me their Legos in the backseat as we drove passed the lake and through little thickets of trees. In town, we drove by the train station and a few of the shops we’d seen yesterday.

As we passed a few parking lots, Mary pointed out the electronic signs over the lot.

“It tells you exactly how many spaces are left,” she explained. “There is a sensor at each space, sometimes with a  little light over the space, and when a car parks there, the number drops and the light changes from green to red. When you drive through parking garages and such, you just look for the lights instead of winding around to find spots. It’s super-efficient.”

We drove by several lots and didn’t find anything. It was starting to sprinkle again so Dale dropped us off in front of the restaurant and went to park the car.

“This place is really good!” Mary said. She, Cole, Will, and I went in to get a table.

When we walked in, the little wood paneled room was warm and crowded. People were chattering away and a waitress dressed in a festive, flowing dress and apron was floating about. She was probably in her sixties or so, and appeared to be mostly speaking German.

“Yes?” she said, when she saw us standing and surveying the crowded room.

“Five,” Mary said, holding out her hand full of fingers.

“Is not possible tonight,” the waitress said. “Need reservations.”

“Oh,” Mary said. “Thank you.”

We went back outside.

“There’s another good little Swiss restaurant across the street,” Mary said. We walked over another little place. This one was closed.

“Well,” she said thinking for a second. “Let’s wait for Dale.” We went under a canopy of a jewelry shop to wait out of the rain. When Dale walked up, Mary whistled at him to keep him from going into the restaurant. He turned and saw us huddling under the shelter and came over.

“We need reservations,” Mary said. “The other place is closed.”

“Oh really?” Dale said. “That’s odd.”

“Do you want to try the steak house?” Mary asked.

“Sure that will work,” he said.

“Just tell Bryan and your family that we tried to get Swiss food,” Mary said, as we started up the side streets.

We passed Heidi again on our way into town.

The restaurant we went to was excellent, not at all an “American” steakhouse. The people that owned it were from Argentina and they import all of their beef from South America. After checking our coats, we took a seat at a booth in the back. Mary recommended a dish called “bife de lobo” and I ordered that. As an appetizer, we shared a Carpaccio and for sides we split a few orders of French fries and spinach.

No exaggeration, the steak was the best steak I’ve ever eaten. Cooked just a little bit medium rare, it was totally pink in the center. Each bite was so tender, it made my tongue tingle. The spinach too was awesome. Not too salty, but not too bitter either. Of course, fries were a nice treat too.

As soon as they finished eating, both Cole and Will fell asleep in the booth. We sat around for a while talking and laughing. When it came time to leave, Mary and Dale wrestled the boys awake and after we picked up our coats, we walked to the car.

Walking through the shops again, a handbag in a window caught Mary’s eye. She called us over and pointed it out. “How much do you think it is?” she asked.

Dale looked at the prices in the window. All of the items on the mannequin were listed on a little plaque at her feet.

“I don’t know the German word for handbag, and the only word I don’t know on there is ‘tasche,’” Dale explained.  “The tasche is 3500 francs.”

“What!?!” Mary explained.

Dale pulled out his phone and looked it up. Sure enough, tasche meant handbag.

“Well, what can I say?” Mary said. “I have good taste!”

We continued to laugh and joke the whole drive home. By the time we pulled into the garage, my sides hurt form laughing so hard. Mary and Dale put the kids to bed, while I checked my email and then met them up in the kitchen. We had a few slices of the truffle cake for dessert, while we continued laughing and talking about Europe. We did check the news for a Boston update, but didn’t see any new developments.

Since it was close to midnight, we decided it was time to turn in. We said good night, and I headed downstairs. I journaled for a bit, but quickly fell asleep.