Potato, tomato…

I was mentioning that eating out was dangerous for my new low carb diet. Well, this week I’m in Germany, living only on restaurant meals. Avoiding carbs in the country of potatoes and spätzle  is quite tricky, but not impossible.

Luckily, the hotel provides a nice buffet breakfast and a wide range of roasted and steamed vegetables for lunch. I had to tell people I’m training a lot and eating accordingly, otherwise I couldn’t explain the massive pile of cured meat, cheese, eggs, sausages and meatballs that I eat in the morning.

Dinners are a bit of a pain though. German people seem fluent in English, but they don’t understand shit of what you say. On the first evening, I told the waitress I didn’t want any potatoes with my steak and she explained my order to the cook (who was Italian, btw) in a very elaborate manner. All I could understand from her speech was the word Tomaten, which had nothing to do with what I asked. I had to spell it out: steak, salad!  The meal was good, eventually.

The second story happened at an Italian pizzeria. I understand Italian, but I’m incapable to speak it. I don’t speak/understand German. The waiter knew about two words in English. The English menu hadn’t been updated in ages and it didn’t match the German version. I was dying to get some veal with chanterelles since february. I asked about the side dish and mentioned I didn’t want any noodles. His answer:”No mushroom? OK!” “Nooo, mushroom OK!!”, I cried in despair. Then I spent the next 20 min or so wondering wether he understood that I do want the mushroom, I want them very much! Meanwhile, I had to tell the people at the table about my previous adventures and the source of my paranoia. They offered me pizza, since it was anyway healthier than the noodles and potato salad I was about to receive. And then…then… this was brought to my table:

And I wanted to cry of joy because it looked 100 times better than my greatest expectations. I would’ve preferred the meat slightly grilled, it was rather simmered in wine sauce, but it was tender and tasty. The chanterelles were there, in plain sight, firm and perfect, not some soggy defrosted mush. And the plate was covered in delicious courgettes and aubergines with soft cherry tomatoes. Heaven!!

Someone ordered salmon. I didn’t try it, but I’m sure it was great. It looked amazing, that’s for sure.

Tonight things went smoothly. The waiter, presumably Italian, spoke English very well. I insisted on saying “kein Kartoffeln, ein Salat” but it felt pointless. I had a nice pink steak with some lettuce.

Ah, I’ve heard someone claiming they won’t get fat because they ate a baked potato instead of fries. They didn’t believe me when I smiled devilishly saying: “Oh, you will get fat…!!”

In conclusion, eating healthy food in a restaurant might be a bit of a hassle when the dishes are fixed and you need to make adjustments. Not knowing the local language is also a tremendous problem. I think learning Italian might pay off, though.

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