I had finished writing this in Istanbul but needed WiFi to add pictures. When we finally got good WiFi, I opened my iPad to the message “Your iPAd has been disabled.” Long story short, 5 days later, the Mac store in Launceston Tasmnia was able to restore functionality but not my blog. So here’s “take 2″…
With 4 weeks of food under our belts (literally), the freshness and quality have surprised us. Iceland and Tasmania have excelled in their preparation of fish in every form. In iceland, we sampled seafood bisque whenever we could. It was typically tomato based, and often flavored with either saffron or coconut. It was always steaming hot and laden with langustinos, whole mussels and/or shrimp. Tasmania’s version was more chowder-like–cream based with chunks of fish, potatoes and often just-caught “crays.”
Salmon is a staple in many parts of the world. We enjoyed it smoked, gravlax, tatare, grilled, poached and in sushi. Speaking of shushi, it has been consistently so fresh, we’ve expected it to flop off the plate. The Abu Dhabi version was drop dead beautiful–rows upon rows were displayed in vivid technicolor like miniature works of art.
Regional specialties were often offered, although we passed on the whale, puffin and reindeer offered in Iceland, the latter seemingly at odds with the popular Christmas song that played incessently in the backgroud. In Tasmania, oysters reign supreme. On our last night in Launceston, we had one of the best meals we’ve ever had, starting with tempura battered oysters that were just barely fried so they remained plump and juicy on the inside.
Lamb was also something we came across often and in many forms: loin, shank, rack and, in Turkey, minced and formed into meatballs.
Hot chocolate became a personal favorite during the colder portions of the trip. After a blizzardy morning walking in Reykjavik, we ducked into a small cafe called “Fish” (named, we suspect, for the decor, which consisted of dozens of plastic baggies–the kind pet stores use to transport goldfish–suspended from the ceiling. Any resident goldfish, thankfully, had long since been removed.) The hot chocolate at Fish tasted like melted bittersweet chocolate in a cup, made drinkable by folding in lightly sweetened freshly whipped cream and a touch of warm milk. The riverboat on which we travelled down the Danube managed to up the hot chocolate ante. On a frigid evening in Grein, Austria, they added a shot of Glenmorangie single malt scotch and a chocolate bonbon on a stick as a stirrer.
Germany was all about beer, bratwurst, Gluhwein (a hot mulled wine traditionally served at the Christmas markets), the ubiquitous weiner schnitzel, most typically served with crusty black bread, hot potato salad, braised red cabbage or roasted potatoes, and cucumber salad. We sampled Radlers (the German equivalent of an English shandy), ales, stouts and the famous St. Augustine beer, some of which were served in unconscionable 1-liter mugs. Andy was able to hold his own but, for me, the beer halls were all about the big doughy twisted pretzels and sweet grainy mustard served alongside. In Munich, the Anna Hotel also offered these for breakfast from a coatrack-type stand next to the croissants. (As an aside, the Anna also offered condoms–not for breakfast, of course, but in a little wooden box as part of its bathroom amenities selection. Never came across that before…).
A side note: Instead of providing paper cups for the Gluhwein, each vendor offered a ceramic cup with their “signature” design. The first cup was 5 euros, but refills were only 3.5 euros. This ensured multiple revenue sources–from the cup itself, and any refills (guaranteed to be made at that same vendor). Plus, it was ecologically responsible, gave tourists with room in their luggage a souvenir to take back home, and gave locals new cups to add to their collection each year. Now that is saavy marketing!
