About 66 years ago, I got my first taste of European travel when my father said, “We should instill culture in the children.” At the time, I was living in Greece with my parents and younger brother, and I was still in high school.
So my mother, a couple of her friends, and I embarked on an escorted summer trip to Austria and Germany departing from Piraeus by ship to Venice, spending a day in La Serenissima, then by “Pullman Bus” (as high-end motor coaches were called in Greece at the time) to Vienna over the Brenner Pass.
In Vienna, we stayed at the Imperial Hotel Wien for almost a week, attending operas at the Wiener Staatsoper – “Madame Butterfly” one night and “Tannhäuser” another, with Lehar’s “The Land of Smiles” operetta at the Volksoper Wien in between.
Frankly, except for “Tannhäuser,” I found the operas rather boring. But then, I was only 16 at the time. We also visited every palace that was open to the public and many of the palace gardens, plus art museums and other “interesting” city locations.
The only remembrance I have from the Imperial was some of the food at the hotel’s restaurants. At the time, even though my mother was considered one of the best home cooks in Athens, I was a miserable eater, surviving on only charcoal-grilled lamb chops and French fries (and very infrequently, a hardboiled egg).
But somehow, this was “different” food. I’d never had Wiener schnitzel before. The main restaurant at the Imperial offered a very tender and large schnitzel that almost overflowed the plate it was served on with a large patty of melty herbed compound butter on top.
The less formal restaurant of the hotel had a delicious “Assiette Anglaise,” which consists of cold cuts, including rare, thinly cut roast beef.
Most of the meat in Greece was either lamb or pork, and what was called “rosebif” (sic) was usually a slice of overcooked and leathery veal. In Vienna, besides the roast beef, the Assiette Anglaise had slices of ham, salami, chorizo, and other preserved meats, a cold chicken drumstick, pickled pimientos and cucumbers, and potato salad. When washed down with a cold beer, it was ambrosia!
The other thing I vividly remember from Vienna was visiting the Prater and the ride on the Riesenrad, the giant Ferris wheel.
I had recently seen the atmospheric black and white Orson Welles film, The Third Man, that, even though it was produced in 1949, was showing in Greek cinemas in 1955-56. The ferris wheel ride was one of the key scenes. I was hoping to be able to also see the Vienna sewer system as portrayed in the film, but no luck. The ride on the Prater Wheel was good enough for me, though. I spent the rest of the day whistling the theme from the The Third Man.
Another disappointment was the view of the “beautiful blue” Danube. To my eyes, it was neither blue nor beautiful!
From Vienna, we drove through Germany to Munich. My mother and her friends went shopping in Munich because they could get high-end products that, even at retail prices, were much cheaper in Germany than in Athens.
At the time, luxury products from outside Greece (even cosmetics were considered “luxury products” by the government) were very expensive because the Greek government imposed import duties from 200% to 500%. That was on top of the total cost, including freight and insurance. Therefore, large half-empty suitcases were our luggage during the trip.
When my mother went shopping, I was thrilled to be dropped off at Munich’s Deutsche Museum. It was, and I believe still is, one of the world’s preeminent science museums with a multitude of interactive exhibits plus a full scale model of a mine shaft in the basement.
Munich’s beer halls are some of Bavaria’s most famous establishments, operating for hundreds of years in the same locations, usually as part of a brewery. The beer is fresh, and the food simple and very traditional. Lots of wurst!
One of the young men on the trip was a brewmaster for a brewery in Athens. He had friends in Munich where he had studied beer-making. So I was invited to go with him when he met his German friends at the Hofbräuhaus, a local institution and tourist attraction. They serve traditional Bavarian food and beer in a festive atmosphere with an oompah band and all!
At the Hofbräuhaus, I had my first 2-liter beer mug and grilled bratwurst, bauernwurst, and other wurst with potato salad. Later on, during my European peregrinations, I returned to the Oktoberfest and had many more mugs.
Wurst is a key component of German national heritage. It incorporates more than 1,000 different varieties and includes not only sausages, but any type of smoked, cured, or preserved meat.
Another “exciting” activity while my mother was shopping was to wait for the Rathaus Glockenspiel at the town hall. The Marienplatz in front was full of tourists waiting for the clock to strike. Three times a day (11am, 12 noon, and 5 pm), 32 life-sized figures come to life in the 260-foot tower, reenacting scenes from Munich’s history.
You could also walk inside to the inner courtyard where there was a biergarten, visit the Ratkeller restaurant in the cellar, and climb the tower for a view of the square. As far as I know, this event still takes place daily in Munich!
We ate at the “Roter Huhn” restaurant – a tasty Sauerbraten, another first for me. When washed down with good Bavarian beer, it was another culinary revelation.
The return trip from Munich took us back through Salzburg and Vienna.
I don’t remember much of Salzburg, except for the hotel’s garden that was full of flowering hydrangeas. And the walk through the old town, where shops still sport exterior tin signs with images of what’s sold inside since most town residents were illiterate in medieval times.
On our return to Vienna, we stayed at the Hotel Sacher this time – the home of the famous Sacher Torte!
Its cafés and bars are a meeting place for artists, writers, politicians and heads of state. The sumptuous rooms were furnished with comfortable antique furniture and portraits of emperors and other important members of the Viennese high society hanging on the walls.
The hotel’s restaurants are still integral parts of Viennese culture. Anyone who is anyone will eat or drink there at one time or another.
Of course, that’s where the famous Sacher Torte was created – a piece of culinary delight that I made sure I had every day we stayed there, accompanied by lots of Schlag (unsweetened whipped cream).
Then, we headed back to Venice for another quick visit. We only stayed there overnight, as we boarded our ship for the return voyage the next afternoon. But I still made sure to have a cup of espresso at Café Florian, the famous pastry shop with tables in Piazza San Marco. Somehow, the square’s myriad pigeons never bother the people sitting at the piazza’s tables!
I haven’t been back to Munich since then. C’est la vie!
Manos Angelakis is one of the founders, the former Managing Editor for 25 years, the current Managing Editor Emeritus, and Senior Food & Wine Writer of LuxuryWeb Magazine. He is an accomplished travel writer, photographer, and food and wine critic based in Hackensack, New Jersey. As a travel writer, he has written extensively about numerous cities and countries. Manos has also been certified as a Tuscan Wine Master and has traveled to wine-producing areas in order to evaluate firsthand the product of top-rated vineyards. In the past year, he has visited and written multiple articles about Morocco, Turkey, Quebec City, Switzerland, Antarctica, and most recently the South of France. Articles in other publications include Vision Times and Epoch Times.
0 Comments