I'm pretty sure I've told you about the Baron’s restaurant before, we’ve eaten here a couple of times, my sister has even been known to work here. Unlike the Sebenschuh’s Stube just up the road, the Schloss is mostly about offering new world cuisine to its customers. The Baron isn’t into the whole food as art thing either – oh it looks good on the plate but you get a proper serving, real world portions so whilst it’s not cheap eating here, you do at least feel fed afterwards.

We entered the ‘atmospheric’ interior, read dark, by the low buzz it sounded pretty busy.

"Ah, you’re here,” Wilhelm greeted as he headed towards us, "Gaby, nice to see you again.”
"Er thanks and you.”
"Come, come, we’re over in the corner,” he enthused.

My eyes finally adjusted to the low light and my first impression was confirmed, pretty much all the tables were occupied by diners, we were the subject of some attention – I guess even if you can afford the Baron’s prices dining with the ‘landed classes’ is something you can’t exactly buy. At the table Max did the chair business for me while his dad did Gloria.

"Right, I'll just sort some drinks and I'll join you.”

 
Sorry Dad, well I could hardly say no when Wilhelm poured me a glass of wine could I?

"Welcome to the wonderful world of catering, Gaby,” the Baron proposed.
"A snack bar is hardly in the same world as this place, Sir.”
"We’ve told you before, it’s Wilhelm and Gloria, and I beg to differ, your kiosk is very much like the restaurant. You provide a service, food and drink, somewhere for people to meet and talk, the clientele might be different but you are just as valid.”
"They come to the kiosk for quick and cheap – we’re not having currywurst for dinner are we?”

Well that attracted some universal mirth. I sipped at my wine, keep it slow, Gab, you don’t want it going to your head.

"So erm, what are we eating?” I enquired.
"Yes, Willy, what are we eating, you’ve been avoiding saying all day,” Gloria added.
"Well to honour our guest I thought we’d have English.”
"Dad,” Max groaned.
"Perhaps Gaby has enough English food at home,” Gloria put in.

Wilhelm looked slightly crestfallen.

"It’s fine, honest we don’t do that much English at home, the odd roast when Mum’s home, so what’re we having?”
"Well we’ve got the Oxtail soup to start then steak and kidney pudding and your sister’s summer pudding with vanilla sauce .”
"Whoa, now that’s top stuff, not had any of that for ages,” I enthused.

As if on cue, Anton, the head waiter guy arrived with our soup.

 
I'm not a great lover of oxtail, it’s often a bit rich for my taste but Wilhelm’s version wasn’t too bad if a mite salty. I wouldn’t’ve minded some bread with it but the German’s don’t seem to go for that like the Brits do. Not sure Gloria was particularly keen, Max, well he’ll eat anything and Wilhelm, I guess he’d made it to his taste anyhow.

"How am I doing?” von Strechau senior requested as we waited for the next course.
"Er.”
"Truth now,” Gloria told me.
"Well it was maybe a bit salty?”
"Pah, I thought so too,” he admitted, "It seemed a little bland.”
"I think Mum puts some relish in,” I suggested.
"The Worcester sauce?”
"Er no, Hendo’s , it’s like special stuff from Sheffield.”
"That the brown stuff we had on the potato and meat pie the other week, Gab?” Max enquired.

What could be more North Midlands than meat and tatty pie with Hendo’s, classic?

"Uh huh,” I confirmed, "We’ve usually got some indoors. I'll check if you like?”
"That would be excellent,” Wilhelm grinned.

 
Steak and kidney pud isn’t really summer food but I wasn’t about to complain – it’s one of my favourites. I prefer the suet to be ‘wet’, often in restaurants it’s too dry, almost like heavy pastry, when it arrived at table I was delighted to see it was at my preferred end of the range. He’d cooked it very traditionally, steamed in cloth which added to the excitement of its arrival.

Proper mash, peas, carrots – hmm, he’d even managed a passable gravy.

"More wine, Gab?” Max offered.
"Could I get lemonade instead?” Well wine doesn’t really go with S & K pudding does it?
"Coming up,” he advised making to get up.
"Stay,” the Baron instructed signalling instead for Anton to attend.

I took my time eating, concentrating on the pudding and with the promise of a real pudding to follow I finished up with some mash still on the plate. A rare happening indeed!

"Good?”
"Good,” I agreed, sitting back into my chair to ease my stomach
"Not sure where you put it, young lady,” Gloria opined, her own plate retaining a significant part of her meal.
"I've not eaten since breakfast.” Apart from a slice of Schwarzwald with my coffee at lunchtime but that doesn’t count, does it?

 
By mutual consent we paused before desert. Of course it’s a bit weird when you’re with someone’s parents, stuff you maybe would’ve talked about are out so it can get a bit stilted.
"We’ve got your rocks from the Bank, Gaby,” Gloria advised.
"Rocks?”
"Your necklace and earrings dear,” she explained.
"Er right, um thank you.”

The Baron had of course excused himself temporarily to play ‘mine host’ with his paying customers, I think to avoid this awkwardness.

"Well we must look our best, eh?” Gloria pursued.
"Er yes,” I agreed, suddenly self conscious of my appearance, especially my candyfloss pink hair.
"So where’re you racing tomorrow?” Max enquired.

Good question, I wasn’t really listening when Dad was on about it earlier.

"Some sort of Chipper near Düsseldorf.”
"Chipper?” Gloria queried.
"Erm, it’s sort of like a local race, the prizes are usually donated by local shops and stuff, back in England that could be like the local takeaway, um chip shop, so you could win like fish and chips.”
"Or currywurst?” Max offered.
"Er yeah, that sort of thing,” I agreed.
"Interesting idea,” Gloria allowed.
"They’re usually hotly contested, very aggressive.”
"You sure that's wise, with the wedding coming up?”
"No one wants to get hurt,” I pointed out, "It’ll be fine.”

 
The summer pudding was pretty good, the custard was a bit poor mind, pretty thin and anaemic – certainly not good ole Birds® . I forced it all down, well waste not want not, stuffed indeed.

"I don’t know how the English eat like this all the time.” Gloria stated.
"No starter,” I suggested, "Most people only have two courses.”
"It would help,” Wilhelm agreed sagely.
"I like it,” Max supplied.
"But you eat anything dear,” his mum noted.
"Not keen on Sushi.”
"Me either,” I agreed recalling some of what I sampled in Japan last year.
"Well there won’t be any arguing over that when you get married then,” Wilhelm offered.

Did he just say what I think he did?

"Er, you want to go for a walk?” Max suggested hurriedly.
"Um, okay.”

 
We started walking up the village, the Schloss is more like a manor house than a castle in the middle of the village, anyway it was still light enough to see easily. Not that I was exactly shod for walking, ten centimetre heels might be okay on the flat but on a less than perfect country lane going uphill – well I kept a tight grip on Max’s arm.

"Sorry about that,” Max mentioned after we’d put some distance between us and his home.
"Did he really say that?”
“’Fraid so.”
"Where’d he get that idea from?”
"Probably Gran, you know what she’s like.”

Don’t I, manipulative to say the least.

"It wouldn’t be so bad would it?” he pursued.
"No offense, Max but I'm not marrying anyone.”
"Ever?”
"Not on my to do list.”
"What about us?”
"What about us?”
"Well you know, us.”
"Never said kissing was out,” I told him, "Come here.”
"Hmmph!”

I didn’t give him a chance to avoid my lip lock. Marry, flippin’ daft sods.

 
We had moved to a bench after a few minutes, we snogged enthusiastically for quite a while.

"We should get back,” Max suggested.
"Do we have to? Just a bit longer,” I whined.
"Go on then.”

It was dark, properly dark by the time we started back towards the Schloss, the downhill route not improved by the lack of street lighting in the village. I needed to hold onto Max even more in this direction but eventually we reached the gateway and giggled our way inside.

 
"Ah, there you are,” Gloria observed when we reached the family room.
"Yes, mother.”
"So, Stuttgart Gaby, we’ll pick you up about two on Tuesday afternoon, we should be there in plenty of time for the breakfast.”
"Er okay, dress?”
"Oh it’s only family dear, nothing too fussy of course.”
So quite formal then, maybe I'll ring Soph and see what she’s wearing.
"Okay.”
"You’ll need a long formal for Wednesday of course.”
"Of course.”
"And, Gaby dear.”
"Yes?”
"You’d best sort out your lipstick before I take you home and, Max, that colour doesn’t suit you.”

Talk about mortified, there’s one thing parental units knowing you’re snogging but to have them rub it in – well I must’ve looked like a pink stick with flowers stuck on.

 
Maddy Bell © 28.03.17