Dresden - Saturday

Tho' the train was 50 minutes late in PRG, we tried not to mind . . . there's nothing wrong with Holsovice Nadrazi, but it's not a place anybody hangs out at, I don't think . . . but the train ride to Dresden was perfekt . . . 2 hours in the dining car, the ride was smooth as glass, the temperature was fine even when the sun glared in thru the huge windows, the scenery was great, the food was good enough, the waiter was jovial & insisted on speaking English to us instead of our pidgin-Czech . . . the ride was over before we knew it.

Our Intercity Hotel was just across the tram tracks from Dresden hbf. The clerk was friendly and English speaking -- avoided even rolling her eyes at my atrocious german. We parked our bags and headed off to our first stop . . . Mrs had been to Dresden last winter, but we went further afield than she had gone before, relying on her research to guide us, we hiked briskly, since we were half-afraid the shops would all close at 1pm, before we could get there . .  . down PragerStrasse past Postplatz, past Theatreplatz, over the river into Neu Stadt, down thru a lovely, cool promenade of giant shade trees, into what I would call a bohemian quarter . . . at least the kids all looked like new bohemians, if you know what I mean . . .

This first stop was a place that just sounded too weird to pass up:

Currywurst and Pommes . . . we weren't sure how they were going to mix curry and wurst but we had to see . . . it made a good lunch, not too much to eat (we just added a brodchen, no potatoes) . . . but the thing about it . . . you WILL finish your beer when you eat one of these . . .

 the sauce was curried, the sausages were standard, but with a curry-powder on them too. Been awhile since we had a Beck's Beer too . . . that was good. Then we worked our way back to AltStadt for the raison d'etre for our trip, for Mrs to buy a dress for the wedding in Oct. . . . let's just say Dresden is better for shopping than Prague (IOHO) and leave it at that. . . . the trick was to go to malls / department stores big enough to keep ME entertained while Mrs shopped . . . she knew where she wanted to start: the Karstadt . . . 5 stories of shopping equal to anywhere in the US. But we stopped on the way at a little shop and bought some local wine, Saxische Reisling and Tramminer.

So Mrs stopped off on floor 1 in Women's things and I went up to electronics on 5 . . . The great thing about German is that in technical matters English resembles it greatly, so I said to the woman I got to help me "Camera-Computer Interface Cable" and she walked me right over to what I needed . . . and it was only 8 Euros . . . the last one we bought in the US was a lot more than that, I'm pretty sure. Then I went down a floor to housewares, just to browse, but just like at Kotva, I was drawn to the crystal . . . hmpf, it's not Bohemian Crystal, but maybe they have Reidel, I tho't . . . they did . . . I wasn't able to replace our Le Pitoyables that got broken, but I did get a nice pair of Sauvignon/Reisling glasses -- and I figgered the Tramminer would go alright in 'em too . . .

Then while I waited in the checkout line, I saw these egg-cups, with little warmers for the egg-heads. I bought those too. I figgered that just about did me on the shameless consumerism deal, but when I met back up with Mrs, she asked, Did you get a shredder? and I had to say no . . . but we easily found one back up on 5 whereas we hadn't even seen one in Prague, so we bought that too.

It is a long walk from the far end of Neu Stadt back to the Hbf where our hotel was, and shopping like that DOES take it out of a boy, so we stopped for a coffee on Pragerstrasse to rest and watch the world go by . . .

then the waitress said something about a salat but we didn't want to spoil our dinner, so we said no . . . so she went away and didn't come back till we flagged her down . . . come to find out, there's some German expression that sounds like salat that means "are you ready to pay?" . . . 8^D. . . I guess I will never learn . . . we went back to the hotel, hot and exhausted, flopped on the bed and watched a Rockford file, turned around 3 times, then headed back out to dinner . . .

The hotel gave us a transit pass as part of our stay, so we gratefully used the trams instead of walking to get to Albertplatz, a huge circle on the edge of NeuStadt, that's like the hub of all the streets on that side of the river. We walked down Konigstat to KO5A, which name is derived from their address, for some "unpretentious classic Saxony dining", to paraphrase the guide book . . . but they were locked up tighter than a drum . . .

Plan B, Plan B, Plan B, I started chanting. . . but Mrs said, I don't HAVE a plan B for this -- but then she said, Oh, the Carousel is across the street . . . that's the fancy place (the only michelin rated restaurant in Dresden), but maybe we can get in without a reservation, anyway . . . and even tho' we're not dressed . . . so I poked my head in, and asked a surprised waiter, "Are you serving, yet?"  He assimilated my deshabille non-Germanness and said, "Oh! do you want to eat here in the Bistro?" Well, sure!

A very comfortable room . .  . they had something on the wall I would jokingly call Muppets at the Last Supper, I meant to get a picture of it, since it amused me, but I forgot in the excitement of the cuisine . . . the actual Carousel restaurant is thru those door (an atrium dining area) or down the hall next to that atrium . . . but we decided the kitchen must be the same . . .

We ordered just glasses of wine, Mrs weiss; miene rott. For the first course I had a caesar salad . . . I usually won't unless they make it at the table, following the culinary Laws of Lupe, but it was awfully good anyway, with crisps of parmesan and the odure of anchovie full on the tongue.

Mrs had elected something she didn't recognize, again, following the Laws of Lupe, Melted Crottin de Chavignol with Rocket Salad, Pesto & Pine Nuts. I couldn't hear my croutons crunching over her nummy sounds . . .

Then for her main course she had Monkfish in Bouillabasse Nage with Spinach and Mild Garlic Puree -- the small -- my colleague A* asked me "what IS monkfish, exactly?" and I had to admit I did not know . . . "the poor man's lobster" would be the most appetizing answer, the truth would look like this:

8^D

OMG, she gasped at length. Thank Goodness I ordered the small! Make no mistake: it was divine.

Meanwhile, I was in the delicious throes of that agony only possible with the finest of meats, and a dollop or two of beurre frankish, I ruefully acknowledge, now . . . Lamb Shank on Peppers-Beans Ragout with Potato Gnocchi . . .

anything I said about it would be damning with faint praise . . . we agreed later that this was as fine as Le Degustation in Prague. Just awesome. But soon we were laying back in our chairs inhibited from displays of total sloth, gluttony, and debauchery only by the deferential, insistent interruptions by our waiter to offer us more wine. "You're a BAD man!" I told him, wagging my finger. He just laughed.

He offered us coffee, but Mrs said I want dessert! I had the small so I could have dessert! So I let her pick the Cold Cherry Soup with Sour Cream Ice Cream -- we didn't believe it either, so we had to see . . . I had a mango bisque once at the La Fonda in Santa Fe that I tho't was pretty good but this was even better.

whatever concerns we had about sour cream ice cream were dashed away. whatever expectations we had had about cold cherry soup were wildly exceeded. I had two bites and had to stop. I asked the waiter for emergency rations of cappucino and armagnac . . . this IS a Bas Armagnac, I asked when he showed me the bottle. He made a little moue in offense . . . "But of course!" A Baron Legrand 1979.

As we whizzed back over the river to Wienerplatz by the train station on our spotless, quiet, roomy tram I took this picture with my camera . . .it doesn't do justice of course, but our hearts were just so full of love for the cheerful, friendly, open Dresdners and their rebuilt city that will one day return to the top 3 beautiful cities in Europe. No doubt.