Today was a surprise Moslem holiday so I had the day off from work. I was going to surprise Alpha by pretending to go to work, dropping the kids off then returning with flowers but I didn’t feel like putting on my suit on a day off and besides, wouldn’t it suck to come home and catch your wife in bed with the milkman or something? So we went into town and ran some errands. Then we had lunch. I had Bernerwürsteln, Pommes Frites, Senfzwiebeln, Almdudler gespritzt and, for dessert, Zwetschkenknödeln.

For the uninitiated: Bernerwürsteln are frankfurters wrapped in bacon and fried, one of many typically Austrian dishes that make you wonder why you don’t see more people stagger out of restaurants, clutch at their chest, and fall over dead. Pommes Frites are that famous Belgian invention, french fries. Senfzwiebeln are, it turns out, a condiment – chopped onions in mustard. I would’ve preferred ketchup but eh, over here everyone thinks Americans are crazy about ketchup so I never ask for it in restaurants. Almdudler is a soda pop allegedly made from various alpine herbs. Gespritzt is with mineral water.

Anyway, by the time the Zwetschkenknödeln came (they cost 1.50 euro each and were quite large) I was already full. “Since when do you eat Zwetschkenknödeln?” Alpha asked me. “This is journalism,” I said. “I’m doing this so I can write about it on my blog.”

It turns out Zwetschkenknödeln are not really a dessert, they’re a main course. These, as I’ve mentioned, were big, double the size of the ones my mother-in-law makes. These were made with a potato dough (as per at least one of the recipes linked in the post below) instead of this sort of cottage cheese/cream cheese (here called “Topfen”) dough like my MIL makes. I prefer the latter type, Alpha the former.

A Zwetschkenknödeln, or plum dumpling, is simply a plum wrapped in a firm dough made with either potatoes and flour or Topfen and flour, and boiled until it floats.

My Zwetschkenknödeln arrived, two on a plate boiled, then roasted a little with bread crumbs then served sprinkled with powedered sugar. I cut into one, it was quite picturesque, the boiled plum nestled there in the two hemispheres of the now cut-open dumpling, and made me sorry I’d left my camera at home. They weren’t very fragrant. I found the potato dough a little crude for my taste, though nothing you’d call the police over. Plus I was too full to really enjoy it.

I tipped the guy 5%, which Alpha tells me is okay because first of all people tip less in Austria and second, normally you don’t tip the owner at all and he was the owner’s son. Then we walked back to our car and headed home. On the way to the car she pointed out a poster advertising ballroom dancing classes, starting in about a week. So stay tuned for more on that.