As I am a bit of a geek I have somehow stumbled backwards into tickets to Salt Lake Comic Con and Fan-x every time they’ve had on. I know right? It’s completely unfair. However as a consequence of this I have developed some little rituals based around the con.
The one that is relevant here is the “Post Con Decompression Dinner That Happens At Red Rock Because It’s Really Convenient Even With That Stupid Sidewalk Closure”. It is a most ancient ritual and most important. As we’ve done it like three times.
But anyway. This year the staff was entirely unbalked by the Ursala and Wizard being seated. Drinks were ordered. A beer and cider that smelled delicious but I am otherwise unable to comment upon.
For appetizers I got the Mexican Street Corn (a personal favorite dish) and the fried pickles. The aioli they used for the corn and as a sauce for the pickles was delightful. Fatty and spicy with just a hint of other spices floating beneath the surface. It was quite good. My corn itself was a little cold, but honestly I didn’t mind all that much. It still tasted delicious though in retrospect I should have brought it up.
But such is life.
The pickles were very nice. Crispy breading and a slightly spicy pickle that hovered between that crunchy and soggy point. You know that perfect pickle point? Right there. Only with breading. Crispy breading.
My entree was a special that they had up for Octoberfest (a varient of which seems to live on the menu).
The Pork Schnitzel ala Holstien.
A golden fried piece of pork, with a demiglace and capers. Served topped with a fried egg. On the side there was some buttered spaetzel, some braised apples and cabbage, and a warm potato salad.
I know right? That’s why I ordered it.
The pork was beautifully fried and the sauce was quite tasty. It came off as a hair underseasoned, until I made sure I got a caper or some of the potato salad and then it was perfect.
The cabbage was… well… cabbage. I couldn’t tell if there were apples in it and by itself they were… cabbage. The spaetzel was delightfully buttery but a little one note.
That potato salad though. By the gods of food and hearth it was wonderful. It was mustardy but not aggressive. It was aromatic. It was like mustardy flowers of heaven opening in your head.
It was tasty is what I think I mean. But all of them apart, even the bad poetry salad, paled for how fantastic they all were as a composed bite.
Just delightful. The kind of mouthful that makes you reconsider your feelings for “german food”.
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And I’ll see you in the Chow Line.
-The Fat Kid