GERMAN MENUS ON SEA AND LAND.
The Germans claim that the custom of providing a written or printed menu, or Speisenkarte, originated in their country.
At a meeting of the Reichstag in Regensburg, in 1541, Count Hugo of Montfort noticed one day at a banquet that the host, Duke Heinrich von Braunschweig, had before him a Zettel, or slip of paper, which he glanced at now and then. Being questioned, the Duke replied that it was a list of the dishes that were to be served, made for him by the chef so that he might save his appetite for those which he liked best.
Whether true or not, the story gives the raison d'être for a menu at every table-d'hôte meal. It is related by Friedrich Baumann in his Meisterwerk der Speisen, a monumental work in two volumes, of over two thousand pages, to which brief reference has already been made. Baumann has been called the German Carême (who was "the Luther of the French cuisine"). To him cooking was not mere handwork; it was an art and a science; and in his work he not only enumerates and briefly describes the foods of all countries (for example, of fishes, and dishes made thereof, there are about twenty-five hundred!), but treats of everything pertaining to the growing, cooking, and serving of victuals with true German thoroughness and with hundreds of those footnotes which are accepted in that country as the best evidence of scholarship.
Of all the German cities none is visited by more American and English tourists than Munich; and few of these fail to go and see the Court Brewery, even though they may not wish to try the beer—the best in the world. You may eat at the Hofbräuhaus without drinking anything, though you will be stared at as a freak. There are several large dining-rooms and the bill of fare is large, varied, and thoroughly German. Look at the soups, for instance: bouillon with egg, bread soup, noodle soup with or without a large chunk of boiled chicken, which adds sixteen cents to the price, liver-noodle soup, and brain soup. All are nutritious and tasty and cost only four or five cents a big plate. The fishes offered on this particular day in September are carp, pike, sand-eel from the Danube, and perch-pike. These cost from about 27 to 32 cents a generous portion. Ochsenfleisch—boiled beef—is always in great demand and is usually juicy and well-flavored. Without vegetables it costs only 12 cents a plate. Five different cuts of veal open the list of roasts, and the same price is charged for them—17 cents—though in other restaurants the kidney piece often costs a few cents more. Pork is two cents and a half higher, while chicken, goose, and pigeon may rise to the dizzy heights of 32 cents a plate.
Among the day's ready dishes—Fertige Speisen—we note haunch of venison at 35 cents and leg of venison for five cents less. Half a partridge is listed at 24 cents, and the same charge is made for a quarter of a wild duck. There is of course a Sauerbraten—a sort of bœuf à la mode with a palatable sour sauce—and you may choose bœuf braisé, or Greek steak, or various mutton dishes, smoked meats, and so on, the prices for these being about 22 to 24 cents, including a vegetable: cabbage, potatoes, beans, or rice, noodles, dumplings (Bavarian liver-dumplings—Leberknödel—are fine!) or macaroni with minced ham, which ought to be on every table in every country at least two or three times a week.
The roasts and fries to order include, of course, the Wiener Schnitzel (savory when you have German or Austrian veal), the Paprikaschnitzel and various other cuts from the calf or the ox. Kompotts are in Germany served with roasts as regularly as salads are in France; they are stewed fruits—apples, pears, apricots, cherries, and berries among which the Preisselbeere is most Teutonic and most delicious.
The Mehlspeisen on this particular menu are fewer in number and less racy of the soil than those you would find on a Viennese bill of fare. Besides the international omelette and the Italian macaroni there is only the German pancake and the Windnudel. Among the vegetables and salads are listed, rather out of place, the Spätzl, a variety of the noodles which are the German version of the Italian macaroni and other pastes, and which only a German knows how to cook to perfection. A glance at the twenty-two varieties of cold meats and appetizers and the dozen varieties of cheese brings to mind the international aspect of German gastronomy.
In the more expensive restaurants of Munich and other German cities the French influence is more obvious. I chose the menu of the Hofbräuhaus because of its thoroughly bourgeois and German aspect.