“What, you want to eat? Isn’t it too late?”
“Yes and yes” is the answer, but honestly this was hardly the best way to start a dinner. One hour and 100 Euros later, the seriously pissed off waitress turned into a much more agreeable one, but her grumpy beginning spoiled the atmosphere quite a bit.
The Brettljause did little to improve it, really. It was the standard industrial type, with a Wiener sausage, ham and cheese straight out of plastic. The Speck tasted much better, but the day Speck in Salzburg gets bad would be the day of the apocalypse. Apart from the Speck, the only dish-saving ingredients were a tiny slice of soft cheese of not much taste and an even smaller bit of Grammelschmalz – probably good, but far too tiny to appreciate.
To tell the truth, expecting a good Brettljause next to a big tourist-infested lake was like expecting a fresh fish on the top of a mountain, and Fisher Wirt certainly did not bring any surprises in this respect.
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