Sunday dinner to warm your heart and stick to your ribs.

Sunday dinner to warm your heart and stick to your ribs.

And when you do, and it’s chilly outside and you’ve turned on the heat for the first time all fall, you make rouladen. And while you’re about it, you make German potato salad and braised red cabbage with cream, because cool weather makes you feel like German food, and you cook crowder peas for good measure, because you know good and well your son won’t eat the red cabbage and you don’t want to starve the poor boy.

Not that I think he was in danger.

It was a standard Sunday, in that Amazing Grandchild 2 had spent the night, and I got up early to get a start on dinner so his mama and daddy could eat with us when we got home from church and we could watch football while he napped. I hadn’t made rouladen since last winter, and I was somewhat in the mood. Plus, SonInLaw2 loves them; he calls them “those pickle things.”

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This is NOT what I had for dinner. This is the special, duck breast, which I stole from their Facebook page. It looks good, too, but I bet it was no better than my dinner.

This is NOT what I had for dinner. This is the special, duck breast, which I stole from their Facebook page. It looks good, too, but I bet it was no better than my dinner.

Dear Sweet Baby Jesus, y’all. If you have a Germanic/Eastern European/Slavic cell in your DNA anywhere, go, right now, to the Steinhauskeller in Hot Springs and indulge it. If you don’t, pretend you do, and go anyway.

You will NOT be sorry. And I say that on the strength of a single meal. It will not be my last there. Because this may be the restaurant that puts the Austrian Village, of which I have in the past waxed eloquent, in the shade.

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