Campestre Alemán
Clint had recommended it. Restaurante Campestre Alemán. We were hungry coming back from Erongarícuaro so we pulled up underneath the Freistaat Bayern coat of arms, and humming Ach du lieber Augustin, we walked into the place, hankering for some Sauerbraten und Spätzle.
Passing under the reindeer antlers (or moose or whatever), we found ourselves on the shore of an artificial lake. Tables on decks overlooked the water. The scent of pines filled the air in this charming and peaceful, if unexpected, place.
A young Mexican waiter wearing a pleated white shirt and black bow tie seated us at the water's edge. He handed us menus.
Lets see... Arrachera. Guacamole. Sopa Tarasca. Hmmm. This is a Bavarian restaurant?
Turn the page. Trucha (trout). More trout. Fried trout. Stuffed trout. Smoked trout. Trout paté. Trout soup. Truite en Bleu. Half the menu is devoted to some kind of trout.
Got salmon? No. Whitefish? No. Huachinango? No. Just trout.
Campestre Alemán is a trout farm. From our table, we could look down into the murky green water and see hundreds of them floating lazily just below the surface.
Not exactly your sparkling Alpine lake, is it?
Somewhat reluctantly, I ordered the... uh... trout. On the principle you should always play to a restaurant's strengths. I also asked for another of their specialties: shiitake soup. A kind of Japanese-German combo, I guess. Axis fusion cuisine.
"Sorry. We're all out of shiitakes."
(Darn.) "OK. Bring me the Sopa Tarasca then."
Following Clint's advice, we ate lightly, leaving room for Apfel Strudel mit Eis. It was very good, as were the smoked trout and the bean soup. In all, a great place to stop for a moderately-priced meal. Beautiful setting, attentive service, good food. If you like trout.
And for $10 pesos you can rent a fishing pole, to catch your own dinner.