Klempner - Twenty-Six Years Ago
On the way to breakfast, it occurs to me to wonder if Mitch knows what the Scandinavians like to eat.
She stares at the buffet table. “It’s raw,” she says, recoiling.
“That’s the local menu for you. A hundred variations on the theme of pickled herring…” Her normally perfect complexion has a green tinge. “… but there’s porridge, muesli, cheese, rye bread, ham, eggs. Pick something that doesn’t offend your stomach.”
She eyes the selection; the ubiquitous herring, salmon and more, in their mix of salt and dill and spices. “Maybe I’ll try a bit of it.”
Hmmm…
“Your call.”
Her mouth is working as she looks again. “Er, no. On second thoughts, maybe I’ll stick with the familiar.” And she heads for the porridge.
“Good idea, I think.”
*****
We spend the shor
