Germany, live music, restaurant reviews

A live jam session at Tommi’s Bistro!

Yesterday, after several days of eating Hello Fresh meals, I was craving a good steak in the worst way.  We happen to live within walking distance of Tommi’s Bistro, an excellent steak restaurant.  Although Bill had been planning to cook this week’s chicken dish from Hello Fresh, I was all about going out.  It wasn’t too hard to convince Bill to change his plans since he’d been sitting in 90 minutes of traffic and was in no mood to cook anyway.

Obligatory shot of Bill…

Last night was Thursday, so I had a feeling there could be live music at Tommi’s, though nothing was posted on their Web site.  We usually go there on Fridays, when nothing is going on.  Since I am also a music lover, I was pretty curious about how good the music is at Tommi’s.

When we arrived at about 7:00, most of the tables were reserved.  There were two very large tables that weren’t spoken for, so Bill and I took spots by the window.  I looked up at a sign and saw that yes, there would be live music later.  Knowing that Bill had to go to work today, I figured we’d just eat and stick around to hear a couple of songs.  Sometimes, I’m so dumb.

We ordered a bottle of wine and two dry aged Argentinian rib-eyes with baked potatoes, which came with house shots of sherry.  I will reiterate that despite being in little Unterjettingen, Tommi’s offers excellent steaks.  In fact, I think they are among the best I’ve had in Germany.

  

Early numbers.

As the hour got closer to 8:00, people started showing up to claim their reserved spots.  Musicians started setting up.  It looked like a very casual set up.  The band members appeared to be laid back older guys with day jobs.  No one wore sequins or leather pants.

We finished our dinner just before the music started.  A young girl of about fifteen or sixteen with an acoustic guitar, apparently a student at a nearby music school, joined the band and played a very impressive version of “Dust In The Wind” by Kansas.  Then they played “Tears in Heaven”.

I noticed a couple of other folks showing up who appeared to be musicians.  One was a young guy with a Lynyrd Skynyrd t-shirt and an electric guitar.  Another guy had a harmonica.  And there was a young woman wearing a hat and I could tell she was the resident singer.  One of the waitresses on a previous visit had mentioned her.

Bill and I were eventually joined at our large table by a couple of older German guys and the wife or girlfriend of one of them.  I noticed she kept sneaking looks at us.  I couldn’t tell if she was curious or annoyed, since we obviously weren’t part of what is a local and very enthusiastic crowd.

The Lynyrd Skynyrd guy got up and played “Free Bird” and “Sweet Home Alabama” with the band.  They did a damn good job with the music, though I noticed that none of them really knew the words to the songs.  “Sweet Home Alabama” was a little truer to form, though of course they really shined on the jamming part of “Free Bird”.  Then they played a ZZ Top song that I didn’t recognize.

Watching the band play suddenly reminded me of the last time we went to a fest and the band kept playing “So Lonely” by The Police and no one knew the words.  They kept sing the chorus over and over again.  Most everyone was either high on life or beer, so it was very much a happy celebration of music.  That, along with the sight of 19 year old drunk guys with bras on their heads is an enduring memory from the Canstatter Fest of 2007.  After that, my brain was riddled with two mas krugs of fine German suds and things get a little fuzzy.

Lynyrd Skynyrd guy was tearing it up!

On the way back from the bathroom, I stopped to tell the young girl with the guitar how much I had enjoyed her playing.  I had to do it in English, though I did add a couple of German words to emphasize my point.  She totally beamed at me.  It was really adorable.  I have a feeling pretty soon she’ll be getting a lot more kudos from strange people like me.  She was very good.

As it got closer to 10:00, Bill and I decided we needed to get going.  After we paid the check, we  made another pit stop.  The acoustic guitar girl was getting ready to leave and we said “Tschuss”.

Then I saw the guy with the harmonica standing in the foyer with all the smokers.  He was also very skilled, so I complimented him on his playing.  We struck up a conversation and I told him that I like singing.  He suddenly got very excited and asked me what songs I know.  I mentioned a couple that he didn’t seem familiar with.  Next thing I knew, he was working very hard to get me on the stage.  I gave thought to making a run for it, but then the resident singer got up and sang blistering renditions of “I Put A Spell On You” by CCR and “Long Train Runnin'” by the Doobie Brothers.  She was very impressive!

The time inched closer to 11:00 and I thought maybe we’d have to come back again sometime.  I was telling harmonica guy that we also needed to go after he told us that the bass player was going to have to go home because he had to work today.  “So does Bill!” I called after him after he ran off to see if he could squeeze me in somehow.  I was amazed by how eager this guy was to get me in front of the people.

Then the band broke into “Little Wing” by Jimi Hendrix (though their version sounded more like Sting’s, luckily for me).  I sort of know that song from listening to Sting’s version for years.  I was also a little drunk and certainly not prepared to join the band.  Nevertheless, harmonica guy, name of Gunter, hustled me toward the stage– I mean, he literally pushed me up there.  So I gave “Little Wing” the old college try… and I remembered maybe half the words.  Finally, during the last verse, I ad-libbed new lyrics, which turned out surprisingly well…

They went something like this, though my memory is a little hazy:

I’ve forgotten half this song…
I’ve been drinking so much, I need to go home.
It’s alright, it’s alright, I know.  You’re all good sports.
All I need to do tonight is refresh my memory.

I’m an American in Germany!
I’m so glad I’m here
Cuz’ I do love your beer!
It’s alright, it’s alright I say… 
All I need to do is learn some songs.

I got quite the warm reception and the new lyrics totally worked.  Most everyone seemed to understand that I was pulling the words out of my ass.  To be quite honest, I get a huge rush when I get to sing with live musicians!  I shook hands with the band and wished everyone a good night (in German, no less), then after I congratulated the resident singer with the powerhouse pipes (and she returned the sentiment), we hit the road.  Music is definitely an international language, though everything they did at Tommi’s last night was in English, anyway!

Needless to say, Bill and I had a great time.  I can’t believe the luck we have, living in a town within walking distance that offers open mic nights.  We’ll definitely be back, if only just to watch and listen!  On Saturday nights, they have live bands that come in.

Damn, Germany is fun!

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Tickets to Seville and The Prado… and an amazing taste of real Spain

During my last visit to Madrid, my sister Becky and I visited the Prado museum.  I distinctly remember that we didn’t have time to see much because we needed to catch a train.  Also, Becky was in a foul mood and had pretty much cussed me out in a nearby park.  But Becky’s an artist and has the temperament to match her talent, so there you go.  Anyway, Bill loves to look at art and as I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more interested in it.  So we decided to go to The Prado and check out the exhibits.

Yummy churros con chocolate…

But first, there was some business we needed to attend to.  I wanted to go to Seville, which is my favorite Spanish city thus far.  So, after a cheap and very satisfying breakfast of churros and chocolate at an Asian owned bar near our hotel, we went by metro to the Atocha train station, one of Madrid’s two big stations.  It was interesting to take the Madrid metro again after so many years.  Bill observed that the machines offered directions in English, but there weren’t any attendants around.  So we had to be a bit more intuitive as we determined where we needed to go.

We got to the train station and made our way to the RENFE office so we could buy our tickets.  I sort of dreaded doing this, since the last time I visited Spain, I encountered some very unpleasant people in the Atocha train station.  I’m happy to report that this time, the woman who helped us was very nice and even admired Bill’s squiggly signature which doesn’t resemble a name.  She pronounced it “clever” and then made fun of all the people who signed so carefully on the credit card machine.  All the machine really cares about is that someone scribbled something in the right place.

We ended up with two tourist level tickets for the 1:00 train.  I would have opted for “club class” had the clerk offered it, but as it turned out, second class was a lot cheaper and plenty comfortable.  More on that in my next post about our bullet train ride to Seville.

Anyway, I remembered that the Prado Museum was very close to the train station.  My memory didn’t fail me.  All we had to do was cross the street and walk a little ways and there it was.

The Prado…

A cathedral near the Prado…

We got to the museum at 11:20 am and got tickets to the special temporary exhibit for 11:45am.  The exhibit was on the Velasquez family of Philip IV and it was surprisingly interesting.  Indeed, I was marveling at how much of art is also a history lesson.  After we looked at the Velasquez exhibit, we looked at some sketch books of Spanish artists who went to Rome to learn technique.  That was an even more interesting exhibit, given all that went into the training and the varying levels of talent among the artists.

The permanent exhibit is absolutely huge and takes hours to get through.  We saw a good portion of the  museum, but I finally wimped out after about three hours.  There was so much to see that I didn’t feel like my brain could process much more.  I’m really glad we took the time to see this museum, though.  It was well worth the price of admission.  One of the favorite parts of my visit was getting to see an amazing copy of the Mona Lisa…  Check out this link from CNN for a glimpse!

The walk back to Puerta del Sol…

We walked back to our hotel from the Prado, then headed for the Puerta del Sol area, which is sort of the heart of Madrid.  I found us a nice family owned restaurant not directly in the line of tourism and we had paella and beer for lunch.  I think it was Bill’s first taste of paella and he really enjoyed it.

Bill had chocolate and I had vanilla for dessert…

Mickey and Minnie Mouse were in Puerta del Sol…  So were Bart and Homer Simpson and Spongebob Squarepants.

We went back to our hotel, where I proceeded to take another long nap.  I guess the Prado affected me more than I realized.  Once I woke up, it was time for dinner and we went walking in search of a place for something to eat.  I didn’t want to go back to the Puerta del Sol area, because it was very crowded and busy and I didn’t feel like fighting crowds.  But I also didn’t want to sit in a crowded place near our hotel.  After walking around a bit, we finally stopped at a deserted looking bar.

The place was not the usual sort of establishment I would choose, but I was tired and just wanted to get something simple to eat.  Little did I know, that sad little bar would turn into an amazing cultural experience.  We walked in, sat down, and ordered two beers.  I ordered chicken wings and Bill ordered Serrano ham, which is just as good as Iberian ham, but less expensive.  The legs of ham were right up there at the bar and we watched the bartender carve some for us.  The bartender also brought us Russian salad and potato cakes.

Bill eats ham and bread…

Those chicken wings were delicious.

 It was pretty slow at the beginning of the night…

We drank beer and wine…

As the night wore on, we seemed to endear ourselves to the bartender, who brought us olives.  More people came in, including a guy who looked like he was into sports.  A little while later, his girlfriend came in.  She was tall, a bit overweight, and wore an extremely low cut blouse that showed off her boobs.  My face must have registered shock because next thing I know, she was whispering to her man.  He gave me a dirty look.  Then I saw her turn around and she had zipped up her jacket to cover her breasts.

I felt a little badly at first.  I didn’t mean to embarrass her.  But I honestly was surprised to see her boobs.  They left and Bill and I kept drinking.  The owner of the bar brought out more tapas we didn’t order.  It was clear that if you were drinking, they were feeding you.

I got up to go to the bathroom.  There was no toilet paper in the toilet, which was not very clean.  Fortunately, I had tissues that I had gotten on our Scottish cruise on Hebridean Princess in 2012.  They really came in handy.  I left a few for the next gal to come along.

The owner brought of empanadas and potatoes and bacon… I finally had to look up at him with a look that said I was about to explode…  though it was a lot of fun watching the crowd.  Football was on the TV and we got to see some Spanish ads, which are a hell of a lot more entertaining than American ads are.  One that we saw several times involved a naked man running through the streets.  His private parts were blurred out; but still, you’d never see that in America.

When we were in Scotland, a kind-hearted cabbie gave me a “wee Scottish tartan umbrella” to help fend off the frigid, damp weather.  Bill brought it with us on our trip and had taken it along on that night at the crazy Spanish bar in Madrid.  He was a bit buzzed and forgot to take it with him when we left.  I was a little sad, since that umbrella had sentimental value.  But then I realized we had traded one cultural experience for another.  And honestly, that bar was obviously run by guys who weren’t into neatness.  I bet the umbrella is still sitting where we sat and will be there awhile.  We noticed that there was a lot of trash on the floor and no one seemed too worried about picking it up.  On the other hand, we had a wonderful time.  When I protested all the food, the guy who was bringing it out gave me a “never mind” look and rubbed his stomach as he licked his lips.  Too funny!

The front of the infamous Spanish bar…

 We passed a gay bar on the way back to our hotel and I couldn’t resist snapping these photos.

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