Still hunting for my German roots — this time in Old Town Folsom…
As promised in my last post, here’s a “comprehensive review” of the Old Europe Restaurant in Folsom, Ca. Except maybe I should have not written “comprehensive” because that sounds a little too all encompassing — I was just continuing on with my quest for some German-American culture, and I don’t know that I found it.
But I will say that the place is worth your while if you are in the area (Folsom is near Sacramento and on the American River — Old Town Folsom itself is worth the visit).
First off I would say that if you plan to dine there, make sure you are hungry. I don’t think this a light eating place.
I was concentrating on the German atmosphere, but the Old Europe Restaurant serves a variety of European foods.
I had the entrée simply titled “Wiener schnitzel” and chose red cabbage to go with it.
What I got was three huge schnitzels — basically breaded veal cutlets — topped with some lemon slices, and, as I said the red cabbage. I was not able to eat it all, but took a Styrofoam box home with me. But what I ate tasted good to me.
But I think you have to be as hungry as if you just chopped down a tree or were getting ready to chop one down in the Black Forest or maybe as if you were preparing to climb the Alps, to fully enjoy the meal.
My wife had Spatzle (German egg noodles) with Feta cheese. She is a light eater, and she had a huge plate full of them, so she shared with me.
I would have been just as happy to have ordered what she had instead. I have tried several times to make my own Spatzle (see my previous posts) and one time bought some ready-to-go kind. But this stuff was good. I think it’s all in the seasoning or what you mix with them. As my wife said, otherwise “you just have noodles”.
What made it all seem as if we were partaking in some German culture was the beer we drank. I ordered a stein of Spaten, a beer from Munich, and she had the Warsteiner, from a town of the same name in Germany. And then we ordered one more round — both Warsteiners this time.
I’m not an expert in German beer, but I have consumed beer in Germany, and I found these imports to be mild, but certainly good enough (I wonder — do they tone it down for what they think the bland American taste is?).
As for the atmosphere, well, we showed up early and things were pretty slow, but after a while it got a little more crowded, at the bar section anyway — I think they were having a party.
And while we ate we did hear some live accordion music, to include the “Beer Barrel Polka”.
The walls are decorated with some photos and paintings in a old European motif, as well as some framed ancient-looking German Mark bills.
I think I saw the owner, although I did not meet him. He looked to be a somewhat portly, or maybe I should say hefty German. My wife tells me that she and my daughter talked to him when they were there previously and that he had been a soccer player in Germany.
And I should have felt right at home in the building, not because of my German heritage, but because I used to work there. The building formerly housed the Folsom Telegraph newspaper. I pounded out many a story right about where we were sitting.
The restaurant has an outside beer garden. It was not the right kind of day for it when we were there, but I could see it would be pleasant when the weather was a little more
Balmy.
While Old Town Folsom is not Europe, it does have an authentic old-time atmosphere, and I am sure that many a German worked in the nearby mining camps during the California Gold Rush that began in 1849.
Besides German, I also have French ancestry. A great great French Uncle of mine hauled in enough money from the gold rush to buy a small farm back in the Midwest, I have always been told.
So if you even bothered to read this blog, you may be interested in your German heritage. I don’t know if you will find it by going to the Old Europe Restaurant in Folsom, but if you are hungry and thirsty, certainly you could satisfy that hunger and slake that thirst and enjoy the atmosphere of Old Town Folsom while you are at it.
