There's no such thing...
February 28, 2007
Blame it on wartime fears of not getting enough food or a concern that valuable nutrition might end up in the trash while poor African children are starving -- when Germans see a buffet, they go crazy. They just can't help themselves.
A particularly cruel buffet species is the American-style "all you can eat" version, where Teutons fill their plates like there's no tomorrow in order to make sure to get their money's worth. They know the tricks -- go easy on fillers like pasta and pizza while focusing on pricey entrees such as meat -- when faced with the "eighth world wonder," as one writer described the buffet extravaganzas at Las Vegas casinos.
Pushing the limits
"How many times you go through the line is a private matter between you and your capacity, and then between your capacity and the chef's evil eye," wrote William Pearson in "The Muses of Ruin."
He clearly didn't spend enough buffet time with Germans as no self-respecting Berlin sushi lover, for example, would even notice the fuming waitress as he stacks towers of empty plates next to the conveyor belt delivering the goods.
Lillian B. Lansdown may have tabooed knives at buffets in her 1922 housekeeping book "How to Prepare and Serve a Meal" for purposes of practicality -- after all it's hard to cut things while standing.
In Germany, however, a buffet ban on sharp objects is a necessary security precaution against major bloodshed as fierce fighting ensues over the last slice of smoked salmon, adding to the evidence of why there is a good reason why "buffet battle" is well-known phrase in Germany.
Bad aftertaste
It seems utterly unfair then that an unemployed 46-year-old man from the western German city of Dortmund recently received a five-month suspended jail sentence for treating a group of his closest 85 friends to the joy of buffet eating.
The man had ordered delicacies such as herb-crusted steaks and Swedish-style fish platter to the tune of 3,700 euros ($4,875) from a catering service for a party at a garden colony. When the food arrived, he called the company, complained about the delivery, shuffled it all in his car to "return" it and disappeared.
"Did you at least enjoy it?" the judge asked the man before advising him that the story would make a great movie.
"Yes, it was delicious -- but I still have a bad aftertaste," answered the buffet-napper, who will have to pay 25 euros per month for the next 12 years to make up for the damage.
Let's not even start thinking about how many trips to a Las Vegas buffet he could have bought with that.