First of all, let me state that I am not obsessed with food, but I do believe in eating three meals a day in a timely fashion. I like to start out with breakfast to fuel up for the day, then have a light lunch around midday to keep me going and then dinner somewhere around six. This combined with an occasional special treat of ice cream keeps my stomach and me content and non-demanding of my thoughts. The schedule has worked for me for years;
A couple of years ago while traveling in Europe I had arranged to meet Bert in Vienna to attend one of his workshops. I took the train from Budapest to Vienna and met the workshop sponsor at her house. She and her husband offered me early supper, which I accepted (I had traveled with Bert before!) That evening Bert and I went out around ten to eat and to see one of Bert’s dancers perform; unfortunately, the club we visited didn’t serve food at that hour, but – hey, what the hell – I’d eaten five hours before. So much for Friday! Saturday morning I had continental breakfast – bread, butter, jam and tea. Bert had some smoked sausage, but I don’t eat that sort of thing. At noon I had a sandwich or something light. After class Bert went off with someone, saying that he would be back soon and that we were going to dinner with the sponsor and her husband. I had half a roll left which I had brought from Budapest so I ate that, thinking it might be all I’d get for some time – little did I know! When Bert returned after about an hour he told me all about the ice cream he had while he was out. Ice cream is my favorite food and he knew that! I asked, “Did you bring me some?” He responded, “No, it wasn’t very good.” I’d like to have come to that conclusion myself. “Well”, he said, “we’re going to eat as soon as Renate (the sponsor) gets here.” Some hours later Renate and husband and daughter arrived. I was faint with hunger.
We made a couple of stops to pick up dancers until we were packed into the car like sardines; probably it was a good thing I hadn’t eaten! Making our way up into the mountains above Vienna we stopped at a hofbrau house and found a lovely spot outside overlooking the city lights. To our dismay we were told we couldn’t sit there – no waiters or something – so we moved to a not-so-scenic spot. When we finally got the attention of someone and wanted to give our food orders we were told they had stopped serving food at 9:00 or 9:30 – was is that late already? So off we went again, this time at 90 MPH, to another place that was still serving food. The smell of food cooking was almost too much to bear given my starving state. We finally ate at about 10:30 p.m. that night.
That was not the first time I had nearly starved to death “on the road with Bert”. I visited him at his ranch for a couple of days a few years ago. Breakfast comes late there, about 10:30, and usually consists of eggs from the ranch (to which I am allergic), bacon if I’m lucky, otherwise some kind of wurst or sausage which I can’t eat, and some form of bread, which I do eat in quantity. One day we left for San Jose after breakfast. Bert was scheduled to teach a private lesson in the late afternoon and a class in the evening. It’s about a 2-1/2 to 3-hour trip by auto and we planned to stop for lunch on the way. As we drove through San Francisco, Bert began telling me about the wonderful Fantasia Bakery, which had all kinds of goodies, including absolutely sinful chocolate cake. Next to chocolate ice cream chocolate cake is my favorite food! I asked, “Are you just going tell me about it or are we going to stop there?” We stopped. The slices of cake were about 2”x2-1/2”x1/2”; however, in that small space there were about 3000 calories, most of them from fat, all marvelously delicious! YUM!! Off we went to San Jose, no lunch stop. I should have known. To Bert the piece of cake was lunch; to me it was a snack – now where’s lunch? It was not to be. We arrived at the studio; Bert started the private lesson, and before it was over the students were arriving for the evening class. So much for supper, on top of no lunch. After class, about 9:30 p.m., the sponsor served meatballs with something (I don’t remember what; I think my memory cells had died from starvation.). Since this same sort of thing had happened before, I mentioned it to Bert on the way home.
Then there was the time Glenn (Bert’s cousin) was away from the ranch. For those of you who don’t know him, Glenn is an excellent cook. Bert does not cook, so when Glenn is not there it’s catch-as-catch-can when it comes to eating. I was in the kitchen about 9:00 a.m. fixing my tea and toast when Bert came in and said, “You should eat some of the cake Glenn left for you.” I opined that it wasn’t a good idea to start the day with something that sweet and that bread would be more substantial. He assured me we would be eating an early lunch. WRONG AGAIN! I should have known by then, but I ate the cake in anticipation of an early lunch. We left about noon, taking a goat to drop off at a friend’s farm, but stopping by at the feed store (unfortunately, only animal feed). Then, when we arrived to drop off the goat, we had to wait and see all of the animals this person had. Also, the lady was concerned about Bert and had to give him some frozen food so he wouldn’t starve in Glenn’s absence. Eventually we were off to Novato to drop off some chickens.
An important thing to remember when traveling with Bert: he does not feel hunger. Perhaps this is a leftover from his early days of going hungry during the food shortages of ’45-’46 which followed the war in Europe. I think he may have learned then to ignore his feelings of hunger. Rules of the road when traveling with Bert:
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“My Adventures in the Big Apple”
by Nisima |
Weight
Loss The Bert Balladine Way
So
“Bert as Teacher” offered to show them how to tell
if the chicken was about to lay an egg. One guy demurred; he wasn’t
about to do that, which amused Bert because the young man was
a medical student. The other one at least tried. All the while
I nearly wet myself laughing at their discomfiture. When the egg-laying
class was over they asked Bert to translate a letter they had
received. We were offered something to drink, but having a glass
of something alcoholic on top of one piece of cake five hours
earlier – no, not possible. I settled for water. About 3:00
p.m. we were finally ordering our “early” lunch.
