Last spring my wife and I visited the German Cafe in Paoli for the first time. We met owner, Ramona Munzer and she told us her story. Her family had been living in Germany the year before and had to move because of the loss of her job. She said that her family had become friends with an American woman who visited Germany regularly and that the woman, who was from the French Lick area, had convinced her to come to America and open a German restaurant in the small Indiana town.
http://forums.louisvillehotbytes.com/viewtopic.php?f=1&t=19353&p=144547&hilit=German+Cafe#p144496
I will attest that I'm still amazed by this story on several levels and I'm grateful to this mystery woman from French Lick because the German Cafe in Paoli has become my favorite German restaurant.
Fast forward to December 28th. December had been a challenging month for me personally and I was looking forward to this weekend, planned to celebrate our 30th anniversary. I felt that it was just what I needed to stop dwelling on the relentless pressure of work and the indignity and discomfort of new braces.
We left the house at 11:00 and the trip did not start well when a call from the car to the German Cafe revealed that they were closed until January. Damn it all! While I selfishly lamented my undeserved suffering, Donna, quickly looked up the Story Inn near little Nashville on her smart phone confirming it was open for lunch. Okay, that could work! They have the coolest little tavern in their basement where I could get some local beer. My spirits picked up even more as we headed north and Donna remarked that it wasn't even snowing as predicted.
If lunch was any indication, the tab on my penance was not yet paid. The tavern was closed because three staff had quit unexpectedly and they were out of local beer. The restaurant was so cold that only my stubbornness kept me from putting my coat back on during the meal and the lunch menu listed short order sandwiches only. My burger when it finally came was way over-cooked and dry to boot. While I was laboriously chewing the charred ground meat, a wire on my braces dislodged from its bracket and began poking me painfully in the gums. We both skipped dessert. This run of luck had me silently wondering if our reservation at the Hotel was refundable. As we returned to the car, I asked if Donna wanted to check out the shops in Nashville, smiling to hide my quiet desperation. She was not fooled. “No, let's just go to the hotel.” Bless her! It had begun to snow lightly.
Our route to the French Lick Hotel and resort would take us through Bloomington. I've always loved this town and felt a bit cheated that I didn't get to attend college there with most of my friends. We visit a few times a year to catch a basketball game or attend an art show and I always work in a stop at one of the breweries, wineries, or one of the town's many cool bars. I hesitantly suggested that we could stop at Upland's Tap room as it was really sort of on the way. Donna immediately agreed that this was a “Great Idea” even though we had just eaten and Donna does not like beer at all. I knew she just wanted things to improve for me and I loved her for it. Thirty years with this girl was the farthest thing from penance and it's shameful that I could forget that at times.
The Upland Tap Room was crowded, cozy, and full of good cheer. It was also full of good beer and I ordered the sampler. Seven beers totaling 42 ounces seemed like a bargain at $8.50. The food menu looked amazing and I was ruefully reminded of the lump of ruined beef I'd just ingested as I continuously tried to direct the sharp end of the wire away from my sore gum with my tongue. I cheered myself considerably by sending my friends, who were working on a Friday, pictures of the pub and beer (you jelly yet?) I rushed to finish so we could continue on our way but we agreed to return to try out the food menu soon. This time Donna's enthusiasm was sincere.
It was still snowing lightly as we checked into the beautiful West Baden Hotel and put our luggage in the lavish room. Donna suggested that we kill some time in Mitchell's jewelery shop located in the Hotel before dinner. We'd been told about the shop by a friend who had visited the hotel a few weeks before. He recommended it for its unique selection and said that the owner, Nancy, had given him a nice “Travelers” discount when he'd mentioned that he and his wife were from Sellersburg.
Donna and I entered the narrow shop and were greeted warmly by a man, a woman, and two dogs from behind the long glass counter. I wasted no time asking “You wouldn't be Nancy would you?” “I am” she said. “Then Neal from Sellersburg says hello.” I replied. She didn't hesitate. “Oh I remember them and Patty with such a lovely Boston accent!”
We conversed with them as Donna perused the cases. Today was our thirtieth anniversary and it had become tradition for Donna to pick out a piece of jewelry to commemorate the event. With the 30th being such a notable milestone I wondered just how notable the piece would be. I wasn't really worried.
Nancy congratulated us and asked if we had reservations in the Hotel restaurant, Sinclairs. I said we were eating at the golf course restaurant, Hagans, and she approved. I moaned that we were very disappointed that we had been unable to have lunch at the German Cafe in Paoli as they were closed for the Holidays. Nancy said “Oh we know the owners they are good friends.”
“Wait, you know Ramona and Berndt?” I asked. She said “Yes we know them. We've known them for a long time.” I closed my gaping mouth and said, “Then you must be the woman who brought them from Germany to Paoli?” “Oh yes, that's me.” she smiled and went on to tell the story from her side. We listened without interruption as she spoke with obvious pleasure about her husband's service in Germany, meeting the Munzers and becoming friends, and finally convincing them to make the terrifying move.
I looked over at Donna and saw that she was smiling. “Find something?” I asked. “I think I did.” she pointed down at the case. Donna chose a square cut setting with blue diamonds. We continued to talk with the owners and I revealed that Ramona had told us the story of the American woman from French Lick who had made it possible for her family to come to America. We were so pleased to meet her and thanked her for helping the Munzers. She said she would give them our regards.
The beautiful ring fit perfectly and as Nancy wrapped up Donna's choice she gave us a generous “travelers” discount saying “It was the least they could do.” I assured her it was far from the least.
That night it snowed six inches but we didn't notice.
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