Glacis Beisl, Vienna, Austria

It's not a good ambition to want to eat something the size of your head. But hey, it was my birthday dinner and we were headed to Vienna. Nothing else would do but to order the biggest and best schnitzel in town.

Finding Wiener Schnitzel in Vienna is hardly difficult. The phrase simply means cutlet from Vienna. So we sought advice from Vienna resident R, AKA eldest daughter. She sent us here, recommending we get an outside table. Descend a few steps and you are indeed in a rather lovely and extensive garden restaurant, with large groups enjoying a Friday night. It was, however, a little airy for L so we requested an inside table. We were shown into a charmless canteen of a space, hard against the sideboard where they keep cutlery and menus. Should you be on the run from the law, I'd also recommend this table as it seems to come with an invisibility cloak. As the minutes tick slowly past, you can amuse yourself studying  the chips on the formica table.

I should say that while this part of the establishment was fairly quiet, there were a lot of staff dashing about, which made the lack of human contact even more inexplicable. After half an hour we took turns to bob up and down from our seats and wave, eventually securing the great prize of a menu and a drinks order.

The table was booked for 8.00. We arrived on time. At 9.20, the first items of food reached the table. L quite enjoyed her beetroot salad with cream cheese and walnuts. Simple but effective. The same, in theory, could have been said of sautéed chanterelles with romaine lettuce, thyme vinaigrette and croutons. So much of life is good in theory. The practice? Tiny tasteless mushrooms on a bed of shredded lettuce swimming in a dressing which was 90% thymeless vinegar. Croutons should be bite sized crunchy things, not specks of stale bread heated to lukewarm.

Before our mains arrived we had to get out of the combat zone. To break the tedium of the wait, they made me jump out of my skin by slamming down a pile of menus  on the sideboard, six inches from my head. I complained, and received a vague apology. Sometime later cutlery cascaded down. Spying a table being vacated we made a speedy move. This escape confused the waitress arriving with the next course. I only wish we had escaped out of the premises altogether.

The menu had translated pieroggi as ravioli. Well, in fairness, both involve stuffed dough. The Italian version is delicate and light. At Glacis Beisl? How can I describe this without being politically incorrect? Ship's ballast? Weapons of mass destruction? They were stuffed with a solid and tasteless mixture of curd and potato. I declined a second mouthful as I wanted to be able to walk later.

The menu contained two schnitzel dishes. Bizarrely, one was made with pork, which is an anathema to Viennese traditionalists. I ordered the Original from the classic menu with the usual accompaniments of potato salad and lingonberries. Well, almost. I dislike Austrian potato salad, which is made with broth and is slightly sweet. Scanning the menu, I noticed one dish which had hash browns as an accompaniment. A swap was agreed. The veal itself was fairly decent and there was plenty of it. The potatoes? A dish of shredded spuds on the side, the flavourings including caraway. I might actually have enjoyed it had it  been just a few degrees warmer than the nearest stone.

All in all, a depressing way to welcome a new year. I consoled myself with memories of last year's birthday lunch and schnitzels I have made. I also see that my recipe for the world's greatest potato salad was on the old website and I'll reprise that today. Out of the wreckage of this repast I'm finding inspiration for something wonderful, and I'll make some ravioli for L as well. Hooray!