When Texans came to dinner II

English version from older epistle.
Last week she came from Texas. I haven´t seen her in 20 years. Birna Björk. My niece. She was accompanied by her son, Kristinn. A 20 year old handsome fellow. He is born and raised in Texas. Belton.

Birnas´brother, Brynjar, and his wife Olga, attended to the visitors during their stay. We invited the Texans and their hosts for dinner and a chat one evening. Gunnbjorg as well. She speaks two languages.

I wondered about the menu for the evening for some while. How does one treat a Texan in ones´home? Should we make it national and stick with the hangikjöt? That´s what granny Gunnbjorg did each time she was expecting visitors. Hangikjöt without exception. Or should I have salt meat and yellow beans? That never seems to fail. And then I had second thoughts.

Of course all the other cousins and aunts must have already given them the altogether Icelandic meal. Of course. And so my problem became somewhat bigger. How about fish? Yes, of course. Icelandic fish gourmet. Finally I concluded with fish soup using all seafood species known within the territorial waters. And thus I started the work.

Starters: Homebaked rye bread, butter, marinated herring, seasoned herring, home made salmon mousse.
Main course: Fishsoup with salmon, lobster, shrimp, mussels, plaice, white wine and cream and homebaked wheat buns. Butter.
Dessert: Brownie. Chocolate peacan pie, with eggs and brown sugar tart and ice cream. Coffee.

It is far from easy to decide what to serve Texans that one knows eat 500 kilograms of beefsteak on their days of celebration, or turkey. And then hamburgers and french fries on a regular day. And somehow my worries came true when it turned out my niece is a vegetarian. She didn´t touch the soup. She like the tart however. Her son ate everything though and even had a refill of the soup. Good boy.

The evening was quiet and beautiful and conversations were fluent. One or two genetic mannerisms were observed much to our delight. We send our warmest regards to my sister, Sigurbjörg Ágústsdóttir Dix, a houswife in Belton, Texas, from the harsh north.

(I contemplated if my niece would loose weight during her stay as I learned she was invited to salt meat and yellow beans the night after. : – ))

( Translation: Gunnbjörg )

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