It was partly a matter of the simple fact that late fall was slaughtering time. Anything that could not be preserved had to be eaten. For instance, hens too old to lay eggs anymore and all the roosters but the chief of the flock were often killed at this time. Roasted chicken had been an uncommon treat for the show folks back in America, since flocks of chickens were uncommon on the plains, and each one precious; chickens were common in Germany, and at Oktoberfest chicken was standard fare.

Then there were the sausages, using every scrap of every sort of meat available; without smokehouses, it was hard for the folk of the plains to make things like sausage, bacon and ham. For some of the cowboys, the many sorts and flavors of sausage had come as a revelation. And several of them had vowed to eat their way through every variety of sausage they could discover.

And then there was Schwarzwald ham. Ham was a rich man’s meat, back in America, especially where these folks were from. Beef was everyday food for them, they were surrounded by cattle. Pig . . . no.

But especially during Oktoberfest, pork was common, not only domestic pig but wild boar, and Black Forest Ham was a readily available specialty. The cowboys were . . . well, very happy.

“Where are we going for supper?” Giselle asked Rosa, as she closed the cupboard under the bed on her latest gift. They had both returned to her vardo after breakfast. Rosa was perched on the little pull-down seat and tapped her lips with a finger thoughtfully.

“Hmm, good question. We haven’t been to the Alpingarten yet, and the owners have come by several times asking me pointedly if you and I were going to visit.” Rosa licked her lips. “I’m told the spaetzel is as fluffy as a plate of clouds.”

“Oh, not a biergarten then?” Giselle grinned.

“Not one of the giant ones, no, a nice little tented version of their restaurant. I thought you might appreciate something other than sausages.” Rosa raised an eyebrow. “And appreciate eating with all the utensils, not just a knife and fork.”

“But I like sausages,” Giselle retorted.

“Sauerbraten mit spaetzel,” tempted Rosa, a little smile on her face.

“Oh!” Giselle exclaimed, her mouth watering at the mere thought. “Yes, yes, yes!”