Julebord
Saturday, 2. December 2006, 17:35:59
Last night was the company holiday party.
220 people went and everyone had on their finest finery ranging from sneakers and an untucked shirt with a tie to a full tuxedo. The man in the red shirt with a bolo tie and Texas-style suit jacket had the perfect Continental Club look. Before we left, pockets of men in suits clustered in the hallways to begin the pre-party drinking.
The women were in cocktail dresses, evening make-up, and high-maintenance hair. I have to say that all of the color and curlers and crimping and spraying did several of the women a dis-service as they seem more elegant, to me, in their work clothes with a more simple look.
Overall it was a typical corporate party. There were some speeches, some prizes, some humorous photos followed by the smokers fleeing out of doors, the dancers taking to the floor, and the drinkers collecting unused tickets and heading to the bar.
One thing that placed us squarely in Norway was the "skål" toasting. At several tables it began as low rumble, building like a Tibetan chant or a collective Mongolian throat singing, into one long sustained syllable rising to fill the room. Often the people would rise with the sound and at one point a table of 10 were all standing on their chairs to keep rising with the sound. To be fair, there was the traditional "skål" and looking at each person in turn, then drinking but there was also this deep multi-tonal, minutes-long, Ohm-like "skoooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOlllllll". It was very impressive.
The dinner itself was quite nice. Since the location and menu were all secret, I had requested a vegetarian option. The planners made a sign with a cut out picture of a carrot that would stand like a flag at our place so the waiters would know. Kenneth thought this was a riot and made a sign for his place in the shape of a steak so they would know he was carnivore. However, I learned the menu before dinner and as it was all safe for me, I bequeathed my carrot on a stick to a strict vegetarian who had forgotten hers.
The dinner came in 3 courses. We started with a small halibut lasagna on a bed of greens. It was very light, no cheese, and about the size and shape of a normal cut of baklava. It was served with a nice but not outstanding white wine from Alsace. Very minerally, not too sweet. The young German next to me thought it was served a couple years too soon. He was quiet until the conversation turned to wines from the Mosel and Alsace region near where he grew up. He was pleased that Americans seem to be discovering Rieslings and expressed his distaste for Liebfraumilch and embarassment that this was what Americans associated with German wine.
Our fish course was followed by duck. The large portion was served with a, rather safe traditional, rich brown sauce and accompanied by a stuffed mushroom and slice of a cucumber-sized squash that had been hollowed out and filled with a vegetable puree. The duck was cooked very well and the fat just slip away from the meat. It was so dark and without the greasy quality that duck sometimes has that several people at the table thought it was beef. This was served with a red wine that was quite appropriate to the meal, rich without being overbearing.
Our dessert was a layer of white chocolate mousse over dark chocolate mousse with our logo on it. Served with coffee. Each table came with Christmas crackers (the kind that pop when you pull them with a joke and crown inside) and bubbles. Conversation was good and all over the map with a surprising shortage of geek-speak.
I met the young man from Bombay who is working on fixing the problem many of you have had leaving comments on this site. He's an interesting fellow, reads Dostoevsky, Somerset Maughm, and re-reads Sidhartha by Herman Hesse every year. He said his copy is in tatters.
I took the early bus home and had a nice visit with my boss on the way back. And then I learned an important lesson ...
If you ever don't take your phone somewhere, it will be the one time there is hold up with the dog shipping and your wife has tried 16 times to reach you. The dog shipper needed me to confirm with Lufthansa Cargo here in Oslo before everyone had the all clear for the dogs to come. My wife told the shippers, "he can't do it today on account of being surrounded by drunken Norwegians". Could there be a better excuse?
220 people went and everyone had on their finest finery ranging from sneakers and an untucked shirt with a tie to a full tuxedo. The man in the red shirt with a bolo tie and Texas-style suit jacket had the perfect Continental Club look. Before we left, pockets of men in suits clustered in the hallways to begin the pre-party drinking.
The women were in cocktail dresses, evening make-up, and high-maintenance hair. I have to say that all of the color and curlers and crimping and spraying did several of the women a dis-service as they seem more elegant, to me, in their work clothes with a more simple look.
Overall it was a typical corporate party. There were some speeches, some prizes, some humorous photos followed by the smokers fleeing out of doors, the dancers taking to the floor, and the drinkers collecting unused tickets and heading to the bar.
One thing that placed us squarely in Norway was the "skål" toasting. At several tables it began as low rumble, building like a Tibetan chant or a collective Mongolian throat singing, into one long sustained syllable rising to fill the room. Often the people would rise with the sound and at one point a table of 10 were all standing on their chairs to keep rising with the sound. To be fair, there was the traditional "skål" and looking at each person in turn, then drinking but there was also this deep multi-tonal, minutes-long, Ohm-like "skoooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOlllllll". It was very impressive.
The dinner itself was quite nice. Since the location and menu were all secret, I had requested a vegetarian option. The planners made a sign with a cut out picture of a carrot that would stand like a flag at our place so the waiters would know. Kenneth thought this was a riot and made a sign for his place in the shape of a steak so they would know he was carnivore. However, I learned the menu before dinner and as it was all safe for me, I bequeathed my carrot on a stick to a strict vegetarian who had forgotten hers.
The dinner came in 3 courses. We started with a small halibut lasagna on a bed of greens. It was very light, no cheese, and about the size and shape of a normal cut of baklava. It was served with a nice but not outstanding white wine from Alsace. Very minerally, not too sweet. The young German next to me thought it was served a couple years too soon. He was quiet until the conversation turned to wines from the Mosel and Alsace region near where he grew up. He was pleased that Americans seem to be discovering Rieslings and expressed his distaste for Liebfraumilch and embarassment that this was what Americans associated with German wine.
Our fish course was followed by duck. The large portion was served with a, rather safe traditional, rich brown sauce and accompanied by a stuffed mushroom and slice of a cucumber-sized squash that had been hollowed out and filled with a vegetable puree. The duck was cooked very well and the fat just slip away from the meat. It was so dark and without the greasy quality that duck sometimes has that several people at the table thought it was beef. This was served with a red wine that was quite appropriate to the meal, rich without being overbearing.
Our dessert was a layer of white chocolate mousse over dark chocolate mousse with our logo on it. Served with coffee. Each table came with Christmas crackers (the kind that pop when you pull them with a joke and crown inside) and bubbles. Conversation was good and all over the map with a surprising shortage of geek-speak.
I met the young man from Bombay who is working on fixing the problem many of you have had leaving comments on this site. He's an interesting fellow, reads Dostoevsky, Somerset Maughm, and re-reads Sidhartha by Herman Hesse every year. He said his copy is in tatters.
I took the early bus home and had a nice visit with my boss on the way back. And then I learned an important lesson ...
If you ever don't take your phone somewhere, it will be the one time there is hold up with the dog shipping and your wife has tried 16 times to reach you. The dog shipper needed me to confirm with Lufthansa Cargo here in Oslo before everyone had the all clear for the dogs to come. My wife told the shippers, "he can't do it today on account of being surrounded by drunken Norwegians". Could there be a better excuse?
