Rajesh Nair, the manager of the Viking Sea’s World Café, bid us farewell and returned to his duties. We made our way inside the restaurant and settled at a table for two by the window.
The World Café follows a self-seating system, so there is no need to wait for a host. Guests are free to choose their own tables. Most are designed for two or four people, although larger communal tables are also available for those who wish to share a table or dine in a bigger group. Sharing a table can be a wonderful opportunity to meet new people and strike up conversations.
But when fatigue and hunger take over, life becomes rather prosaic. At that moment, I was far more interested in food than in meeting strangers or making small talk. While waiting for the food stations to open, I took a leisurely look around the restaurant.
The oak tables and chairs, decorated in a combination of white, gray, and light brown, looked simple yet comfortable. There were no tablecloths. Each place setting was neatly arranged with a white napkin, a set of rolled cutlery, and a drinking glass. A jug of water had already been placed on the table, along with small shakers of salt and pepper.
At exactly one o’clock, a welcome briefing was broadcast over the public-address system. The captain’s first announcement followed. In a deep, resonant voice, he greeted us with, “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Viking Sea,” before delivering a brief introductory speech.
He informed us that another announcement would be made around two o’clock, once our staterooms were ready. We could then go to our rooms and rest. In the meantime, the dining facilities were being opened, and we were invited to relax and enjoy the hospitality of the ship’s crew.
As soon as the announcement ended, the galley and restaurant teams rolled up the white curtains covering the food stations. The moment lunch service began, the guests who had been waiting gathered into lines in front of the counters.
We joined them, too.
Before leaving our table, we propped our two backpacks upright on the chairs to indicate that the table was occupied and discourage anyone else from taking our seats.
Like the buffet restaurants in five-star hotels, the World Café had several distinct food stations. Before picking up our plates, we took a tour of the counters to survey the lunch menu. Delicious dishes were arranged in tempting rows, one after another.
Choosing healthy food from such an enticing spread was no easy task. Eating less in the name of health consciousness was even harder. So, with a somewhat combative determination that could be summed up as Whatever happens, let’s eat first!, we plunged into the business of collecting our food.
We began at the cold section, which featured cheeses and cold cuts, including ham, salami, and smoked salmon. The salad bar offered a variety of fresh ingredients and dressings. Guests could choose whatever they liked and create their own salads. For those who preferred something simpler or wanted a smaller portion, ready-made salads were available in individual bowls.
Since there was so much variety, I wanted to sample as many dishes as possible. I certainly did not want to fill myself up with salad before exploring everything else.
Although Babul was not quite the foodie that I was, he decided to follow my lead. We picked up a few pieces of cheese and two small bowls of ready-made salad and began our culinary adventure.
The idea was to awaken our taste buds with a little flavorful cheese and a few mouthfuls of leafy greens before moving on to the more exciting offerings.
After finishing our salads, we headed for the Asian corner. There we found noodles, fried rice, spring rolls, pizza, and cauliflower soup.
The moment we lifted the lid of the soup container, its appearance, taste, and aroma seemed to cast a spell over us. There was simply no resisting it!
We returned to our table with two bowls of cauliflower soup. As the hot, steaming, velvety liquid slid down my throat, I felt so wonderfully content that my eyes almost closed in bliss. The exquisite combination of cauliflower and butter lingered on my tongue long after the last spoonful.
We had plenty of time, so I decided there would be no rushing. This was an occasion to slow down, savor every bite, and enjoy the food to the fullest.
Our next destination was the hot food, or carving, station, where the main courses were served. The selection included roasted pork loin, roast beef, grilled fish, bean curry, roasted vegetables, and white rice.
A food-service attendant informed us that there was also a live-action station where chefs could prepare eggs or fish right in front of us upon request. Made-to-order pasta was available as well. Guests could place an order by providing their stateroom number, and a waiter would deliver the food to their designated table. Alternatively, they could return to collect it themselves after a short wait.
There was no need to stand in line holding a plate. Clean, warmed plates were conveniently stacked on the lower shelves of each station.
Babul and I picked up our plates and selected roast beef, grilled fish, bean curry, and a modest serving of white rice. Thus began the main course of our lunch.
A table-service waiter soon approached us and asked whether we would like juice, wine, or beer.
From her appearance, I wondered whether she might be from the same part of the world as Rajesh. I glanced discreetly at the name tag on her chest.
Mary D’Silva.
I ordered a glass of red wine for myself and asked whether non-alcoholic red wine was available for Babul.
Mary nodded reassuringly.
“Of course! You can order either red or white wine.”
When Babul expressed a preference for red wine, Mary went to fetch it. A short while later, she returned carrying two bottles. Drawing Babul’s attention to their labels, she explained,
“I don’t want you to have any doubts about what you’re drinking. That’s why I’ve brought the bottles with me.”
Pointing to the words non-alcoholic on the labels, she asked Babul’s permission to open the bottles.
When he agreed, she poured a small amount of red wine into a glass and handed it to him.
“Please, give it a taste.”
As Babul began sipping the red wine, Mary poured a little white wine from the other bottle into a separate glass and offered it to him.
“Now, please try the white wine. Whichever one you prefer, I’ll be happy to serve you that.”
We were genuinely impressed by Mary’s thoughtfulness and sincerity, and we thanked her warmly.
Babul preferred the white wine. Mary filled his glass generously, smiled sweetly, and said,
“Sir, enjoy your drink! Just let me know if you need anything else. I’ll be around.”
When she offered me another glass of wine, I politely declined with a shake of my head and thanked her once again.
Our final stop was the dessert section.
Tiramisu, Italy’s famous dessert, immediately caught my attention. The little beauties seemed to beckon me with irresistible, seductive glances, as though whispering, Here I am! Look at me!
The greedy little child inside me squealed with delight.
At last, I’ve found you!
But then came the dilemma: which one should I choose, and which should I leave behind?
Several other popular desserts stood there, dressed up and ready to tempt us. Panna cotta, cannoli, panettone—what wasn’t there?
The Italian gelato seemed to laugh at me with an air of playful arrogance.
Heh, heh! Let’s see how long you can control yourself. You can’t possibly leave without tasting me. Go on, let’s see you try!
Tiramisu is one of Italy’s most internationally popular desserts, but the dessert counter offered a whole world of temptation. It was like a famous Italian gelato bar, with an impressive assortment of sweets arranged in enticing rows.
There was also freshly baked bread, pastries, and a selection of freshly cut fruits.
Resisting all these delicacies was extraordinarily difficult. If someone like me, a relatively light eater with a particular weakness for sweets, was struggling to maintain self-control, imagine how difficult it must have been for Babul, who was a true sweet lover!
I turned to look at him. He was staring at the dessert counter with wide, eager eyes.
He reminded me of a hungry wolf eyeing a goat standing innocently within reach. Judging by the look on his face, he was already plotting his attack on the sweets.
“Hold on,” I told him. “There’s no need to take too many things at once. First, we have to remember your diabetes and my prediabetes. Let’s take just one piece of a few different items and share them between us. We’ll do the same with the ice cream. We’ll get one cup with a single scoop each of a few different flavors and share it.”
After all, as the saying goes, Eat a little, but don’t deprive yourself entirely!
Our elder son, Sumit, had already given us permission to indulge ourselves without hesitation.
“Mom, Dad, eat whatever you feel like eating,” he had told us. “Room service, soft drinks, specialty coffee, and tea are complimentary around the clock. Tips for the waiters and the cost of the food are all included. We’ve already paid for everything. So, don’t worry—just enjoy yourselves!”
Remembering our son’s reassuring words, we decided to make the most of the occasion. We sampled a generous variety of foods—everything from dishes that could be chewed and crunched to those that could be savored, licked, or sipped. We ate to our hearts’ content, thoroughly enjoying every bite.
Meanwhile, the guests who had spent the earlier part of the day exploring the ship began returning to the restaurant. They were joined by many more passengers who had only just come aboard.
Gradually, the number of diners increased. The empty tables and chairs filled up, and the restaurant’s once-peaceful atmosphere grew lively with snippets of conversation in a medley of languages and accents.
Even though we had finished eating, we remained seated at our table, waiting for the next announcement.
Every time I glanced toward the food stations, the beautifully presented dishes stirred my appetite all over again.
