Shop Local: Poultry Farm Shop

This blog post combines two of my favorite things: Falconry and shopping in local farm shops!

It's perhaps not a post for vegetarians, but Kaya is not one of those and neither are we.

Our mentor showed me this farm shop in Neustetten, a tiny town about 18 km / 20 minutes from home. The big grocery store is just four minutes away by car. Is the drive worth it, with gas prices so high? 

ABSOLUTELY!!  (especially with our electric car...)

This is the shop connected to a chicken farm, and our mentor told us they slaughter on Mondays, which means on Tuesdays they have fresh chicken and chicken parts for sale. So whenever we're running low on tidbits for Kaya's training, I make a drive here on Tuesday morning. I buy two packs of Hühnermägen (chicken stomachs) and today I also picked up Hühnerherzen (chicken hearts).

Gross, you think? I beg your pardon! This is Swabia, where generations ago many people were poor. Nothing - or very little - from the animal, be it cow, pig or chicken, was wasted, and Innereien (offal, giblets) were turned into delicacies that are still enjoyed today. Ok, not by me, but when I told my Schwiegermutter what I'd bought this morning, she did not know if it was for Kaya or for us. A family friend has cooked Hühnermägen and according to her, M liked them when he was younger!

In fact I plan to get there within an hour of the shop opening, because I want to make sure they're not sold out of the giblets. Because the demand is perhaps not SO high, these bits are also not expensive. From one package I can get portions for 12 training sessions, and it only costs €2,50.

Hühnermägen rinsed and ready to be cut up for tidbits.
It's just meat, really.

This shop is not just about chickens. They sell fruits, vegetables, spices, fresh herbs, plants, flour, oil, canned and jarred goods, nuts, noodles, and today I saw traditional German Christmas treats like Zimtsterne, Lebkuchen and Schoko-Vanillekipferl. 

Later I spent half an hour cutting one package of Hühnermägen into tidbit pieces for training, and when we trained Kaya this afternoon she had fresh (not frozen-thawed) tidbits, which she must have enjoyed even more than usual.

At the end of training; she's still manteling
to let M know she'd happily take some more.

These local farm shops are one of the many reasons I love living where we do - basically out in the countryside. We will keep doing what we can to support these shops even though they're not as convenient as the big stores where all the goods arrive on delivery trucks from who-knows-where.

I bought more today than what Kaya needs, of course. I brought home some Hähnchenkeulen (drumsticks) to make Jamie Oliver's Hit-and-Run-Chicken, along with all the vegetables that go in it. Bananas, raspberries, and shelled walnuts topped off the items I snatched up. 

Their special for this week reflects another southern German tradition:

November 1st is Allerheiligen (All Saints' Day) and November 2nd is All Souls' Day. Allerheiligen is a stiller Feiertag here in the south, which means stores, schools and businesses are closed and people visit their relatives' graves, decorate them for the season, and light candles. The shop is offering Grabschmuck, or decorations and flowers most fitting for the pre-winter planting.

On the way home I stopped at another favorite family-owned shop - the bakery in our neighboring town. Fresh bread, rolls, croissants, and a sweet treat. Those were all for us humans, though. Kaya is all about the meat.

I wish you a happy end of October!

Exondo Outdoor Shop

With September creeping ever nearer, hunters in Germany are gearing up for hunting season. Some game has been open since May 1^st, and wild boars are open year-round because there are so many of them and ASP (Afrikanische Schweinepest) is a constant threat. For further details about hunting seasons in Baden-Württemberg, see this link.

Each year about this time hunters have to take a look at their equipment, tools, clothes, and supplies and figure out what they can still use, what needs replacing, and what new products are needed. Then it’s time to decide where to go to restock.

Every student at a Jagdschule gets the Frankonia Jungjäger Startpaket, so M and I have gone to their store in Stuttgart several times in the past. Although it carries a wide variety of supplies, we always feel like we’re paying premium prices for the name, as they spend a lot of money on advertising and they are a big chain. We prefer smaller family-run suppliers with whom it is possible to develop a trusting relationship, as in you can get to know them and vice versa. The customer service in smaller, more personal shops is close to what you'll find in the U.S., something that most U.S. expats miss. Dare I say it’s nice to be on a first-name basis as well. 

A few weeks ago we drove to a new (for us) hunter supply shop - Exondo in Meßstetten (Zollernalbkreis), owned and run by Mike Fortino. Mike is a hunter and Revierinhaber as well, so he can often tell you about the equipment he sells from firsthand experience. He has a deutsche Jagdterrier who spends most mornings in the shop.

Exondo sells clothing, especially the outer layers in hunter orange and camo, but he says his focus is more on the tools for hunting and personal advice and consulting. One of his strengths is night vision and thermal imaging devices and optics. If you tell him what you’re preparing for or what problems you’re having, he has ideas to get you where you want to be.

Mike has an online shop where you can find out more about the company itself and what it offers, but of course a visit there is where you get the personal consultation and hands-on knowledge of the items you’re considering. 

If you have specific needs, you can make an appointment with Mike during regular business hours (Mon-Fri, 9:00 - 17:00) and he will devote that time to you and answering your questions.

M and I have received our first invitation to a Drückjagd as Schützen in December, and we’re looking forward to the experience. We have been Treiber (drivers/beaters) at this and two other Drückjagden in the past two years, but being in the role of hunters carrying guns rather than sticks will be entirely different. Instead of bundling up and tromping through the forest, sweating despite the winter weather, we’ll each be standing still in a Hochsitz (deer stand) for those 2-3 hours, feeling the chill more than while driving.

Mike fixed us up with a variety of hats, and I found some nice warm gloves as well. M bought some boxes of ammunition, which we continue to need to restock because we practice frequently at the shooting range. We’re fixed for guns, but Mike has a variety of hunting and sport weapons in stock, as well as binoculars, scopes, range finders, suppressors and pretty much everything else a hunter needs.

Exondo definitely has advantages for me over that bigger store, despite the 50-minute drive. The drive to downtown Stuttgart does not take less time, and big city driving – no thank you. Parking is expensive in Stuttgart but free and convenient at Exondo - American-style, right at their front door. But more than that...

• Personal consultation, also by telephone and email
• I know who will be helping me
• Mike also speaks English
• Friendly, knowledgable and helpful customer service
• Free delivery with online orders over €100
• Dog in the shop (we were there in the afternoon, which is why I have no photos of him)
• He is located near the well-known Schrotpatronen dealer, Alfred Feistel, so we can do two errands in one trip

I know several of those points appeal mainly to Americans, but what can I say? A personal touch matters to us, and we like to shop where the proprietor knows who we are and wants to sell us what we need rather than what he needs to sell,

In a future post I will write about our experience visiting the Falkner-Shop in Konstanz.

Disclaimer: While the thoughts and opinions expressed here are solely my own and genuine, Mike did give us a good deal on our purchases along with the hunting hats.

The Storm before the Calm

It's Christmas week! Although it's warm like autumn here with no snow in sight - which is totally fine by me! - we're making final preparations for our small Christmas celebration. The tree is up and decorated (American tradition - do it early so you can enjoy it longer!), the Advent wreath's fourth candle was lit last night, the nativity scene is arranged though Baby Jesus is in the drawer with the remote controls until Christmas Eve (why that drawer? So we don't forget where we stashed Him), the meat has been ordered, the outside icicle lights are up and on a timer to turn on every morning and evening, most of the presents are wrapped, and the stockings are hung.

I believe I have all the groceries we need for the next two weeks except for what I'll get from our vegetable guy tomorrow evening and the meat I'll pick up at the butcher. But today I did have to go to the grocery store one last time for a few additional things.

What a ZOO!!!

Monday is always somewhat busy at the store because it's closed every Sunday and people are getting ready for the next week. But today was even worse - I barely found a parking space - because of what's coming at the end of the week.

On Thursday, Christmas Eve, the store is open until 14:00 (2:00 pm). It will re-open the following Monday. That's right - the grocery store is closed on Christmas Day, Boxing Day (the 2nd Day of Christmas), and on the 27th because stores are always closed on Sundays here.

I've said it before - I really like it that the stores are closed and even the employees - all the employees - can spend the holiday time with their families. Sure, it can be inconvenient for us, like last year when I forgot to buy the pork roast that was to be dinner on New Year's Day and only realized this 20 minutes after the stores closed on New Year's Eve. M foraged around in the freezer and found four duck legs, and we had a wonderful meal anyway - trying out a new recipe besides!

the Barbarie Entenkeule that should have been a roast

Everyone has to plan ahead around the holidays and stock up on the things one can't do without, like coffee, milk, bread... I've made a list and checked it thrice, and this morning I went to the store along with the entire rest of the community. Shopping carts everywhere, grannies and their mates trudging along very, very slowly, younger people half pushing, half leaning on their carts while diddling with their cell phones, temporarily abandoned carts blocking shelves everywhere, employees stocking shelves and pulling huge carts around the store dodging customers, neighbors stopping in the middle of the aisles to chat, a line at the butcher, a line at the cheese counter, a line at the bakery, a line at the produce scales, and a long line at the checkout. Ugh. The only way to keep your sanity is to be patient and appear friendly. Nailed it.

This is so last year - this year we have only balls on the tree and no snow.

Although the stores will be crazy tomorrow and Wednesday as well, as of mid-day on Thursday all will calm down and we'll enjoy the quiet. Three and a half days of no shopping, no fighting crowds exchanging unwanted gifts, no dashing about for after-Christmas sales. Just quiet time with family. Walks in the valley, perhaps a snowless drive into the Black Forest, rounds of Trivial Pursuit, holiday films, reflecting on the past year and planning for next, and relaxing. The Germans really know how to do Christmas!

As for us, it will be just M, my Schwiegermutter, and me this year. My parents and kids have some grand plans in the U.S. (for instance driving from Wisconsin to Disney World and back over a week). We'll make Raclette on Christmas Eve, Lamb Stew on Christmas Day, Fondue (with soup, not oil!) on New Year's Eve, and on the other days Cordon Bleu, Shepherd's Pie, Ostpreußische Schusterpastete, and grilled pork (Schweinehals) with Bratkartoffeln.

Oh jeez...there I am going on about food again.

I wish you a very Merry Christmas and a good slide into the New Year! May 2016 bring peace.

Size Matters in America

M and I decided to brave the Saturday grocery store crowd yesterday because we needed just a few things and wouldn't even need a cart to navigate through the slow-moving hoards. I remembered we were low on Toastbrot, so I grabbed a loaf. I've written about German bread before, as most expat bloggers have, but today I want to write about American bread as Germans see it.

Toastbrot is the processed, packaged-in-plastic bread that has a shelf life of about three weeks and is really only good for making...well, toast. It comes in white or wheat varieties, the slices are 9 cm (about 3.5 inches) square, and they fit nicely into the toaster. No self-respecting German would eat that bread "raw", though this is the closest to what Americans normally use for sandwiches. Its quality is a bit better than Wonderbread®, but eaten raw it still sticks to the roof of your mouth.

Germans have this idea that everything in America is BIG. I wonder how they got that idea... Anyway, this is Toastbrot marketed for the benefit of visiting Americans, complete with American flag design on the packaging to draw us in:

Look! It's American bread!

Why is it American sandwich bread? Because it's....50% bigger than regular German Toastbrot. These huge honkin' slices of squishy packaged bread are 11 cm by delicious 11 cm of good ol' processed American goodness. The package says a special dough is used to keep the bread extra soft - just like Americans like it.

Here you can see a slice of the little German Toastbrot next to the big mother slice of American sandwich bread.

The whole bigger is better thing in America is widely known here, as seen in American movies and TV shows aired on German TV - SUVs and family vans, TVs, houses, garages, yards, hotels, beds, parking lots, super stores, garbage cans...

And it's not just a false perception of Germans. I bought this bottle of cold medicine in the U.S. last time I was there, but only noticed the "50% bigger" label the other day. Wait, this is medicine. "Bigger" medicine? Didn't they mean 50% more effective? Nope. Just bigger. As in this 8-ounce bottle is bigger. 50% bigger than what? Read the fine print.

"50% bigger than our 8-ounce size"
Thanks for the math lesson.

This bottle contains 12 ounces - not just 8! - of near-coma-inducing elixir. It tastes like shit (though with a little imagination the green flavor can taste vaguely like ouzo), but a dram of this and I can only hang on for about 24 minutes before I'm out cold for the rest of the night. Despite her many faults, America does know how to do cold medicine.

Back to the BIGASS AMERICAN sandwich bread, in trying to figure out what to do with all this Toastbrot I bought, I decided I could make french toast (Germans call that Armer Ritter, or "poor knight") for brunch this morning. I haven't made that in a coon's age, and I have all the ingredients I need including maple syrup, which is totally uncommon here (it's too sweet for the Germans). The only trouble is that I'll have to squish or cut the American sandwich bread to fit two pieces into my German pan.

Closed for Christmas

Can you believe there are only three (or four, depending on when and how you celebrate) days until Christmas?!? Today is a quiet Sunday - remember all stores and businesses are closed on Sundays in Germany - and we've lit our fourth Advent candle on the Adventskranz (wreath). Although I did some cleaning and laundry this morning (shhh...don't tell anyone!), I've spent most of the afternoon alternately reading and napping.

This is how my daughter and I often spend part of Sunday afternoon...
You may not be able to see them, but the books we were just reading
are on the table.

Tomorrow and Tuesday are our last days for making sure we have all the gifts, food, and drinks we need for the days of Christmas, and I'm already fearing the madness we'll face at the grocery store. Granted, many stores (including our grocery store and the local butcher) are open on Christmas Eve morning, but that is not the day I want to go shopping. I will walk to the butcher that morning to pick up our Christmas order with all the meat we'll need through Sunday, but that's not the same as shopping.

As of noon on Christmas Eve, stores here are closed. If I forgot an ingredient for any of our planned dishes, too bad for me. If we run out of something we didn't anticipate running out of, bad luck. Stores are closed on Christmas Day, Boxing Day (that's December 26th, Americans), and Sunday the 28th. Can you imagine what the grocery store is going to be like on Saturday? Wild horses wouldn't lure me into that store or any other that day, and I love horses!

I am pretty sure my American readers cannot fathom living in a place where groceries are not readily available at least somewhere at any time of any day. "What if we run out of milk before we make the mashed potatoes because Aunt Ellen uses more than we expected for her coffee every morning?!" "What if Uncle Dan drinks all the beer on Christmas Eve and we've got none left for the football game on Christmas Day?!" Over here, you deal with it and do without. And there's no football (or any other sport I've aware of) on Christmas Day.

Why are stores closed on December 26th? For the same reason they're closed on Karfreitag (Good Friday), Ostermontag (Easter Monday), Dreikönigstag (Epiphany), Christi Himmelfahrt (Ascension Day), and five other religiously important days during the year in addition to January 1st, Labor Day, and Tag der Deutschen Einheit (the Day of German Unity).

Get this -- families in Germany are encouraged and able to spend Sundays and holidays together relaxing, celebrating, or doing whatever else they want to do without being tempted by big holiday sales promising life-changing savings on items one should not even consider trying to live without. Even the poor souls who work in retail and cashiers are able - downright forced - to have these days off to spend them as they will (as long as they're not doing noisy yard work, and in some communities their neighbors will talk if they are even hanging laundry outside to dry, since one really should not do work of any kind on Sundays or holidays!). Husbands cannot be sent to the store by their wives because an item on the grocery list was forgotten, which also means they also don't have an excuse to pick up an extra case of beer.

Those working in gastronomy tell a different tale, since restaurants are generally open on Sundays and holidays - and therefore most choose a different day of the week (often Mondays) to close for the evening. This is very helpful for the rest of us, who have little else to do on Sundays and holidays than go for a hike or bike ride followed by a nice meal out, but I do feel sad for them knowing they have less family time than the rest of us.

And here's the thing, though I've said it before: I love the fact that stores are closed on Sundays and holidays in the name of family ("Family Values", anyone? You know...that phrase that's thrown around passionately in U.S. politicians' campaign speeches and mud-flinging when it suits their purpose to use it?). That means we have to plan ahead and make sure we know exactly what we need for each meal during an extended period like this week. That's not exactly a hardship.

I think it's blinking ironic that in a country where so many give lip service to "family values" (the U.S., I mean), families are lured away from home on holidays into stores to fight (fist fight, in lots of cases, particularly on Black Friday) other shoppers for the lowest prices on the current season's most popular items. The insanity of Black Friday now begins the day before - on Thanksgiving. I suppose it doesn't make any difference. A third of the country is sitting in front of their TVs watching football, another third is fast asleep in a food coma from the Thanksgiving meal (this enormous and delicious multi-course meal is usually consumed in less time than it takes an Italian to enjoy a glass of wine), so what's wrong with the rest going to work and shopping?

I guess that's one way to do a holiday.

For me, I will continue to enjoy our enforced quiet holidays and the fact that our community is basically closed for Christmas.

Frohe Weihnachten from our house to yours!

September Highs and Lows

In August I briefly tried a weekly update based on an idea from another blogger, but after three of those I decided to change to what I used to do with my kids at dinner (yes, my kids and I had dinner together most evenings even when they were teenagers!). I'd ask them "What was your high today?" and "What was your low today?" Come to think of it, I may start that with them again despite the distance and that they are both in college. Highs and Lows: Facebook edition, perhaps.

Anyway, I thought for blog purposes I'd keep track of my highs and lows for the month, and publish at the end. So here we go...

HIGHS

• Spending a long weekend in Vienna with my Schwiegermutter, where we met my parents who were there celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary. It was fabulous! My parents were on a cruise with a group of friends from Sheboygan and several relatives, so in addition to it being a special occasion, it was fun to see 12 other people I knew from "back home" as well!


• While standing in the middle of a square in Vienna studying our map, I happened to see a group of people walk past us with "Esslinger Feuerwehr" (Esslingen Fire Department) on the backs of their jackets! As I pointed that out to my Schwiegermutter, three of them turned around and looked back because they had recognized us!*  Those "small world" experiences always blow my mind. The number of things that had to happen at exactly the right time for us to bump into each other in a huge city...


• During my Schwiegermutter's "Fun with English" (adult) course, one gentleman said to me, "You don't really speak like an American. I can understand you." My British Schwiegermutter replied, "Oh yes, although she's American, she speaks very good English!"  :-)


• Receiving nine emails from my son, who has started college for real. He took classes last year at the local UW-extension, but now he's living in a dorm with a great roommate and doing well!


• Finally - after five failed attempts this summer - participating in a guided city tour of Horb!


• Trying a new roast beef recipe, which turned out to be delicious - due mainly to my husband's skills in the kitchen. It was equally good the next day, even cold.


• Reading other expat bloggers' posts about traveling, everyday life, adventures, frustrations and successes. I still get excited when I see that someone on my "blog roll" has published something new, and we sometimes comment on each others' posts. Hm...I'm enjoying connecting with people. This is new...


• Finding a message buried in Facebook from a former German exchange student (2004). She wrote to me in March, but I never noticed the "other" tab in the messages section of Facebook! I've finally responded and hopefully we'll connect. This was not a student who lived with us - rather she attended the school where I was teaching and was a student in my English (American Literature) class.


• Dining twice at our favorite local restaurant and finding out the chef is doing another Kochkurs (cooking class) this fall.

Bäckchen vom Jungschwein in Schnittlauchrahmsauce mit Gemüse und Bratkartoffeln
Cheeks of a young pig in chive sauce with vegetables and fried potatoes

• Sunday afternoon naps on the sofa during Formula-1 races. Who am I kidding? Afternoon naps on the sofa even on non-Sundays.


• Watching this 10-minute clip of the Daily Show with Jon Stewart. I find him (usually) so darn funny, and I do miss his show.


• An impromptu train ride to Stuttgart just to bum around the Big City. I explored places in the city I had not seen before - which isn't surprising considering that, other than my nature walk a few weeks ago, I have hardly strayed off the main Fußgängerzone (Königstraße). I'm getting more interested each time I go to Stuttgart!

Galateabrunnen

• While in Stuttgart I actually went shopping! This is unusual for me because I really don't like to shop except for books. I bought a new fall jacket and a pair of shoes I think even my daughter would approve of. And some books.


• Martin made Wiener Schnitzel - the real thing, with veal rather than the pork we usually use. Holy heavens, it was amazing! Unfortunately veal is more expensive than pork €27 ($34) per kilogram versus €12 ($15) at our local butcher, but since the veal needs to be thinner than the pork, the actual price difference between 4 Schweineschnitzel (€6) and 4 Kalbschnitzel (€10,50) is negligible. Consider also that the Wiener Schnitzel my dad had in Vienna cost €23 and the fact that we got 4 meals (2 for each) out of what we bought that day...I can hardly count all the highs in this paragraph!!

• Starting to discuss with Martin a trip back to the Isle of Mull in Scotland for 2015.

Glengorm Castle, where we were married

The view from our quarters

LOWS

• Hm. Uh...


• Ok, got one! Changing back to my fall Federbett (down comforter) on September 1st after using my summer Federbett for less than one month. That's not really a low either, though, because it's so wonderfully cuddly!


• Learning that cappuccino is spelled that way and not "cappucino," and wondering how many times I've spelled it incorrectly in previous blog posts.


• Missing a response from the editor of our local paper asking if he could publish my feedback in the next day's edition because his email had ended up in my spam folder.  :-(

On the horizon for October...

• We have nothing major planned. I'll be teaching the Englisch-AG twice a week and chaperoning the Lebenshilfe group three times total including a day outing to Freudenstadt.


• Sleeping in on October 3rd because it's Tag der Deutschen Einheit - the Day of German Unity - a national holiday. Even M will take most of the day off!


• Hoping to get in a walk from M's mother's place to the Grabkapelle (funerary chapel) Rotenberg, situated on a hill overlooking Stuttgart. This is a walk I fondly remember from my exchange student days. I remembered it being a several-hours walk through lush forests and fields. Google maps (which we didn't have back in 1986) tells me it takes about 45 minutes. Hm.


• Most likely a day trip to Tübingen, since I've been itching to get back there.


• Getting some serious writing done! I hit a slump in the summer when I had plenty of time and no excuses, and now it's time to get going again.


• Yard work.

*I wish I had a great and funny story about why the Esslingen firefighters recognized us, but it's just this: the Feuerwehr hosted a group of visitors from Sheboygan, Wisconsin earlier this summer, and my Schwiegermutter and I accompanied and assisted the group.

What were your highs and lows this month?

Driving in Germany 6: The Day I Almost Killed a Guy

My husband is going to love reading this when he gets home from work today, don't you think? Yes, the title is slightly exaggerated because I was only going 30 km/h, but my hands are still shaking as I type this.

All I did was drive to the grocery store and back. I do that three to four times a week. The 4-minute drive includes a highway (100 km/h), two city sections (50 km/h), our residential area (30 km/h), one roundabout, and a windy road with no shoulder but big trucks parked on at least one side obscuring our vision and narrowing the road further (50 km/h).

Today on the way home I was enjoying the smell of the fresh basil plant nestled on the back seat and the knowledge that I don't have to go to the store tomorrow because we're set for the weekend, and pondering on a blog post about how Germans frequently scold strangers for doing things they disapprove of - something I had just witnessed again while exiting the store.  On that aforementioned narrow windy road in front of me was a little helmeted man on a little moped driving snug against the right curb. He had to navigate around the semi truck parked on the right, and I drove patiently behind him. After the truck he swerved snug against the right side again almost onto the sidewalk, but then meandered out again and slowed down. I'm still behind him, grumbling by this time about his erratic driving, but not overly annoyed. He angled right again and slowed almost to a stop but not quite, and the road was clear of traffic coming toward us, so I merged into the opposite lane to get around him. I did not gun it, as I've seen many drivers do (to me, also) to show their annoyance.

Then Moped Man hit the gas, swerved sharply left - directly in front of me - as if he were crossing traffic to turn into a driveway (there was no driveway right there). I hit my beautiful brakes so hard that I felt the ABS kick in - that car can stop nearly on a dime - though I still have no idea how I did not hit him with my right bumper. I may or may not have yelled something that vaguely rhymed with "rolly duck" as the pot of basil threw itself to the floor of the back seat and the wine bottles bashed against each other in panic.

He just kept going, swerving now back around to the right to go into the Aldi parking lot. I hate this man.

He was being stupid on his stupid little moped, but still... I am not as familiar with driving laws over here as I should be, but I'm pretty sure that if a little old helmeted man is knocked off his stupid little moped by a woman in a big angry Audi, I'm pretty sure he would not be even partially at fault no matter how erratic his driving was. I would have been responsible for his bruises, cuts, soiled trousers, tears, and stupid broken moped.

However, when I drive slowly behind a bicycle, moped, three-wheeled scooter-car, tractor or whatever without passing it when the oncoming lane is clear, I then have fuming Germans behind me making gestures in my rear-view mirror looking like they are going to convulse and rupture making an awful mess if I don't somehow get out of the way.

I hate....HATE...driving over here. I suppose I wouldn't mind at all if there were no other drivers sharing the road with me, but that's unlikely.


Update: I did have to go to the store the next day because I forgot parmesan cheese. I walked.

Things I learned this week

The following is a list of some of the things I learned this week from reading the newspaper, watching documentaries, talking with people...

• Alma mater means "nurturing mother" in Latin. I probably should have known that already.


• There is no other country in the world whose inhabitants throw away more food than the U.S.A.. 


• Despite the fact that there is a direct bus connection between our little town and Nagold, there is no way to find out by phone, email, or internet how much it costs to take the bus there because the towns are in different counties and controlled by different transportation associations. The only way to find out the cost is to get on the bus and ask the bus driver (who will not be happy to provide that information if I just get on the bus, ask him, and get off again).


• Every photo taken with an iPhone is automatically saved in The Cloud. Yet another reason why I am glad I don't have any sort of smartphone. (Then again, the most scandalous photos I take are of statues.) I don't even know if my Handy/cell phone can take photos - I use a camera for that. 


• Our local butcher is closed next week so the owner and employees can have some time off. Good for them! Bad luck for us.





• At the Internationale Funkmesse (International Radio Exhibition) in Berlin, an app was unveiled that allows a person to scan a recipe and the app will send a signal to his or her fancy oven to tell it when to preheat, to which temperature, and how long it should be on. And that's really cool because the hardest part of cooking is often turning on the oven to the correct temperature. Not only that, but setting a timer or looking at a clock is just so old-school.


• There's an app for your coffee maker, too. You can tell your phone to tell your coffee maker to make the next cup stronger. I'll bet there's also an app for flushing your toilet. In 20 years are people going to be able to accomplish anything without a phone in their hands?


• The Colosseum may or may not have been flooded several times in order for the "performers" to reenact sea battles. I thought this was already accepted fact, but apparently researchers are not able to figure out how it was flooded and drained and are therefore unsure that it was.

• Freudenstadt is known for its collection of sculptures. You can follow a Kunstpfad (Art Path) around town with the help of a brochure available in the Stadtinfo. The newest piece, which arrived this week, is this 29-ton thing called "Schwarze Wasser*" ("Black Water"), created by Wolf Brüll:

*I would think it should be called "Schwarzes Wasser," but if it is, it's a typo in our newspaper (twice). There is another similar sculpture in another location in Freudenstadt by the same artist called "Schwarzes Wasser." Apparently the patrons liked the first one so much that they wanted to provide another one just like it...?  I took this picture in a sort of "What the heck is that?" mood, and two days later it showed up in our newspaper - the newspaper photo was from almost this exact angle.

Back OFF, Laddybuck!

I try really hard not to complain about anything over here, and quite honestly, I have very little to complain about. I'd have to make stuff up.

Other expat bloggers have mentioned the insane stress of being in the checkout line at the grocery store, and although I totally know what they're talking about, I'm pretty good at that. My husband - who is one of those Germans who has a look on his face in the grocery store that makes children, body builders, and old ladies scramble to get out of his way in the dairy aisle - taught me well. Get all your crap onto the conveyor belt, have your money handy, and fling those items back into the empty cart at least as fast as the cashier scans them. The Germans behind you in line would like you to be faster than the cashier, but that just doesn't work. For the love of God, do NOT bag your groceries in the checkout lane. Just throw it all back loose in your cart, pay, get the hell out of the way, and transfer your purchases to the reusable bags you brought with you at your car.

My parents will be happy to know that when I am the person waiting for someone else, I wait patiently, and if the person happens to look my way with an "OMG, this is taking SO long. Sorry!" look on his or her face, I grin in a friendly way. No problem! If the worst thing that happens to me today is that I have to wait a few minutes to pay for my groceries, things will be all right.

So I got the grocery store thing - not a problem. In fact, I find things move a bit too slowly for me in grocery stores in the U.S. by now.

American expats also commonly grumble about something I haven't had much of an issue with either. UNTIL TODAY. Americans need more personal space than Germans (Europeans?), and I'm no exception to that. I have frequently used a line from Dirty Dancing, "Hey, this is MY dance space, that's yours" to tell people - usually students of mine - to take a step back.

Today in the checkout lane I could tell there was a person behind me. He kept making the gesture of putting his three things on the conveyor belt before I had finished unloading mine. At one point I half looked at him, hoping he'd get the vibe. "Dude. The cue for you to start loading up is when I put the little plastic divider thingy on the belt behind my groceries. Wait for it....Wait for it...Wait....Ok, now!"

The person in front of me was not finished yet, all my stuff was on the conveyor belt, and guy behind me had spewed his three items onto the belt as well behind the plastic divider thingy. I dutifully flashed the man in front of me a smile when he glanced nervously in my direction, waited patiently, and felt an all-too-close presence behind me. "Ignore it," I said to myself. I bent over ever so slightly to get my wallet out of my purse, and something hit me in the middle butt seam of my jeans. WTH?!?! I turned more than half way around and gave the lad a piercing glance without looking exactly at him. He seemed young - 14, perhaps, with a vacuous "I don't have the foggiest clue about the world" look on his face. I think I had bumped into the bag he was carrying.

Next I'm up at the counter to pay having flung all my items back into my cart, and I feel the kid right at my elbow. Seriously - my husband doesn't stand that close to me in the store! There are many reasons why I do not want strangers rubbing up against me while I'm trying to pay for my groceries, and I doubt I need to go into any of them today. I did finally turn and look directly into his face with an "Are you kidding me?" expression, and he took a third of a step back. In hindsight I wish I had just backed into him to make him move back, but then he would have bumped against the cart of the woman behind him, which was pushed up against his backside. I didn't want to be responsible for the domino-effect mess that would follow.

Next time I'll try what other Americans have done: stay in front of the cart so that there is at least a cart's distance between the next person and me. This doesn't solve the problem entirely because then that person just bumps against my cart with his or her cart, leading to a whole lot of jostling, bumping, and banging, but at least there won't be any rubbing. I can't abide the rubbing.

Or maybe I'll practice this expression.

Photo credit: Xantheose (http://jhgvcgrsr.tumblr.com/)

Seriously, folks. BACK OFF!

Kochen - Cooking in Germany

It took me about one month to realize that all my old stand-by recipes that I brought from the U.S. were useless here. There's no condensed soup here (the former basis of all my sauces), cheddar cheese is too expensive, the cuts of meat are different (there's no "beef round steak", for instance), and everything - starting with the water - tastes different. Not better or worse - just different.

So not long after moving here I shoved my American cookbooks to the back of the shelf and started picking up German magazines and cookbooks. Things have gone better since then. Now when I am in the States and cook something, I have the opposite problem. There's no Quark in America, Gouda cheese is overpriced, the ground meat is not ground fresh while I wait and it's so full of fat that a ton of grease needs to be drained, Butterschmalz (ghee) costs way too much if it's available at all and making enough of it for Schnitzel takes a good hour, and I can't find the right kind of potatoes.

It's not really all that surprising that the same food isn't available in both countries, so you learn to adapt. But since moving here and getting comfortable with German recipes, I've noticed some interesting differences in the instructions.

Pan size

Almost all American recipes tell the cook what size pan, pot, and/or casserole dish to use. "Grease a 9x13-inch pan."  "In a 10-quart casserole dish..." "Use a 1 1/2-quart microwave-safe bowl..." Sometimes it just says, "In a large frying pan..." On the bottom of all or most pans, pots, and casserole dishes, you can find their size - in quarts or inches diameter.

German recipes let the cook decide for himself which pots and pans he'll use. I think he's supposed to know that based on the amount of meat (in grams or kilos) or veggies the recipe calls for. Martin laughs every time he sees the pan size specified in an American recipe. I think to him that's like telling someone what size pants to put on in the morning.

Stove burner setting

Every American recipe I've seen tells the cook which stove temperature to use when frying, boiling, etc. "Heat oil in large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat" is one step for making Pepper Steak Sandwiches. This instruction is for frying the meat, and it defies everything Martin has taught me about cooking meat. Heat the pan first, and on high! Then add the oil! When the oil is nice and hot, add the meat. It should sizzle straight away. Don't heat the pan only to medium-high, because when you add the meat the pan will cool down and the meat will be boiling rather than frying. Now I know why I often screwed up this recipe when I made it in Wisconsin.

German recipes don't tell the cook which temperature to use on the stove. They use verbs, for instance:

    braten = fry

    anbraten = brown or sautee

    anschwitzen = lightly sautee

    aufkochen = bring to a boil

  

If you don't know what setting to use on the stove to achieve those things, figure it out through trial and error or stay out of the kitchen. (That's the message I get from German recipes.)

Measurements

German recipes call for tablespoons and teaspoons, but beyond that all solid ingredients are by weight in grams or kilos and liquid is by volume in liters or milliliters (ml). Every German kitchen has a metric scale onto which the cook puts a bowl or plate and resets the tare weight to zero, and then measures the ingredient. 1 1/4 cups of flour comes to 280 grams. One cup of butter is 227 grams, but one cup of crushed walnuts is 97 grams. No more "3/4 cup firmly packed" brown sugar - packed or not, you need 132 grams for Nestle Tollhouse chocolate chip cookies.

Tablespoons and teaspoons, however, can get confusing. In America, "T" means tablespoon and "t" (uncapitalized) means teaspoon. Every American cook knows that. In German all nouns are capitalized, so "TL" is Teelöffel (teaspoon) and "EL" is Esslöffel (eating spoon or tablespoon). The first few times I cooked with a German recipe, I saw "TL" and automatically thought "Tablespoon" because of the capitalization. With salt or lemon juice, for instance, that can be dangerous. I usually caught myself before mixing anything, but I do remember several times having to dig out 2 teaspoons of some herb or spice (because apparently 1T = 3t).

We have measuring utensils for both metric and cups and ounces in our kitchen, so that makes it a little easier to adapt the recipes that do work on both continents. Martin still refuses to accept "ounce" as a unit of measure, though. "What kind of ridiculously illogical system is that? What's three-fourths of a cup?! It depends on the size of the cup! There are 16 ounces in a pound? You've got to be kidding me." Sadly, the delightfully logical and mathematical metric system - which my third grade teacher assured us America was going to switch to very soon - is difficult for me. I have always sucked at math (just ask my dad; the phrase "one half of one percent" still brings me to tears), so on the occasions when I have to turn liters into fractions in the midst of preparing a meal ("Shit! I need 1/3 liter, and there's no mark for that on the measuring cup!"), I crumble. Martin always raises an eyebrow when I have to write on a recipe next to where it says "1/4 liter Milch", "250 ml".

Meat

I have become an absolute believer in buying meat from a trusted local butcher. Not a butcher in a grocery store, but a real, trained, certified butcher who does business out of a store that doesn't also sell clothing and auto parts. In Germany even the butchers in the grocery store have to be specially trained and certified through an educational program that takes several years, but I'm guessing the meat is still shipped in on trucks from heaven knows where. I can go to our local butcher (a 10-minute walk) and tell her or any of her employees what I want to cook, and she'll pick out the right meat for me if I'm unsure exactly what I need. Those working at the butcher's counter in the grocery store don't have time for that. It's true that the meat is more expensive - in some cases twice as expensive as at the grocery store - but we are convinced the quality is better. Nothing is pre-packaged or pre-cut, the ground meat is not pre-ground, and the animals were born, raised, and slaughtered in Baden-Württemberg.

When I do buy ground beef from the grocery store out of laziness, Martin can always tell. If he walks in while I'm frying beef for tacos, he sniffs the air and says, "Beef from Real?" (Real [RAY-al] is the closest grocery store to us, and it's similar to a decent grocery store plus Target.) He says it just has a funny smell, though I can't tell the difference. There's also more fat in the Real ground beef, although still not enough to have to drain it after frying like ground beef in the U.S..

In Germany I can go to any butcher and ask for "four pork Schnitzel." I have no idea what part of the pig that comes from, and "Schnitzel" just means "cutlet". I went to a butcher in Sheboygan (with a German-sounding name even!) last year and asked for ten pork Schnitzel, and got a blank stare.

Guy: "Do you mean pork chops?"

Me: "No, Schnitzel. No bones. Ok, how about ten slices of that hunk of pork?" (I pointed to what I wanted.)

Guy: "Well, we have these boneless pork chops [already cut]. What about these?"

Me: "No, this piece of pork really looks like what I need. Ten slices, about 1 centim...er, about half an inch thick."

Guy: "Let me just talk to my boss. Hang on a sec."  [He disappears into the back, and reappears with boss.]

Boss: "Hi Ma'am. Are you sure you want slices of this? We have...."

Me: "No, I'm really sure. I don't want pork chops. Ten slices of this will be just perfect."

Boss: "Ok, we'll see what we can do." 

They went into the back again without the hunk of pork I'd pointed to, and one of them re-emerged after a few minutes with a plate of ten slices of pork which looked right. I'm not sure why they didn't just use the exact piece of meat I'd ask for, but I took it, and it worked perfectly. At our butcher here, they cut the meat in front of us, we know exactly what we're getting, and we've never been dissatisfied. We've had good and bad luck at the grocery store.

Cooking at home

Martin and I truly enjoy cooking together. We're a darn good team in the kitchen, and he doesn't get upset when he comes home after ten hours in the office and needs to brown the beef or pork steaks because he's better at it than I am. I don't spring this on him - we usually decide by lunch what we're cooking that evening. I do the Bratkartoffeln, he does the Rösti, he grills (yes, friends, I'm still afraid of grills and always will be), I make the casseroles, he does the sauce or gravy because I don't have the patience, he flattens the Schnitzel and I flour, egg, and bread them. He sharpens the knives, I do the dishes, and whichever one of us notices the floor needs washing washes it.

There's one drawback, though, and that is that our standards are not as low as they once were for dining out! We enjoy the meals we cook so much (though yes, we've had some duds, of course) that we question paying for a meal we'll probably like less. The obvious exception is our favorite restaurant, where we've tried almost everything on the menu and haven't yet had something we wouldn't gladly order again. There are also quite a few restaurants in Esslingen that we really like. But beyond those, I don't get excited about dining out anymore. Why dine out when your own home-cooked meals are so good (and less expensive!)? I'm not saying we're fabulous cooks - rather that we like the meals we cook.

Here are some of our favorites (I am working on the quality of my food pictures, which will hopefully improve soon.): 

Bauernfrühstück - Farmer's Breakfast
potatoes, pork tenderloin, bacon, onions, tomatoes, mushrooms...

Kartoffel-Apfel-Auflauf mit Kasseler
Potato-Apple-Casserole with Kasseler
One of my favorites; not Martin's

Züricher Geschnetzeltes mit Rösti
Zurich Ragout with hashbrowns
I could eat this at least once a week.

Rösti after flipping, which Martin does expertly

Tenderloin wraps

Cracking the Egg Code

I like eggs: scrambled, poached, fried, hard-boiled, omelettes, egg salad sandwiches, breakfast burritos, quiche... In Wisconsin I bought eggs at the grocery store and never thought about or cared where they came from. Germans like to know where their fresh food originated. In this week's grocery store flyer, for instance, I can see that there are special prices on: lettuce from France, tomatoes and onions from the Netherlands, oranges from Spain, apples from Chile, pears from South Africa, and carrots and rhubarb from Germany. The more local, the better, in most cases.

In Germany all eggs (except colored Easter eggs) are stamped with a code that tells the consumer something about the history of the egg. The code looks like this:

2-DE-0802992

The code is interpreted thus:
       2 = Bodenhaltung  (came from a barn [but not caged] chicken)
    DE = Deutschland  (the chicken resides and laid the egg in Germany)
     08 = Baden-Württemberg (the farm is in the state of Baden-Württemberg, where we live)
02992 = the code for the farm (this one is in Bondorf, 12 km from our home)

So I know that this particular egg and its nine companions, which are in my refrigerator right now, are from a local farmer, and I love supporting small local businesses (I bought the eggs from our butcher)! Oh yes - egg packages here come in two sizes - either six, or ten. We can't get a dozen eggs here, which still seems strange to me.

I also have two eggs left from the previous pack of ten, which I bought at the grocery store. I checked out their code:

2-DE-1600161

Ok, still barn-raised and still Germany. But if our state is 08 (the first two digits after the country code), then these eggs didn't come from anywhere near us. Conveniently, there is a website, whose title translates to "What does it say on the egg?," on which I can look up where these little buggers came from. I punched in the code and discovered... they came all the way from Thüringen! The farm is located in the town of Wandersleben (never heard of it), which is 385 km away!  Tja, those chain grocery stores... They're fine for convenience, but not necessarily for freshness or supporting local farmers.

By the way, yes the package also tells me whether the chickens were barn-raised, free-range, or "ecologically produced" (there is also a code for eggs from caged-raised chickens, but who would buy those?), but if I really want to get to know my egg, I can find out more from the code.

And here's something else waaaayyy different about eggs in Germany. Each package - even one shipped in to the grocery store from way off yonder - comes with two "best before" dates. The earlier date is the one to use if you don't keep them in the refrigerator. WHAAA? Who doesn't store their eggs in the fridge? Lots of Europeans, it turns out, at least in the countries where it's not blazing hot. The eggs in the grocery store and at the butcher are not stored in a refrigerated section, either. They're just on shelves. Especially with fresh eggs, there is no reason they need to be rushed to the refrigerator. Room temperature is just fine, up to two weeks. If they are stored in the fridge, they can last two to four weeks beyond their "best before" date - or so I just read on www.eier.de. We store ours in the fridge because that's what I'm used to and we don't have a lot of counter space. But I am no longer shocked when I see raw or colored hard-boiled eggs just sitting out on counters or shelves in stores.

Our butcher has a sign letting customers know that the meat she sells has been born, raised, and slaughtered in Baden-Württemberg, which is important to a lot of the locals. The meat is more expensive than at the grocery store, but the frugal Swabians draw the line at saving Euros by buying mass-produced meat that comes from some other sketchy country (or state). It's the same with eggs and fresh produce. The purists prefer to buy those at an open-air market or local farm rather than in the grocery store where the produce, for instance, often comes from other countries and has been on a truck for several days.

Like many people in Wisconsin are doing as well, the law of the land around here is BUY FRESH! BUY LOCAL!

Grocery Shopping

There are many things the Germans do that make a lot of sense. If I'd point out how logical some of their habits are, I might expect the response "Why would one do it any other way?" That's one of the Three Pillars of German Engineering told to me by an American friend who works for a German company near Esslingen, and I haven't met a German yet with whom I've shared that who disagreed!

One important German value is Order. "Ordnung muss sein" (There must be order) is all but a law over here. Why would one NOT want order in his or her life? In some ways order is forced upon us here in Germany, but no one minds much.

At grocery stores, for instance, there is no employee sent out to collect carts every 30 minutes, and there are no carts scattered around the parking lot left by lazy shoppers or drifting unmanned with the wind across the lot until its journey is stopped by a parked car. All the unused (pre-used?) shopping carts are nestled together in the parking lot at various locations parked in semi-sheltered sheds, awaiting the next shoppers.  How do German stores manage this?

They require a deposit for using a shopping cart.  In order to obtain a cart for your purchases, you go from your car straight to the shed where the carts are chained together, insert a Euro coin into the slot which releases the chain, and you push your cart into the store.  After you have made your purchases and unloaded them from the cart into your car, you push the cart back to the shed, plug the chain from the already parked cart into your cart, remove your Euro, and go on your merry way.

What if you forgot to bring a Euro with you?  Then you'll have to hope that what you need to buy will fit in the little baskets that are available for you inside the store (no deposit required). You probably won't forget your coin more than once, after which you'll always leave it in the cup holder of your car.

You can also find keychains nowadays that have a little insert the size of a Euro coin, which the carts accept. I have found this little device quite handy.

Another cost- and labor-saving procedure here concerns the bagging of groceries. The stores do not hire baggers. Customers bag their own groceries. No one asks "Paper or plastic?", because the bags aren't free. If you forgot your own canvas bags, you purchase large, sturdy plastic bags at the checkout for 10 cents each. Savy, frugal shoppers will always bring their own bags, of course. ("Why would you do it any other way?")

So shoppers put their groceries on the conveyer belt, the cashier scans them, and the shopper grabs the items and tosses them back into the cart. There's time to bag them up later (at your car, in the sunshine, rain, or snow), so don't hold others up by bagging at the checkout.

Lastly, in the produce section, shoppers weigh their own selections on a scale that also prints out a scannable sticker, which the shopper sticks to the little plastic bag into which he puts the fruit or veggies. If you forget to do this, there is a scale not too far from the checkout to which the cashier will send you. That happened to me. Once. The scowls of the shoppers behind me were enough to deter a repeat offense.

Germans must be fascinated by grocery shopping in the U.S. At least in Wisconsin, someone bagged my groceries into bags I didn't have to pay for without expecting a tip. The cashier weighed my fruits and veggies. And carts, though there were several corrals to which shoppers were asked to return them, were often scattered willy-nilly around the parking lot.  A Swabian would shake his head while thinking, "If they had to plug a dollar into the cart to use it, they would never leave it in the middle of the lot in such a disorderly fashion!  Ordnung muss sein!"

unsere Metzgerei / our butcher

I love our local butcher. The women who work there are so friendly, and very patient with me despite the fact that I often come in with unusual requests or forget a word I need to make clear what I want.  They know me somewhat by now because I go there about 3 times per week, and sometimes I fear they're thinking, "Oh no, here comes the American again..."

For some time I've been perplexed by the size of the chickens here. They look more like hefty pidgeons, and the biggest one I can find at the grocery store feeds just Martin and me for one meal. On Monday I'm planning to cook a bird for my parents and us.  A friend told me recently, when I brought up the "tiny chicken issue," that I need to look for a Poularde (spring chicken?). Those are larger than the grocery store birds. This morning I asked the butcher if I can order a Poularde from her. She said "Für Weihnachten?" ("For Christmas?")  "Nein, für Montag" ("No, for Monday"). It turns out I can get a Poularde, but I need to order it a week in advance. It looks like I'll be roasting 2 small grocery store birds on Monday, but at least I know for next time.

There is a meat department in the big grocery store, but Martin is always more impressed with the quality of the meat I get at the local butcher. When I go there to get gemischtes Hackfleisch (mixed ground meat - pork and beef), they grind it as I wait. It doesn't get ground early in the day and then sit in a display case for hours, like in the grocery store, and it's not pre-packaged. They grind exactly as much as I want and then package it. I believe this is why, when making Maultaschen, it's ok to taste the ground meat mixture repeatedly to see if the spices are right, even though the meat is raw.

The butcher has a delicious array of sausages and cheeses for sale, Wurstsalat and other salads, marinaded or prepared meats (I could buy Schnitzel already flattened and breaded, but Martin always does that himself) and some poultry. They also have a few staples available - eggs, breadcrumbs, canned broth, etc. A bakery from the next town over delivers bread and rolls daily, and one can order a sandwich to go. They also have a daily meal special of a meat, a side dish and dessert or salad. There's one small table where one can sit and eat lunch.

So far perhaps none of that is terribly different from an American butcher. The big difference is that I rarely went to a butcher in Wisconsin. The best one I knew of near me was a 20-minute drive away in Eden, WI. I just bought packaged meat at the grocery store.  Life in the U.S. is in some ways about convenience and quickness. The meat tends to be better at a butcher, but it's more convient (not to mention cheaper) to buy everything at the same place. The same is true here, but since the butcher is so close (it's a 10-minute walk from home, or a 7-minute walk on a day as cold as today) and the meat is a finer quality, I'll happily go there several times a week even though it's an extra trip.

I should mention that the butcher at the grocery store is very friendly and helpful as well. A few weeks ago on a Wednesday Martin wanted to grill steaks, but the local butcher is closed on Wednesday afternoons.  Martin - who is German for those who don't know that - often grumbles that German butchers don't understand about grilling big steaks, because they're always cut too thinly.  I asked the butcher at the store for Rindersteaks zum Grillen, and he said those are in the pre-packaged section. He mentioned that they are "Big American Steaks," (is it SO obvious that I'm an American??) and asked if he should help me find them since he wasn't busy at the time. I said I was sure I could find them myself. I went to the beef section, walked along and browsed, but didn't see exactly what I was looking for. The butcher came over and asked if I'd found them, and I had to admit that I hadn't. He reached into the cooler and pulled out a package with a huge American flag on the label. Really? I missed that?  Good grief...  They were still not thick enough for Martin's taste, though, so there was more grumbling at home about German butchers.

One of these days he'll come with me to our local butcher and describe exactly what he wants for grilling - 4 cm thick, marbeled, and from the loin or rib. Then we'll see if they'll give it a name - "The Hejl Grill Special" or something like that - to make ordering in the future easier.

We're planning on having a 4th of July Grillfest next summer, and the butcher is either going to love us or hate us when it's time to order the meat for that. Yes, we'll be ordering a lot of meat, but we'll have very precise expectations for what we want.  At least we know to order early!