Maultaschen, or Herrgotts-B'scheißerle

I'll probably never become the good Swabian housewife I'd like to be - hard-working, an excellent cook, able to remove every stain from any piece of clothing, frugal, stoic, firm of will, and humble to a fault - but I have made Maultaschen from scratch!  With the help of detailed instructions and photos from my German host parents (with whom I lived for six months as an exchange student in 1986), I gathered my courage and tackled the project.

There are quite a few stories attached to this typical Swabian dish, and even more recipes for it and ways to serve them.  For those of you who have never heard of these, the name translates most closely to "Snout Pockets" or "Mouth Bags".  The affectionate nickname they've earned is "Herrgotts-B'scheißerle", which only roughly translates to "Lord God bullshitters". The explanation I like best is that Cistercian monks created these ravioli-like pockets to eat on Fridays during Lent when meat was forbidden. The ground beef, ground pork, and sausage meat were mixed with so much spinach and parsley that the mixure looked rather more green than meat-colored, and therefore the cheeky monks could fool God into thinking they were following His law and not eating meat. Besides the color, the meat (ähm...vegetable) mixture was tucked inside of a noodle pocket and usually served in a broth, disguising it all the more.

If there is any truth to that story, it's clear why the name given to the dish had to be rather ambiguous. "Sausage Pockets" might sound better, but that would hardly have fooled God.

So how does one make these delicious Snout Pockets (which I will hereafter call by their proper name out of deference)?  First of all, if you do not have a long, empty counter on which you can roll out the dough to about 1.5 meters and several hours of time, just quit now.  But if you do....

This is a family recipe passed down from my German host father's mother, and I was so pleased when my host parents were willing to share it with me!

Here are the ingredients for about 40-45 Maultaschen:
  500g noodle dough (pre-ordered from the baker)
  1 kg mixed ground beef & pork
  250-300g sausage meat
  5 day-old Kaiser rolls (that's 5 rolls that are 1 day old, not rolls that are 5 days old)
  6 eggs
  Spinach - as much as you like - frozen, chopped, unseasoned (thawed)
  1 onion
  a generous amount of parsley
  Salt, pepper, and nutmeg

Chop the onions finely and lightly braise them in butter. Add the parsley and braise briefly.
Cook the spinach and press it through a sieve or strainer.
Soak/soften the rolls in cold water, then press the water out and rip them apart into very small pieces.

Knead all the ingredients together in a large bowl; it is best to do this by hand rather than trying to use a wooden spoon or mixer! The mass/mixture should have a firm, homogeneous consistency. If it is too soft, add some bread crumbs. If it's too firm, add another egg.

Here's a hard part, which my German sister says she hates doing, but which must be done: taste the raw mixture.  It should be rather too seasoned than not seasoned enough.  Add more of whatever seasoning/s is or are missing.

Roll out the noodle dough on the counter and spread the meat mixture evenly over the top (see below).

As this was my first attempt, I learned several things.

   1. I need to rip the bread into smaller bits.

   2. I need to knead the mixture longer.

   3. I should add more spinach and parsley.

   4. I really do need to taste the raw mixture
         (and add more spices).

   5. I should probably spread the mixture more thinly.

After it's evenly spread, begin at one end and fold the dough over the mixture twice and cut lengthwise with a pizza cutter. The Maultaschen rolls should be about 8cm wide.  Repeat this folding-and-cutting until you reach the end of the roll of dough.

Press each roll lightly, and cut them sideways to your desired size.

As you can see, I had trouble cutting them in uniform sizes. I couldn't decide how big I wanted them. I'll probably cut them three to a row next time, but by spreading the mixture more thinly, they'll end up a more reasonable size.

If you are not planning to cook and eat all the Maultaschen in one sitting (who could unless you're serving them at a party?!), you can wrap them raw in tin foil and store them in the freezer for several months.

For the ones you want to eat today, bring a pot of well-salted water almost to a boil. The water should not be bubbling, but rather simmering.  Drop in however many Maultaschen fit without crowding, and cook them about 15 minutes (actual time will depend upon how big they are). They should be done when they float, but I discovered they floated long before the 15 minutes were up. I sampled the first one and cooked the rest for the full 15 minutes.  Remove them with a slotted spoon and add the next bunch.

We served them the first day in a broth (but forgot to add roasted onions on top). A salad is good on the side, such as a potato or carrot salad.

The next day we sliced each Maultasche into several pieces and then fried them along with the onions we'd forgotten the day before. I found that even more delicious, but forgot to take a picture!

If you're only a visitor to Swabia, then order this in a restaurant at least once. If you're here to stay a while, give it a shot by hand. You will at least earn bragging rights (though bragging is not something a Swabian housewife would do!), and you will have a freezer full of homemade Maultaschen to serve on Sunday evenings or holidays when you forgot to plan ahead for the grocery stores being closed.

Just don't serve them on Fridays during Lent, because I'm pretty sure God has figured out the truth by now.

Driving in Germany 1: Speed Limits

I know you were expecting me to go straight to the Autobahn with this posting, but I'm not ready for that yet.  Let's start with the beginner's course.

In order to drive in Germany, it is a good idea to get to know the rules of the road first, or at least have some idea of them.  There is - as would be expected - considerable order on German roads, logical rules and laws, and the assumption that everyone not only knows the rules, but will follow them.  Road signs are made up more of symbols than words, whereas American road signs include lots of words.

This is (relatively) clearly a sign indicating that the speed limit as of that point is 60 km/h. A red border tells drivers that something within the border isn't allowed - in this case, going faster than 60. 

At some point after passing that sign, you might see this one:

This sign means that the Geschwindigkeitsgrenze (speed limit) is no longer 60 km/h.  Uh...What IS the speed limit? Well you should know.  Naturally it depends upon the type of road you are on. In this particular place on this narrow, busy road without shoulders, the speed limit is 100 km/h. You are supposed to know this because it is a "Bundesstrasse," or federal highway. Its name (B14) indicates that with the B.

So you continue driving along, being on the lookout for another sign with a red circle and a number, see none, but the guy in front of you has suddenly slowed to 52 or so.  That's because you're now within city or town limits. Didn't you see the sign??

Yep, that's it. When you see the rectangular yellow sign telling you the name of the city or town you are entering, you should automatically know that the speed limit is now 50 km/h.  And, and by the way, if you didn't know that and weren't lucky enough to have the German driver slowing down in front of you, you'll probably get caught by the speed camera (see the white sign below the yellow one? Consider yourself warned.).

Ok, so you turn off the B14 onto another narrow (by American standards) road and didn't see any other sign. Assume the speed limit is still 50. When you get to a residential area, you'll see this sign:

The circle should be red - it has faded in the sun.

"Zone" means that the speed limit applies to the entire neighborhood. If you weren't looking up and missed the sign, perhaps you'll see this on the road:

The streets are so narrow here that you wouldn't really want to go faster than 30 anyway. And of course there are often cars or small trucks parked on the sides of the narrow streets, so occasionally you have to drive partially on the sidewalk to get through.

Luckily the curbs are low.

For those cocky youngsters who forget to use their heads, the German road designers are there to remind them with the German equivalent of a speed bump (at the red-and-white sign to the right):

It makes the street even narrower in that spot where there is a T-intersection - or wherever else they felt one was needed - and drivers are forced to slow down and navigate around it.

Oh, and that brings me to intersections.

As in the U.S., the road rule for an uncontrolled intersection is that the driver on the left yields to the driver on the right. In German it's expressed as "rechts vor links". The thing is, I'm used to driving in Wisconsin, where there might be 12 uncontrolled intersections in the entire state. Here in Bildechingen, there are 12 uncontrolled intersections in our neighborhood! The trouble is that this yielding to drivers from the right (and turning in front of a car coming from the left when I am the driver on the right) is not intuitive for me.

So let's take a look at this intersection:

I'm driving along, and a car comes from the right. I wish you could see that there are tall trees to the right, and therefore I can't see the approaching car until I am almost in the intersection. I just have to automatically slow down, despite the lack of sign, and cautiously cross the intersection if no one is coming from the right.

Regarding the lack of sign reminding me to yield to the right, the Germans only have signs telling drivers when they don't have to yield to drivers from the right.  Come to think of it, in the bigger cities there are sometimes gray diamonds painted on the road at intersections. Those are reminders of the "rechts vor links" rule.

Usually when I am the one coming from the right here, I revert to my instincts and stop when someone is coming from the left (because that is the wider and more major street). German drivers love this kind of chaos on the road.

I do actually appreciate the fact that there are fewer stop signs in Germany than in the U.S.. This "rechts vor links" rule covers minor intersections, and for major ones they tend to have stop lights or round-abouts. Perhaps if we could learn the "rechts vor links" rule in the U.S., we could do away with stop signs in parking lots!

One more thing American drivers need to keep in mind when driving here in Germany is that there is no "right on red" allowance. A red light means "Stop!", not "Stop, and then go."** For whatever reason, that is an easy one for me.  I'm a nervous enough driver that I'll happily sit at a red light as long as I need to.

Although I'm slowly but surely learning the rules of German roads in anticipation of someday having the guts to drive further than the grocery store, I still prefer to take the train.  I think that's better for all concerned.


**My husband has just informed me that there is one intersection in Esslingen where one is allowed to turn right on red. Apparently there is a green sign with a white arrow pointing right to let drivers know it's ok. So I stand corrected.

Hedges, Fences, and Privacy

Germans tend to be very private. There is a clear separation between work and social life, and a clear distinction between colleagues, aquaintances and friends.  One's property line is clearly defined with natural or manmade barriers, and gates are popular.

In our little community and on our street, most of the residents close off their property with tall hedges. Many of the houses are hidden, so if they live in a bunglow-style house like we do, you might not even know what your neighbor's house looks like. There seems to be a strongly intended message of "Do not look at my house, keep your eyes off my garden, don't step on my grass, and keep your dog off my lawn!" That's not to say our neighbors aren't friendly - the ones we've met in passing are very personable. They just value privacy. And I think they would agree with Robert Frost - "Good fences make good neighbors."

This is the view toward one of our neighbors' houses. We have no idea what the people or their house look like. The fence is theirs, as is the creeping monster plant that is climbing over to bully our row of evergreens.*

*Update 26. August, 2014:  We have met these neighbors! They have a huge cherry tree in their yard and a plum tree, and they have been so kind this summer to share the delicious fruit with us. 

When we moved in, we also had a tall hedge along the street and along the south side of the garden. It wasn't very healthy, so we had it cut back to regrow more thickly. Now we notice people strolling past, pausing, pointing into our garden, and discussing what they see. We do this too, of course, when we go for a walk and pass a low-enough hedge at someone else's property. One day a woman was walking past while M was outside, and she said, "I never knew this was a bungalow house! How nice!"

old hedge

Current hedge - needs a few years to grow back!

This emphasis on privacy doesn't bother me, but it does make it difficult to meet our neighbors. By cutting back our hedge we have all but forced the neighbors to that side to greet us every time they come and go when we're sitting on our patio, doing yard work, or grilling. I imagine they preferred the hedge! They're very friendly, though, and I think they're getting used to us.

Word has got out in the neighborhood that an American lives here, which we know because of a couple who walked past earlier this year and stopped to introduce themselves with "You're from the U.S., right?" By now they also know that M, while apparently German, uses his Weber grill all year round and multiple times per week during the German "grill season", that we speak mainly English with each other, that one of us has a British mother who visits occasionally (and whom we put to work cleaning out the hedge on Mother's Day weekend), and that M was probably in the army (he wears his camouflage pants to mow).

We're considering having a grill-party for the fourth of July, and if we do, we'll invite the neighbors. The impression many Germans have of Americans is that we are very friendly and open, smile a lot, and like to grill. I see no problem in perpetuating those stereotypes.  And perhaps I can show them that Nestle Tollhouse cookies also make good neighbors!

My kingdom for a garbage disposal

Lest my readers get the impression that I think everything over here in Germany is better than in the U.S., I thought I'd mention a few of the things I miss.  Obviously I miss my people and spending time with them - my children, parents, extended family, and best friends! Following are the things I miss at times.

Vacuum cleaners with rotating brushes

Ours only suck.  Pun intended.  Granted, we have no carpeting but rather all wood and tile floors. But when it's time to vacuum our area rugs, I switch the floor tool for the carpet tool. Why, I am sure I do not know. The carpet tool still only sucks. It's just bigger than the floor tool and has wheels.

Garbage disposals

Unheard of over here because they wouldn't be legal anyway. We are not supposed to put kitchen junk into our sewers, no matter how ground up it might be. That goes into the Biomüll, of course. What about something like stew, which is too liquidy to go into Biomüll and has chunks of meat and vegetables? You shouldn't be disposing of that anyway. You're in Swabia - food is to be eaten, not wasted. Some people pour thick liquidy things into the toilet. I guess worse things are flushed down there than asparagus cream soup, but in general that practice is frowned upon.

A double sink!

I am not sure which genius decided that kitchen sinks should be small and have only one basin, but he ought to be lashed repeatedly and then banished.  This is not just our sink - nearly every kitchen design we have seen in catalogs and in furniture stores includes only one-sided sinks. In the place where the other basin should be is a slanted stainless steel shelf. Ok, we can place our dish-drying rack there and the water drains toward the sink. The water is so hard that I frequently need to use calcium-eating chemicals to clean that shelf. I'd rather have a second basin for rinsing the dishes!

Condensed soup

I brought quite a few cookbooks and recipes with me from the U.S., and I never realized how many call for condensed cream-of-something soup. There are lots of soups here, but I haven't found condensed yet. I suspect that's because a good Swabian cook makes his or her own sauce with fresh ingredients and herbs rather than using something some machine in a factory mixed together.

Pam cooking spray

Again, lots of American recipes tell you to use cooking spray. We use Butterschmalz (ghee), but I did use Pam a lot in the States and was used to it. It's quite convenient, especially when everything is ready to go into the casserole dish, which I forgot to grease.

Wide streets and roads

If you've ever watched "The Holiday," you have seen Cameron Diaz driving down a narrow road facing an oncoming truck and wondering how they're both going to fit. Even though we drive on the "right" side of the road in Germany, the streets and roads are much narrower than is comfortable for me. I often hold my breath when a semi passes us, though I'm not sure how that helps.

Shoulders on both sides of the road

I have seen shoulders on some sections of the Autobahn, but only thick, short wooden poles on country highways where the  speed limit is 100 km/h (62 mph). So if I would edge to the right of the narrow road/lane to inch away from an oncoming semi or bus, I would slam into at least one of these poles. There is little wiggle room on Germany highways.
The photo on the right shows a country road rather than a highway. Clearly the pole in the foreground has already been hit at least once. The speed limit here is 70 km/h (45 mph). Martin says it used to be 100 km/h (62 mph), and it still is just around this bend.

Thick-cut bacon sold in 1-pound packs

The largest pack of bacon I have found in our usual store contains seven thin slices. I have seen something that looks like a chunk of unsliced bacon which I could cut myself, but I'd rather just pick up a pack of Oscar Meyer. I like thin bacon, too, but every now and then I want the thick stuff.

Cheap gas

I checked today, and gas is down to about $8.06 per gallon here. Roughly 56% of that is gas tax. Martin can't fill the tank for less than €100 ($130), and we drive a car, not an SUV or truck. I would hate to see what the few SUV drivers over here pay to fill their tanks. I remember grumbling when gas went above $3.70 per gallon in Wisconsin...

Teaching full-time

Ok, just kidding.

Squeaky cheese curds

We have all kinds of delicious, fancy cheese here, but the Wisconsin girl in me will never stop peeking in the gourmet cheese section (next to the one version of cheddar they carry) for squeaky cheese curds.

Dining in Germany II: Finishing up

Click here for Part I

Ok, so you've enjoyed a delicious meal and perhaps a glass of wine or Apfelschorle (apple juice spritzer), and you sit back satisfied.  Chances are, you're actually stuffed and wondering how you're going to roll home, wishing you could try a piece of that Apfelstrudel you remember your Oma making. The waiter appears, and taking your plate asks "War's recht?" Directly translated, that means "Was it right?", but never mind direct translations. You know he's asking if the meal was to your liking. If you're in Swabia, even if you've just eaten the most delicious piece of piece of beef you've ever had, tone down your compliment to "It was very good, thank you." To a Swabian, over-flowery gushing compliments come across as insincere.  If the meal was only very good, a simple "Ja, danke" (Yes, thank you) will do.

The waiter will then ask if you would like a Nachtisch (dessert) or to see the Dessert Karte (dessert menu). Even if you're too full for dessert, it's very common to have some kind of Kaffee or Espresso after the meal to help things settle. If you're dining with Germans, they'll probably have one, so you might as well, too. It seems to me that many Germans think a plain coffee at this point is unimaginative. It's much more fashionable to have a cappuccino or espresso. Do not expect flavored coffee, which is so popular in the U.S.. Germans like their coffee to taste like coffee, not hazelnuts, cinnamon, or vanilla. Above all, do not just dash off after you've finished your meal. Relax! Enjoy the atmosphere and company. Dine. Don't dash.

Incidentally, although Germans have a reputation for consuming barrels and barrels of Bier (as do Wisconsinites), they drink more Kaffee per capita per year than beer. Like the beer, the coffee here tends to be stronger than in America, so be ready to add cream or sugar.

You and your friends have finished your hot beverages, and now you want to pay and leave. For some reason, in larger restaurants, this is where things can get tricky. You wait patiently, assuming your waiter will show up when he sees that your coffee cups are empty to offer more. Wait. No free refills. You look around to see if you can find him, but he seems to have disappeared. You wait some more. As you realize that your waiter has not returned to your table to ask how things are every time you had a mouthful of food as they do in the States, you wonder if he will return at all. Well, he won't get a very good tip if he doesn't, right?  Wrong. The tip is included in the prices. You wait some more.

Maybe you could ask another waiter to send...what was his name? You don't know his name because German waiters don't introduce themselves (and surely don't use first names!), and few wear name tags. Then you see him. Though you almost shout with relief, you don't want to be obnoxious, so you wait for him to look in your direction so you can make a subtle gesture indicating you need him. He doesn't look. He seems to be forcing you to be patient and let your food settle. But we Americans want to leave as soon as we're finished! We practically pay and return to our cars still chewing our last bite!

Eventually, after what seemed like 45 minutes of trying to get his attention - though it was really probably only 5 minutes - he glances over, and you wave at him a bit too enthusiastically. Is he smirking?? He approaches your table as you dig in your wallet and flash your credit card, pulls a face, and says, "Sorry, cash only."  WHAT?!? In the U.S. we even pay a $4.78 bill at McDonald's with plastic. Your bill is €88!  This is a nice, fancy restaurant - don't all nice, fancy restaurants take credit cards?  Yes. In America. In Germany most restaurants are family owned and operated, there are not many chains, and businesses are charged fees for processing credit cards.  If you're going out for a meal in Germany, though you might get lucky and can find places that accept credit, prepare to pay in cash.

Most Americans tip much more than they need to in German restaurants, because they add the 15-20% additional tip that is customary in the U.S.. As I said earlier, though, the tip (as well as the tax) is already included, though adding something (up to 10%) to your bill is appropriate if you were satisfied with the food and service.  What the waiters appreciate is when you round your bill up to an amount that prevents them having to dig for small change. With a bill of €88, hand the waiter €100 and tell him "€95, bitte." You simply tell him the total amount you want him to keep, and he'll give you the change you need. You don't leave a tip on the table, and you don't hand him the extra money. Just tell him what to keep. If you happen to have €95 in bills, hand him that and say "Stimmt so" (Correct as is, or keep the change).

Now you're ready to go. Use the Toilette before you go, because public facilities are not as common or easily found as in the U.S.. If you were sharing a table with a stranger at the other end, even if not a word was said between you since one of you established that the seat was available an hour ago, say "Auf Wiedersehen" to him, her, or them. It would be rude to just walk away after sharing a table.

The thing to remember is that dining in Germany is not rushed. You're paying for a meal out, so take your time and enjoy it.