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February/March 2002 - excerpts from the editorial
To Market, To Market
By Leah Larkin
“This is the best place we’ve seen in Munich,” commented Jaimie Anderson. The visitor from Columbus, Ohio, was not talking about the city’s famous Marienplatz with its Glockenspiel, nor its museums, Hofbräuhaus, or English Garden. He and his friend, Gabe Borghese, were walking around Munich’s bustling Viktualienmarkt taking pictures.
“We came here, sat down and had a beer. This is the way Munich and Germany should be, in my mind,” said Borghese. “It’s great to get away from shopping centers.”
Munich’s Viktualienmarkt, a large and colorful outdoor market, is unique. In addition to the usual stands loaded down with fruits and vegetables so perfect they beg to be photographed, there are numerous stands, actually little shops, including one where you can buy 350 different kinds of cheese, another that sells 39 kinds of olives, yet another whose shelves are stocked with 60 types of honey. You can find fresh exotic fruit from Vietnam, Sri Lanka, Bali, Thailand, the Ivory Coast, and Ghana. There is a sushi stand, a stand selling Austrian wurst,
another specializing in fresh mushrooms (at least ten different kinds). And, there is a beer garden, of course.
“We always visit the market to look around when we come to Munich,” said a woman from Regensburg, who, with her husband and two sons, was enjoying a lunch of Munich’s famous Weisswurst at the market beer garden. “You see a great variety of fruits and vegetables here that you don’t see in the stores.”
Year-round outdoor markets are an old tradition in Germany, and just about every major city has one. Just about every German hausfrau (and many men, too) has a large basket for those treks to the market. Big city markets are usually open two or three days a week while smaller villages may have an outdoor market just once a week. However, in Munich, the Viktualienmarkt with its 140 different vendors is open six days a week.
In Munich, Münster, or Stuttgart, the markets are more than a place to shop. They are a feast for the eyes, the nose, and the palate -- a chance to socialize, to enjoy the outdoors. They are
lively, happy places where friends and acquaintances meet. Merchants take time to chat with shoppers, many of whom they know. “Am Samstag unser Sohn heiratet” (On Saturday our son will be married),
proclaims a sign hanging behind the piles of produce at a stand at Stuttgart’s market. The woman behind the vegetables is busy telling a familiar customer about the upcoming wedding. Stammkunde (regular customers) account for as much as 80 percent of some vendors’ business.
“It’s enjoyable. Everything is fresh here,” remarked a Munich housewife who shops at the Viktualienmarkt once a week.
Blue Onion
by Angela Koenig
As an American residing in Germany many years ago, I had abundant opportunity to commit my share of social faux pas. My
most memorable embarrassment, however, remains attached to my service of “Onion Pattern” porcelain; then high on my list of “must haves” from Deutschland but out of my financial reach at the time.
One day I had stopped -- as I did quite often -- to admire the striking blue and white porcelain in a shop window and still had
it foremost on my mind while attending a formal dinner party that night. Serendipitously, someone pointed out to me that the president of the porcelain factory was among the honored guests. Well, I made my way
over to him and proceeded to fawn ceaselessly over the pattern; that was until he kindly pointed out that his company did not make this particular pattern -- that it was made by one of his fiercest competitors.
(Crawling under a table would have been appropriate at this point.) Still, most likely out of pity, he later arranged for me to purchase a luncheon service from his competitor, at cost. Thus, in my small
unconventional way, I joined the masses who have a time-honored affection for what is generically called “The Onion Pattern” (“Zwiebelmuster,” auf Deutsch) also commonly referred to as “Blue Onion.”
Though the pattern, or versions thereof, is today employed by an estimated 50 international manufacturers -- it is touted as one
of the most reproduced porcelain patterns in the industry -- the design in and of itself is distinctly linked to German culture. Moreover, it is specifically linked to the Meissen Porcelain Manufactory in
Meissen, Germany, where it has been in continuous production since 1739.
“It is by far the most popular and has the most range of items of any pattern we sell,” notes Alexander Schmidt-Warnecke,
Vice President of Marketing and Sales at Meissen Porcelain, Inc., who adds: “It just comes to mind when you think about Meissen,” and the history of European porcelain.
Going back to the turn of the 18th century, the secrets of producing hard paste porcelain -- its “arcana,” or material
makeup, known only to the Chinese at the time -- became the bane of a European craftsman’s existence. Soft paste porcelains, earthenware, pottery, and the like were already known commodities, but in the
previous century, through the opening of East Indian trade routes, the luxurious and resilient Chinese hard paste wares had seeped into the hands of Europe’s aristocracy. Hence, finding the right mix of
elements to produce this finery became a high priority among European nobles.
Although great strides were made by Europe’s porcelain craftsmen, called “arcanists,” it was Johann Friedrich Böttger, a
goldsmith by trade, who is credited as the first arcanist to closely rediscover the coveted Chinese method. The discovery took place at his laboratory in Dresden and, in 1709, he delivered the goods, so to
speak, to Augustus the Strong, Elector of Saxony, King of Poland.
Armed with this knowledge, Augustus, in 1710, set about installing a porcelain factory in nearby Meissen -- today’s Meissen
Porcelain Manufactory. Here, kilns fired the precious white blanks and artists undertook the task of duplicating East Asian designs and creating their own patterns; albeit one process, perfecting the application
of blue decoration under the glaze, as with fanciful Chinese wares, remained illusive for nearly 30 years. According to The Book of Meissen by Robert E. Röntgen, so desperate was Augustus to produce an underglaze blue that he offered a reward of $1,000 Thalers to anyone who could come up with a perfected method. Trial and error ensued -- plagued by disasters, such as the graying of color and spreading of design -- and still no single colorist could come up with the right mix of cobalt and additives necessary to endure high glazing temperatures.
Thuringia
By Nicholas Corder
At the southern end of the old East Germany is Thuringia. In years gone by, it was the haunt of some of the greats of Germanic literature and music. Schiller and Goethe found inspiration here in
Thüringia’s green forest. The roll call of composers who spent time here reads like a “Who’s Who” -- Bach, Liszt, Mozart, and Beethoven.
On my way to the Czech Republic, I found myself here with a few days to spare and, instead of approaching the area in a planned fashion, I decided to wander wherever the spirit took me.
Some things, of course, you just have to do, whether you are pretending to be a tourist or not. Thüringia’s most renowned tourist destination is the Wartburg. Even during the Cold War, little
tourist groups would be shepherded under colder stares to this noble castle. Nowadays, you have to make your own way up the steep road, parking before you reach the summit. On a hot day, you might feel like you
could do with oxygen and a couple of Sherpas. There are donkeys, but you have to weigh less than 60 kg (about 120 lbs.) to go on one and -- after all that beer and brezel…!
Guided tours are obligatory. We were too early in the day for an English tour, so we took a German one instead and were given a leaflet in English to read alongside, which was quite a good way of
improving our rusty German. At 11 marks (about five dollars), it was a good value, and our guide was first-rate. The views from the Wartburg over Eisenach and the rolling Thüringian forest are splendid -- small
wonder it was such an inspiration to all those poets and composers. It is crisscrossed with paths. The walk from Eisenach to Blankenstein looks beautiful but takes several days. If you fancy it, there are 85
different tourist information centers along its length, so you cannot go particularly wrong.
Back inside the Wartburg, the complex mosaic patterns of the Elizabeth Bower, although apparently only dating from the early part of the 20th century, were colorful and vibrant. The Festival Hall,
with its religious paintings and carvings, seems the perfect setting for a medieval banquet.
It is no surprise that Ludwig der Springer (Louis the Jumper) fell in love with the original site while on a hunting trip and decided to build his dream castle on the very spot. The actual mountain peak belonged to someone else. So, to satisfy the authorities, he had his chaps bring in a load of topsoil from home with which he covered the hill so that he could claim that he had built the Wartburg on his own land.
Most famously, Martin Luther, in hiding using the name of Junker Jürg and a beard to escape the wrath of the established church, translated the New Testament from Greek into German here.
Tradition has it that he was visited by the devil one night and threw an inkpot at him. I had it in my mind that the authorities inked in the stain from time to time, but I frankly could not make out where it
was supposed to be. It was my only disappointment. The rest of the Wartburg is splendid.
Neunerlei: A German Feast Seasoned with Symbolism
By Marcel Biró, European Master Chef, Restaurateur and
Shannon Kring Biró, Freelance Writer, Restaurant Consultant
As the son of a chef and restaurateur, my appetite for cuisine was whet at an early age. By six years of age, I was working as a chef’s apprentice in my father’s restaurant in Plauen, Germany.
I would awaken at dawn to accompany my father to the Bauernmarkt, where wooden crates were brimful of vegetables and fresh cheeses ripened on beds of straw. Here, he would give me lessons
in selecting the day’s ripest fruits, freshest dairy products, and most succulent meats.
By late morning, Linsensuppe Süss und Sauer simmered on the stovetop, and the bewitching aromas of roasting Schweinehaxe, warm Apfelstrudel, and steaming Wursts swirled
through the restaurant. Diners from throughout the region could not get enough of this soup, nor of the crusty pieces of Schwartzbrot my father baked fresh each morning.
As a child, I believed that it was the flavor of our food that kept guests coming back for more. Later, I came to realize that it
was also the ingredients we so carefully selected, for Germans throughout history have been drawn to foods rich in symbolism.
During the Middle Ages, Germans ate only those foods holding deep symbolic meaning. Not coincidentally, these were the items most readily available to them. From potatoes to lentils, each crop
yielded a bounty of superstition. By the 15th century, entire meals were being created in honor of these symbolic foods. Served on special occasions, Neunerlei was the most elaborate of these feasts.
Neunerlei, or “nine-piece meal,” originated in Vogtland and consisted of nine specific menu items: Brot, Salz, Preiselbeeren, Hirsebrei, Marinierter Hering,
Kartoffel, Grüne Knödeln, Schweinehaxe, and Stollen. Nine was believed to be the number of man, as it signified his time of gestation. It was for this reason Vogtlanders chose to feature nine
foods on the Neunerlei spread.
Brot
Vogtlanders, like most Europeans, believed that Brot, or bread, symbolized the body of Christ and should therefore be the first course presented when the Neunerlei began at 6:00 p.m. Considered Neunerlei’s most essential food, bread was thought to foreshadow the good fortune and sustenance coming to those eating it. As rye grew abundantly in Germany’s rich soil, Schwartzbrot was
the type of bread most commonly associated with this belief.
Salz
Salz, or salt, was touted as the only ingredient strong enough to drive away evil spirits. Each of Neunerlei’s dishes contains salt, but it was when paired with lentils that salt was believed most potent. Lentils were found in a variety of Neunerlei foods,
as they represented having enough change to last throughout the year. With its smoky flavor and hearty stew-like texture, Linsensuppe Süss und Sauer was the favored salz-lentil combination.
Preiselbeeren
It was believed that if one ate three forks-full of Preiselbeeren at Neunerlei, a year’s worth of good health would result. These tiny red berries were sometimes used only as garnish for Neunerlei’s dishes, but were most commonly used to make a tart jelly.
Hirsebrei
Like lentils, these legumes were thought to guarantee prosperity when cooked in salt water. A Neunerlei tradition of unknown origins consists of burying a “lucky” coin in the dish of one unsuspecting diner. He who found the coin was guaranteed the most wealth.
Marinierter Hering and Kartoffel
Traditionally, Marinierter Hering, or marinated herring, was prepared by nailing the fishes by their heads to the ceiling to dry. The bodies were then marinated and served for Neunerlei, and the heads were fed to cows with buttered bread. This, it was believed, ensured the cattle’s fertility and the ability to have complication-free deliveries. Kartoffel, or potatoes, most commonly served boiled in salt water, were also thought to increase flock, crops, and family.
Grüne Knödeln and Schweinehaxe
Vogtlanders believed that if Schweinehaxe, pork hocks, or Grüne Knödeln, green potato dumplings, were not included on a Neunerlei menu, finances would be poor in the coming year. While legumes represented small monetary amounts, Grüne Knödeln symbolized large amounts of money.
Stollen
Most commonly associated with the Weihnachten season,Stollen is the final food served for Neunerlei. Originally a simple bread symbolizing the Christ child swaddled in
blankets, Stollen has evolved to contain a colorful blend of nuts, candied fruits, and spices.
In East-Coast Boston and West-Coast San Francisco: Guten Appetit!
By Tom Bross
Like many or perhaps most of you, I grew up with a fondness for hearty schmackhaft German food. Credit that to Grandma Bross (geboren Schmidt), who came to Wisconsin from woodsy old Baden around 1900, when she was a young girl. Destined for a happy marriage and a patiently hard-working Hausfrau adulthood, she seemed most content while preparing meals in her cramped Milwaukee kitchen, which comes vividly to mind whenever I see household steam or hear clattering cookware. No one --
no one -- on either side of the ocean could produce a more sensational platter of potato pancakes than Grandma.
Such home-prepared taste-pleasers belong to the increasingly distant past, and now, where I am a longtime resident of Boston.
Despite being quite cosmopolitan and internationally academic, ethnic Irish and Italians still exert the strongest influences in this historic and venerably cultured metropolis. My “other city” is San
Francisco, thanks to close family and career connections. And by coincidence, this vivacious city also has an influential Irish and Italian heritage.
Considering those facts of urban identities, it is reassuring (and perhaps surprising) to know that each place has one singularly
good German restaurant -- one being vastly better than none.
In the Massachusetts capital, that distinction belongs to Jacob Wirth’s. In existence since 1868, it is the city’s
second-oldest restaurant, 42 years “younger” than the Union Oyster House, beloved by locals and tourists as a purveyor of such New England fare as broiled haddock and Boston baked beans. At Jacob Wirth’s,
however, lunch and dinner menus include reliable Germanic standards: Rhenish Sauerbraten,heaping plates of Bratwurst and Knockwurst, plus pork loin, Sauerkraut, genuine German potato salad and -- ah! -- admittedly darn good potato pancakes.
Whenever I am in San Francisco, I try to find the time to head down to Front Street, a short thoroughfare close to the bay front Embarcadero, with Financial District high-rises and steep Telegraph
and Nob Hills looming not too far off. My destination: Schroeder’s. Like Jacob Wirth’s, this thoroughly Germanic restaurant was founded by an industrious newcomer -- Henry Schroeder -- from what was then
Prussian territory. In 1893, he opened his establishment for business, originally maintaining it as a “men-only” kind of place, attracting a varied clientele of business executives, bankers, merchants, and
sea captains. Not until 1935 were women allowed in after 1:30 in the afternoon. (Another coincidence: a German restaurant named Schroeder’s was a longtime fixture in Boston’s Financial District prior to
closing several years ago.)
San Francisco’s Schroeder’s was destroyed during the epic earthquake and fire that bolted through the city on April 18, 1906.
Henry temporarily relocated to the corner of 16th and Missions streets -- then showed his determination by rebuilding at a different Front Street location. Seventy-eight years after Schroeder’s death in 1921, owner Max Kneische made an across-the-street move -- complete with the original rosewood bar, hefty ceiling timber beams and wonderful Bierstube murals painted early on by Herman Richter, an Itinerant artist from Hamburg.
At this oldest and biggest German restaurant on America’s West Coast, menu stalwarts include Dorschleben, Seelachs, and
-- ah, again! -- potato pancakes among the appetizer choices, and such traditional main-course dishes as Jäger steak, Bavarian Spätzle, Wiener and Jäger Schnitzels, Sauerbraten, truly
German meatloaf, and assorted sausages such as Swiss Bratwurst with pickled red cabbage. Dimpflmeier bread is a house specialty. For dessert, momentarily forget calorie totals by treating yourself to apple Strudel,
Linzer torte, or Sacher torte.
High Tea on the Canadian Prairies
By Doreen Pendgracs
It has not been an easy journey for her, but it has certainly been an exciting and colorful life that has led the little
Roswitha, born in Koln-Lindenthal, Germany, 61 years ago, to life as an award-winning entrepreneur in Winnipeg, Canada.
Today, as owner of the Tea Cozy Restaurant, Roswitha Scharf-Dessureault can always be found smiling and ready to welcome guests
to her European-style establishment in the trendy Osborne Village neighborhood of Winnipeg, Manitoba. But do not forget to sign the guest book! "If you browse through my guest book, you'll find customers
from all parts of the globe. I especially love to receive guests from my homeland," she says.
Roswitha's hometown is Darmstadt in the region of Frankfurt am Rhein. In 1968, she and her (first) husband left Germany, bringing
their two young children to a new life in Canada. "We had with us only five suitcases and $500 when we arrived in Canada, and I couldn't understand any English," recalls Roswitha. "I shed many
tears onto the floor of the Medical Arts Building, where I had to get a job as a cleaning lady. It was a far cry from my days in Germany, where I worked as a medical masseuse at the biggest hospital in
Berlin."
However, that was just the beginning of the hard times that lay ahead. "My husband worked as a pastry chef, but he wasn't
happy in Canada. At his urging, our family moved back to Germany in 1974, only to return to Canada a year later. These were unsettling times for our children, but it was clear that they were preferring the
Canadian lifestyle. In 1979, my husband abandoned us and returned to Germany to pursue his own life. Our son and daughter were now teenagers and about to follow their own dreams. I worked hard to ensure they
could live them."
Roswitha learned English by reading newspapers and watching television. She got a job in retail, gaining the courage to take on
increasingly responsible positions and soon made the move to the hospitality industry, serving as manager of two popular Winnipeg establishments. Still she missed her homeland. "In 1982, with only a small
savings account as backing, I returned once more to Germany in an attempt to decide my future. But my children (who now numbered three) were adamant that they wanted to live in Canada. I made a family decision
that Germany was in my past and our future would be in Canada."
Munich Wine Havens: Heavenly Ways to Savor the Sights
By Marilyn and Paul Nejelski
Munich is justly famous for its beer halls and Oktoberfest. However, it is also a great wine town. A mural in the
restaurant of the City Hall depicts a humorous battle between animated champagne bottles and beer tankards. A street just outside on the Marienplatz has been named Weinstrasse for centuries because of its wine stores and taverns.
The traditional wine houses, wine cellars, and wine rooms offer vintages and food from Germany’s diverse regions. A growing
number of wine bars, cafes, and vinothekssignal a new generation sampling Italian, French, or other international wines and dishes.
Eighty percent of German wine is white, while much of the red wine comes from European Union partners. To encourage informal
sampling, all these establishments have at least six white wines and several reds by the glass, called Schoppenweine (open wine).
These havens are heavenly ways to savor the sights of Munich since they are close to -- sometimes in -- wonderful tourist
destinations. Our favorites are grouped by neighborhood.
City Hall
After you have seen and heard the City Hall glockenspiel, have lunch in the basement. The Ratskeller
offers Franconian wine in a variety of delightful rooms, including an ornate wine tavern.
The most famous food store in Germany is only a block north of City Hall: Alois Dallmayr.
Just upstairs from this vast display of epicurean delights is a welcoming dining room and separate wine bar. At a recent lunch, we enjoyed Italian Prosecco, French Sancerre, and a Wurttemberg red wine.
Visit the nearby Church of the Holy Spirit, preferably for a concert, then walk across the street for a candlelight dinner at
Weinhaus Schneider which featuresNahe and other German wines to accompany your “vintner’s platter” of cold meats, cheeses, and salads. Or down the street, at Graffunder, have Italian
regional cuisine with Lombardy wines from Riviera di Sol on Lake Garda.
Food Market
A few blocks south of City Hall, the sprawling food market is a prime tourist attraction. Directly facing the market,
Weinpfaltz-Stube bei Ruth sells only Pfalz wine to a lively local crowd. Take your glass of Silvaner, get a snack or meal from the numerous food stands, and sit at one of the many long public tables.
The Café Nymphenburger Sekt is located in the middle of the market. Enjoy a glass ofsekt (German sparkling wine) at a table by the fountain statue of comedian Karl Valentine. A block south, the
Holzbaur has Wuttenberg wines.
Nearby, the City Museum offers exhibits on Munich history, as well as puppets, photography, and musical instruments. Several
classic movies are screened each day at the adjoining “filmmuseum.” Before or after a visit, stop in the same building at the Stadt Museum Café where Italian Barberas are as popular as German Rieslings.
Karlsplatz and Train Station
Ten years ago, the prestigious Excelsior Hotel created Geisel’s Vinothek
to showcase its spectacular wine collection. Today, this replica of an Italian Alps trattoria is the best all-around wine haven in Munich and is especially popular with women.
Founded in 1852 in a 15th century building, Weinhaus Neuner
is one of the few Munich restaurants to win a listing in the Michelin Guide. The elegant dining room with an adjoining informal wine room serves nouvelle and German regional cuisine with equal grace. The Deutsches Theater (the summer home of the Budapest Operetta Theater) is in the neighborhood.
New and trendy, the Lenbach, a 19th century palace at historic Karlspfatz, combines a restaurant with a huge bar where Schiki-Miki (self-appointed Beautiful People) sip the wines of Chile and South Africa.
Odeonplatz and North
Tour the Royal Residence, then visit next door, on Odeon Platz, the Pfalzer Weinprobierstube in der Residenz. Only Pfalz wine is served in beautiful large vaulted rooms. A block north,
Kafer’s am Hofgarten is also part of the Residence complex, but specializes in French and Italian wine served in a beautiful Belle Epoque Paris bistro setting.
Further north, near the University and the Alte Pinakothek art museum, the delightful Sudtiroler Weinstadl
has Austrian-style wines and food from South Tirol, Italy’s most northern province. In the Schwabing arts and antique district, Rolandseck overlooks a peaceful park and features Baden wines.
Of course, many tourist destinations themselves often serve excellent wine, such as sekt, on the terrace of the Staatoper, or white wine with a strawberry is served in the courtyard of the Deutsches Theater. So, next time you are in Munich, enjoy the sights and reach for a stein of…no, make that a glass of wine!
Calendar – February 2002
New Ulm, MN
February 9: Fasching. Celebrate German Mardi Gras at Turner Hall. Entertainment, arts & crafts, dancing, food, costume contest & parade. For information contact
Heritage Fest 507-354-8850 or see www.newulmtel.net
February 9: Bock Beer Festival. Outdoor Winter Fest at the August Schell Brewing Company. For information call 800-770-5020.
Hermann, MO
March 23-24: Hermann Wurstfest. The 23rd annual celebration of Hermann’s 160-year history of sausage making and German culture. For information see www.hermannmo.com or contact the Hermann Area Chamber of Commerce, 800-932-8687.
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