The Year of Our Discontent

 

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way—in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only.

A great deal of water has passed under the bridge since Dickens published his novel A Tale of Two Cities in 1859 wherein he described a time leading up to the French Revolution and its Reign of Terror.  Even he could see a ray of hope amid the darkness. I think I can safely say that very little that has occurred over the past 12 months can ameliorate the long litany of death, disasters, police violence, racial unrest, unemployment, contempt for civilized behavior, and to top it all off, an all out assault on the Constitution and American democracy led by the very individuals we elected to uphold and protect them.  Just one year ago I had no idea that 2020 was going to turn into an annus horriblis, a dystopian world of almost epic and catastrophic proportions.  It was the worst of times . . . period.

As I sit here writing this, the weather has turned quite dreary as a large and intense winter storm is headed eastward from the Great Plains; a particularly drab ending to an exceedingly grotty year.  New Year’s Eve is normally a happy time.  At the end of a festive holiday season we are glad to welcome a new year of promise while bidding a wistful farewell to the year gone by.  Not this time.  All I can say is good riddance!

It is time to look to the future although I must confess that 2021 will not be getting off to an auspicious start.  Over 300,000 have died from the COVID-19 novel coronavirus pandemic in this country and the number of deaths continue to rise at an alarming rate.  Just this past week a new, more virulent strain of the virus first recorded in the United Kingdom, has now reached our shores and we know neither how it arrived or how it might spread.  There are major problems rolling out new vaccines whose impact on combating the original virus is yet to be quantified and our government continues to be as flummoxed and dismissive as it has been since the pandemic began.  The new year will continue to find this country locked down and isolated from the rest of the world.

We look forward to the inauguration of a new, caring, and qualified president after the four year nightmare of the T*** interregnum during which it turned a blind eye to the needs of the country and its people.  It dismantled programs to provide proper health care, especially as the pandemic ravaged the country, as well as efforts to address climate change and environmental degradation.  It abandoned our allies while getting cozy with brutal dictators.  It allowed the president and his family to stuff their pockets and purses with ill-gotten riches at the expense of the American people.  And even after being cast out by a substantial majority of the electorate it continues to attack the Constitution seeking ways to overturn the outcome, claiming the election was stolen while failing to provide any evidence to support its claims.  As a result, this country has divided into two widely divergent camps.  America is not what it used to be and we can honestly wonder whether it will ever be the same again.

Pardon me if I don’t toot my horn, throw confetti, set off fireworks, or pop open that bottle of champagne.  I don’t want to be a party pooper, but 2021 is already beginning to dim before that magical hour of anticipated renewal.  However, I remain hopeful for the little blessings we continue to enjoy and cherish even though I know it is going to be an uphill slog over the coming months.  That is why we should all try just a little harder . . . give it that extra measure of positivity as we welcome 2021.

So let me wish you and yours a happier and healthier New Year.  Let’s hope for the best.  It’s all we can really do.

Merry Christmas!

Wishing all of my Christian friends a very Merry Christmas and a Peaceful New Year. I hope that your holiday is a festive one and that you and your families remain safe and healthy. May your days ahead be blessed with much happiness and fulfillment. Let us reflect wisely and grow spiritual to become better individuals and caring communities.
 

Prawns and Penquins at Sunset

My “Eating Vicariously” series to date has been primarily a romp through some interesting local eating establishments in the Washington, DC area . . . places where I would like to be eating right now if that were possible during the COVID-19 pandemic.  In my last posting I recalled some memorable adventures with German Wurst.  This time around I am thinking fondly of two meals I enjoyed in the environs of Cape Town, South Africa. 

I don’t think I will ever forget two meals my wife and I enjoyed during our stay in Cape Town, South Africa in 2017.  Long before we ever arrived in the West Cape after visiting the region and Johannesburg and a photo safari in the northeastern corner of the country, I promised myself that we would enjoy a quiet dinner on the water, eating local seafood as we watched the sun set over the South Atlantic.We savored several fine meals in and around Cape Town, but probably none so much as that promised sunset meal at La Perla.  An old-school

Mediterranean restaurant and a mainstay in the Sea Point neighborhood for over five decades, La Perlais located just over a mile down Beach Road from our waterfront flat at Green Point, a route we would become well familiar with during our stay.  It could not have matched my expectations any better had I designed the place myself.

It was a very pleasant southern hemisphere autumn evening and it was warm enough that we were able to sit on the terrace with a fine view of the ocean.  My wife ordered an attractively plated shrimp pasta dish while I went for all the gusto, ordering the seafood platter, the house specialty featuring an ethereal assortment of flavors – crayfish, langoustine, kingklip

(somewhat similar to cusk or ling in this country), calamari, mussels, and the piece de la resistance, both giant and Mozambican prawns.  A bottle of Stellenzicht Golden Triangle Pinotage from the Stellenbosch region east of Cape Town which we had visited earlier in the day rounded out this delicious meal.  A gentle breeze blew in off the Atlantic as we watched ships silhouetted by the setting sun as Cape Town’s Golden Mile cam alive with evening revelers.

Prawns were also on the menu a couple days later when we visited the African penguin colony at the Boulder Beach World Heritage Site on the southern edge of Simon’s Town.  After

strolling the beach with our new web-footed friends, also known as Jack Ass Penguins due to their distinctive mating call which resembles a mule braying, and  watching them waddling across the sand and swimming in the boulder-strewn azure water, we retired a very short distance to the Boulder Beach Inn and

Restaurant, a simple beach café serving a wide selection of reasonably priced dishes ranging from burgers and curries, salads, and fish and chips.  The menu leaned heavily toward seafood and why not? Once again I opted for the  Mozambican

prawns with butter and lemon which went fine with a couple bottles of the ubiquitous Castle Lager from  one of the oldest commercial breweries in South Africa in Johannesburg, First brewed in 1895, it is called "the beer that stood the test of time".  I had no complaints.  It was a pleasant early evening meal on the covered deck overlooking False Bay with stunning views toward Gordons Bay and the setting sun illuminating the sharp relief of the Hottentots-Holland Mountains beyond. 

It all seems so long ago and far away now but sitting here typing this it has all come back to me.  What I would not give for a platter of fresh seafood right now.  Better yet a pile of grilled prawns.   Throw in one of those beautiful sunsets and it would be enough to forget this pandemic.   Even for a short time.   So once again I close my eyes and daydream.   Everything is darkest before the prawns.

My Wurst Days Are Often My Best Days

My “Eating Vicariously” series to date has been a romp through some interesting local eating establishments in the Washington, DC area . . . places where I would like to be eating right now if that were possible during the COVID-19 pandemic.  Today I am making a  detour . . . not to just a place to eat, but instead I am focusing on a particular food in particular places I miss.

I have been thinking a great deal about authentic German sausages of late; how I would like to savor their aromas and flavors.  At the moment they are, for the most part, out of reach.   Sure, there are hot dogs, what I frequently called “tube steaks” when I was a kid, and what most Americans accept as bratwurst found in your local grocery stores, but these are a dim comparison to what I am referring to.  Granted, having grown up in the upper Midwest, I had an introduction to authentic German sausage long before I ever set foot in Germany.  There were German restaurants and delicatessens in my native Chicago, and in Milwaukee, where my family resided during my university days and which were familiar haunts on my home visits.  If you are lucky enough to reside in a large metropolitan area like Washington, DC, there are a few German restaurants and delis where one might purchase bona fide German sausages, but these are not as easy to access during the current pandemic with many restaurants closed and us locked down in our homes.   So what is a person to do?   For me it’s easy enough. I daydream.

It’s time to live and eat vicariously again, to look beyond the daily disquieting news reports, to look back to a happier time, at least for me personally.  In the early 1970s I was attending university in Freiburg im Breisgau, in Baden-Württemberg in the far southwestern corner of Germany where the Rhine River valley and the western edge of the Schwarzwald - the Black Forest - meet.   Not only did I submerge myself in German culture and language, I also explored the fascinating nuances of German regional cuisine, and none more so than the regional variants of the ubiquitous sausage - der Wurst.  I am not talking about what most American think of as sausage; hot dogs or those sausages found on pizzas and in various Italian dishes, or those links or patties served up with eggs and home fries for breakfast.

Still, I had no concept of the rich variety of regional sausage offerings in Germany.  Each region, indeed even some towns and cities, have their own unique  sausage recipes, and depending to whom you talk, there is a debate just how many there are.  I have been told that there are at least 1,500 varieties, each with their special  ingredients and blends of spices, and a method in which they are prepared and served:  Kochwurst (pre-cooked before processing and then cooked again - such as Leberwurst and Blutwurst); Brühwurst (scalded), including Fleischwurst, Bierwurst, Ziegeunerwurst and what we know as frankfurters or hot dogs in this country; and Rohwurst (raw) which is made from raw meats mixed with spices and then smoked for preservation, including Landjaeger which is somewhat similar to the Slim Jims one can purchase in almost any convenience store in America.  Brühwurst is certainly the most common with around 800 types available throughout Germany which can be served in variety of ways cold or hot.  Germans also face the age old conundrum as to what is the proper way to eat a traditional German Wurst in its myriad manifestations.  Yet there is one commonality to all of them.  Alles hat ein Ende aber nur die Wurst hat zwei. [Everything has an ending, but only the sausage has two].

When most Americans think of German sausage it is the Bratwurst which is normally made from roasted pork and grilled.  They can usually be found in the prepared meat sections of most supermarkets across the country and are often served at American sporting events along with onions and condiments.  The Bratwurst, of which there are also dozens of varieties, is probably the original Imbissbuden, or German street food, served from Schnellimbiss, or grill stand.

Probably the best known in Germany is the Nürnberger Rostbratwurst; a finger-sized course ground pork sausage seasoned with marjoram, ginger, and cardamom, and grilled over an open beech wood fire since the early 14th century.  They are frequently served up to a dozen at a time.  The Rostbratwurst is unique to Nürnberg and traditionally served with sauerkraut, potato salad, horseradish, mustard, fresh bread, and usually washed down with a local Franconian beer.

I had my first opportunity to sample this local variant in October 2015 when I was invited by the City of Nuremberg to speak at the 70th anniversary commemoration of the International Military Tribunal [The Nuremberg Trials], held there in 1945-1946.  After my presentation in the historic courtroom in the Palace of Justice, my hosts treated me to a wonderful dinner of Rostbratwurst at the Goldenes Posthorn, one of

Germany’s oldest restaurants established in 1498 and facing the old city hall and the St. Sebaldus Church (circa 1212) dedicated to the city’s patron saint.  Well-known to kings, artists, and intellectuals of their age, Albrecht Dürer (1471-1528), a Nürnberg native, ate here frequently as did Hans Sachs (1494-1576), another native son and one of the city’s great Master Singers.  Richard Wagner (1813-1883) wrote the first part of his Die Meistersanger von Nürnberg here and the opera was first presented in Munich in 1868.  It is still

the repository of Dürer’s drinking cup and Sachs’ playing cards, dating from circa 1560.  I enjoyed my first platter of Nürnberg Rostbratwurst prepared by local butchers and served on tin plates along with drafts of the local Tucher beer.

On a following night I enjoyed another platter of Rostbratwurst at the Bratwursthäusle just a few steps from my hotel and also with a view of St. Sebaldus and the city’s main market square and the Frauenkirche [Church of Our Lady].  The eponymous

Rostbratwurst are made by the resident butchers insuring that only the freshest ingredients are used.  The sausages are

grilled on aged beechwood whose redolence strikes you as soon as you step inside.  Tired of sausages (how is this even possible)?  Both establishments also serve a variety of traditional Franconian dishes and regional wines. 

During my time in Nürnberg I made every effort to enjoy the local Rostbratwurst as much as possible as I was unlikely to find them elsewhere.  If you do not have the time or inclination to dine in a restaurant, they are also available “drei im Weggla” 

– three sausages smeared with mustard and served on a roll from any of the Schnellimbissen around town.   This is how I became familiar with German sausages in the first place.    It is a quick and delicious meal to go.

Living and studying in Germany it was easy enough to share an allegiance to the particular types of sausages native to the region I was then calling home.  I am referring to the various styles of Grillwürste – Bratwurst, Knackwurst, Weisswurst and Bockwurst – prepared and sold at Schnellimbissen found on the

market square surrounding the Freiburger Münster [cathedral circa 1200].  The stands closest to the entrance of the Münster were those most favored by tourists.  To keep business fair and equitable, the stands would rotate positions each month.  Common to all of these grill stands, however, was the popular lange Rote / rote Lange aka Münsterplatzwurst, certainly the

signature sausage in Freiburg im Breisgau.  It is the favorite style of Bratwurst in the Swabian region of Württemberg; similar to the Bockwurst, it is made from finely ground pork and bacon and a mix of spices and herbs.  

Freiburg’s market square was like a magnet.  After a day of classes it was a place to meet friends for a couple beers or to share a bottle of wine.  On days when I only had afternoon or evening classes, I would go there in the mornings to shop for fresh produce and whatever else struck my fancy, and I would always queue up at one of the grill stands for a quick lunch – a lange Rote nestled between two halves of a freshly baked

Brötchen or Weckle [small bread roll] referred to locally as a Fleischhandschuh [meat mitt] before returning to my flat to study and write.  Most of the grill stands were open from early morning until mid-afternoon when the market shut down for the day.  Call me a purist if you want, but to this day this is the way I always prefer to eat a German Wurst.

A lange Rote is like no other sausage, measuring a full 14 inches in length with a series of diagonal cuts to prevent it from splitting wide open during grilling.  I quickly learned the proper way to eat it so as not to give myself away as an outsider; those who request that their sausage be bent or cut in half so that it might better fit into its roll.  No self respecting Freiburger, or Bobbele (a topic for another time), would demean her-/himself to make such a request.  The only real question at hand was whether to order one’s lange Rote “mit oder ohne Zwiebel und Senf “ . . . with or without a topping of carmelized onions grown locally, or a dollop of spicy mustard. 

Strong are my memories of my introduction to the lange Rote

during my student days in Freiburg in the early 1970s.  I sampled a variety from various grill stands on the market square, but like most locals, one plights one’s troth to one or another and remains loyal even when the length of the queue might be longer than at the other stands.  In my case it was and still is the grill stand operated by four generations of the Meier family since it first appeared in 1949 at the same time some of the farmers at the market were offering boiled Wurst from pots along with their other wares.  Grilled Wurst first appeared in 1951 and the rest is history.

Back in the early 1970s, the Meier grill stand was basically a covered trailer with a small propane gas grill and just enough room for two people to work close together.  A rote Lange cost DM 1,50 [ca. US 50¢ , or $3.50 in 2020 dollars].  The equipment and price had not changed much on my subsequent visits through the 1990s, but I noticed major improvements on my most recent visit, in 2015.  Meier’s had taken up a

permanent location on the north side of the Münster.   The stand was much larger and modern with several grills and servers.  The menu now included a kurze Rote [short red] and a dicke Rote [fat red] which I am sure the tourists enjoyed as they both fit more snugly into the roll.  These were also available at most of the other stands.  Finally, Meier’s offerings included the unique scharfe Rote, a spicy version of the original lange Rote.  Amazing is the fact that the prices have remained stable at €2,50, or US$3.25.  Despite it all, I always ordered a lange Rote mit Zwiebel und Senf.

These days I am confined to eating the tube steaks and sausage links and patties familiar to Americans, but I can never stop thinking of those visits to the Freiburger  Marktplatz, or those more recent memorable meals at the Goldenes Posthorn and the Bratwursthäusle, in Nürnberg.  I can still hear the sizzling of the grill.  Sausages may have two ends, but there is no end to the joy afforded by German Wurst over the years.  Einfach lecker! [simple delicious]   Now pardon me as I return to my daydreaming.

Note Bene: if your mouth is watering right now as mine is, perhaps you will want to read my September 4, 2019 posting on the popular German Currywurst:
http/lookingtowardportugal.blogspot.com/2019/09/enjoying-currywurst-another-german.html