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29 March 2009
26 March 2009
Just another day in Munich…
On the Saturday after my offal fest we wondered around Munich and checked out a couple of museums. We managed to find our way to the English Garten, which is a big park with open fields, a stream, and plenty of paths sprinkled throughout.
It also has a pagoda with a biergarten nearby. So not wanting to be rude guests, we stopped at the biergarten for lunch.
We just had a couple of sausages and some kraut along with a liter of Hofbrau bier.
After this we sort of roamed around a bit and looked at the buildings. Eric had to go back to the hotel for some reason, so Joe and I went to another museum. We had agreed that we would call each other around 6:00 PM and we would decide where to have dinner.
After Joe and I were kicked out of the museum*, we walked back towards the center of town. As we were walking I wasn’t really paying any attention to where we were. I guess that I had sort of lost track of where we were. I didn’t think that Joe had been to this area before, so I didn’t want to panic him when I realized where we were. I looked up and saw a familiar object.
“Joe, do you know where we are?”
“Not really.”
“Do you realize what that is up ahead?” I asked.
“What?”
The poor kid didn’t see it yet.
Now I’m trying to think up a good way to break this to him. “Do you see that sign up there on the corner?” Something was blocking his view. As we got a little closer, it started to come into view for him.
“See that? Do you know what that means?”
“I think so” he said.
“You do realize that we really should stop here, right? I mean we can call Eric from here. This is a perfect meeting place!”
“OK”
Once inside we found a couple of seats at a table alongside two German couples. It took us a while to get in touch with Eric, and shortly after he arrived we decided to eat here.
The Weisses Brauhaus was, of course, the location where I had eaten the sauered kidneys the day before. Today I had pretty much decided that I would stick with something a bit less visceral. There was a page inserted into the menu with several “seasonal” items that were available “for a short time only”. Thinking that they must be fresh, I began to concentrate on this sheet.
One item in particular grabbed my attention. It was “glassiert schwan-something”. I understood the glazed part (glassiert) and knew that a Schwann was a swan. Now I have never heard of anyone eating swan, but I’m sure it could be done. I have eaten a number of animals (or parts of animals) since I’ve been in Europe that are not traditionally thought of as foodstuffs in the good ole USA. How bad could it be?
Eric and Joe got their meals before I did. When the woman came over to the table with my plate, I immediately knew that I had screwed up this translation. I looked at Eric and said,
“This is not at all what I was expecting.”
The German woman to my left began laughing hysterically. I looked at her and tried to explain my confusion, even pointing it out to her on the menu. She just kept laughing. The gentleman opposite us at the table told me that this was a very traditional Bavarian meal. I assured them that it was OK, and proceeded to dive into my meal.
My meal, in case you can’t tell from the above picture, was a plate of, what must have been at least 10, pig tails. I dug right in, and did not give them the satisfaction of seeing the slightest bit of fear on my face. After the second one, the gentleman on the other side of the table asked me how I liked it. I told him that it was really quite good. And they were. Well, at least the first half dozen were. I gave one to Eric, and left one on the plate. There were just too many of them.
The tails themselves have very little meat on them, and are mainly fat and skin around the end of the spine. I was eating them with my hands, like one might eat a cob of corn. The two women at the table were staring in disbelief the whole time. I kept offering them one, but they would only howl, “NOOOOOOOOO!”
I think that the term schwan in the name was actually a Bavarian dialect and would be more proper if it was written as schwein. They were glazed though (so I got that part right), and by the end of the meal my hands were also glazed. If you’ve ever picked the meat from a couple of ham hocks, my hands felt very similar. They were covered in the remnants of the glaze, the fat, and the collagen from the skin and bones. i.e. they were a mess.
I went to the restroom and washed my hands three times before I used the facilities (and then once after).
I think I really like Munich.
I will post some more pictures from this trip soon…
* We were kicked out along with everyone else because it was closing time.
It also has a pagoda with a biergarten nearby. So not wanting to be rude guests, we stopped at the biergarten for lunch.
We just had a couple of sausages and some kraut along with a liter of Hofbrau bier.
After this we sort of roamed around a bit and looked at the buildings. Eric had to go back to the hotel for some reason, so Joe and I went to another museum. We had agreed that we would call each other around 6:00 PM and we would decide where to have dinner.
After Joe and I were kicked out of the museum*, we walked back towards the center of town. As we were walking I wasn’t really paying any attention to where we were. I guess that I had sort of lost track of where we were. I didn’t think that Joe had been to this area before, so I didn’t want to panic him when I realized where we were. I looked up and saw a familiar object.
“Joe, do you know where we are?”
“Not really.”
“Do you realize what that is up ahead?” I asked.
“What?”
The poor kid didn’t see it yet.
Now I’m trying to think up a good way to break this to him. “Do you see that sign up there on the corner?” Something was blocking his view. As we got a little closer, it started to come into view for him.
“See that? Do you know what that means?”
“I think so” he said.
“You do realize that we really should stop here, right? I mean we can call Eric from here. This is a perfect meeting place!”
“OK”
Once inside we found a couple of seats at a table alongside two German couples. It took us a while to get in touch with Eric, and shortly after he arrived we decided to eat here.
The Weisses Brauhaus was, of course, the location where I had eaten the sauered kidneys the day before. Today I had pretty much decided that I would stick with something a bit less visceral. There was a page inserted into the menu with several “seasonal” items that were available “for a short time only”. Thinking that they must be fresh, I began to concentrate on this sheet.
One item in particular grabbed my attention. It was “glassiert schwan-something”. I understood the glazed part (glassiert) and knew that a Schwann was a swan. Now I have never heard of anyone eating swan, but I’m sure it could be done. I have eaten a number of animals (or parts of animals) since I’ve been in Europe that are not traditionally thought of as foodstuffs in the good ole USA. How bad could it be?
Eric and Joe got their meals before I did. When the woman came over to the table with my plate, I immediately knew that I had screwed up this translation. I looked at Eric and said,
“This is not at all what I was expecting.”
The German woman to my left began laughing hysterically. I looked at her and tried to explain my confusion, even pointing it out to her on the menu. She just kept laughing. The gentleman opposite us at the table told me that this was a very traditional Bavarian meal. I assured them that it was OK, and proceeded to dive into my meal.
My meal, in case you can’t tell from the above picture, was a plate of, what must have been at least 10, pig tails. I dug right in, and did not give them the satisfaction of seeing the slightest bit of fear on my face. After the second one, the gentleman on the other side of the table asked me how I liked it. I told him that it was really quite good. And they were. Well, at least the first half dozen were. I gave one to Eric, and left one on the plate. There were just too many of them.
The tails themselves have very little meat on them, and are mainly fat and skin around the end of the spine. I was eating them with my hands, like one might eat a cob of corn. The two women at the table were staring in disbelief the whole time. I kept offering them one, but they would only howl, “NOOOOOOOOO!”
I think that the term schwan in the name was actually a Bavarian dialect and would be more proper if it was written as schwein. They were glazed though (so I got that part right), and by the end of the meal my hands were also glazed. If you’ve ever picked the meat from a couple of ham hocks, my hands felt very similar. They were covered in the remnants of the glaze, the fat, and the collagen from the skin and bones. i.e. they were a mess.
I went to the restroom and washed my hands three times before I used the facilities (and then once after).
I think I really like Munich.
I will post some more pictures from this trip soon…
* We were kicked out along with everyone else because it was closing time.
15 March 2009
Geriatric Delinquents and Kalbshirn…
This last week I was in training in the town of Oberammergau which is deep in southern Bavaria. The class went well, better than I had expected. The location was fantastic although the weather was not great. Oberammergau is very near to the Bavarian Alps, and is a beautiful place. The weather however, prevented me from getting any pictures of the mountains, but I did get several photos of the town. I will post pictures from this trip when I get home in about a week.
The hotel we stayed at used to be some sort of physical rehabilitation and rest clinic. It still has some of these functions, but they also rent out rooms. There were about 50 of us in the class, and it seemed as though the rest of the people in the hotel were octogenarians (at a minimum). After I checked into the hotel I tried to get in line for the elevator. I was behind the walker brigade. I quickly realized it was going to take too much time to get on the elevator, so I took the stairs. I know this sounds like I was just being lazy by trying to take the elevator in the first place, but I did have three bags with me and had to go up three flights of stairs.
On the last day, at breakfast, I was trying to get a glass of water, and I couldn’t get near the water pitcher because of this group of folks that were hovering around the feeding table like geriatric piranhas in a chum frenzy. I finally just gave up and decided to come back later after the blood had cleared.
Friday was a highlight for my viscera eating campaign. In the afternoon we were at the Weissesbrauhaus (the land of milk and honey), where I had a Schneiderweisse Original and an Aventinus Weizenbock alongside some saured schweine kidneys. Not saured as in soured, but sauered as in marinated for a couple of days (like sauerbraten). The kidneys were very good, and although they did taste “organ-y” they did not have the faintest trace of urine to them. I think that may have been the first time I’ve ever used the terms Organ and Urine in the same sentence when speaking about food.
Friday evening we were at Der Pschorr (which is the beirhalle for the Hacker-Pschorr brewery). When we got there I saw that they had a menu page devoted to innereien (which is the German word for viscera or guts). Since it was Friday the 13th, I was feeling lucky and decided to test my luck against getting mad cow disease. I had been considering the beef heart, but finally ended up going with the Kalbshirn or calf brain. It was sliced, breaded, and pan fried and was served with some sauce and a very nice potato salad. The brains themselves were surprisingly good. They were extremely creamy, and had a very subtle flavor. They didn’t really have too much taste, and were sort of like what I imagine a bland fried flan would taste like.
It was the second time I’ve eaten kidneys, but the first for brain.
That night I dreamt of eating grass, and literally had some brain farts the next morning.
The hotel we stayed at used to be some sort of physical rehabilitation and rest clinic. It still has some of these functions, but they also rent out rooms. There were about 50 of us in the class, and it seemed as though the rest of the people in the hotel were octogenarians (at a minimum). After I checked into the hotel I tried to get in line for the elevator. I was behind the walker brigade. I quickly realized it was going to take too much time to get on the elevator, so I took the stairs. I know this sounds like I was just being lazy by trying to take the elevator in the first place, but I did have three bags with me and had to go up three flights of stairs.
On the last day, at breakfast, I was trying to get a glass of water, and I couldn’t get near the water pitcher because of this group of folks that were hovering around the feeding table like geriatric piranhas in a chum frenzy. I finally just gave up and decided to come back later after the blood had cleared.
Friday was a highlight for my viscera eating campaign. In the afternoon we were at the Weissesbrauhaus (the land of milk and honey), where I had a Schneiderweisse Original and an Aventinus Weizenbock alongside some saured schweine kidneys. Not saured as in soured, but sauered as in marinated for a couple of days (like sauerbraten). The kidneys were very good, and although they did taste “organ-y” they did not have the faintest trace of urine to them. I think that may have been the first time I’ve ever used the terms Organ and Urine in the same sentence when speaking about food.
Friday evening we were at Der Pschorr (which is the beirhalle for the Hacker-Pschorr brewery). When we got there I saw that they had a menu page devoted to innereien (which is the German word for viscera or guts). Since it was Friday the 13th, I was feeling lucky and decided to test my luck against getting mad cow disease. I had been considering the beef heart, but finally ended up going with the Kalbshirn or calf brain. It was sliced, breaded, and pan fried and was served with some sauce and a very nice potato salad. The brains themselves were surprisingly good. They were extremely creamy, and had a very subtle flavor. They didn’t really have too much taste, and were sort of like what I imagine a bland fried flan would taste like.
It was the second time I’ve eaten kidneys, but the first for brain.
That night I dreamt of eating grass, and literally had some brain farts the next morning.
08 March 2009
Baloney and Dan Marino?
A couple of Saturdays ago a friend and I went to Bologna Italy. We met up with a woman who works in our building, and a friend of hers there. They were planning on renting a car and going to San Marino on Sunday.
San Marino is a very small republic totally within Italy. It is the smallest of the European micro-states. Apparently it is a big shopping area, because their taxes are lower. Shopping was the reason that the two women had come. We thought we might tag along if we caught up with them early enough.
Saturday evening my friend and I wandered around Bologna, drank some wine, and had the best gnocchi I’ve ever eaten.
Sunday we got down to breakfast at the hotel and did not see the two women. We decided to go to San Marino anyway. We took the 1 hour train ride to Rimini, then the 20 minute bus ride up to San Marino.
What a beautiful area! We did not visit the shopping district, as we pretty much stayed in the old fortified town at the top of a hill for the afternoon.
From there you could see (what seemed like) all of Italy.
If you faced west you could see snow covered mountains...
Toward the east you are overlooking farmland and can see the Adriatic...
And there is a little rain falling somewhere to the northwest…
The fortified town is really pretty as well. This is the new wallpaper on my computer…
We took the second to last bus of the day back to Rimini, which is on the Adriatic coast. And since Rimini it is a coastal town, we decided to eat at a seafood restaurant there before taking the train back to Bologna.
The next day we saw the two women at breakfast. They had never even made it to San Marino. One of them was from Rimini, and they had visited her father and never made it to the shopping Mecca.
On Monday, my friend and I wandered around Bologna. We took photos, visited markets, ate good food, drank good wine, and admired some pretty Italian women. I even had one of those girly coffee drinks (a mocca-latte-choco-crème-fresh-machiatto, or some testicle-shriveling crap like that). I’m almost afraid to say that I liked it (but it really was pretty good).
The market was pretty big. They had plenty of fruit…
Vegetables…
Cheese…
And, of course, ham…
One of the butcher stalls had this painting on the back wall.
Doesn’t he remind you of Reverend Jim Ignatowski?
Almost every store in Bologna had mortadella (the original bologna that Oscar Mayer based his upon). I didn’t get any photos of it, but I did eat it for breakfast every morning while there. It is good, but it is not my favorite of the cured meats. I wonder if anyone fries it up for breakfast like Oscar Mayer’s. I can get it here in Wiesbaden, so perhaps that will be my next food project.
Bologna is a pretty town. It has a couple of leaning towers (I think these were built before the time of Terzaghi and Casagrande).
It’s hard to get a close-up picture that shows it, but both of these towers are leaning.
Bologna has a large concentration of covered walkways. Almost every building in the downtown area is built with the second floor extending over a walkway. It would be a nice place to shop in the rain.
There are some neat architectural flourishes on the buildings such as these faces that are popping out of holes.
It reminded me of the Joke Wall at the end of the Laugh-In.
The city has a large square with a fountain. Inside the fountain is statue of King Neptune…
And the King is surrounded by ...
... cherubs(?) …
... and below the cherubs are ...
… well, what appear to be …
… lactating mermaids?
When we left Tuesday, we were all struggling to get our carry-on bags configured so that we could fly on Ryan Air. If you are not aware of them, Ryan Air is a budget airline in Europe and their prices are great. However the restrictions on baggage are getting to really be a pain. You are allowed to have one bag that weighs no more 10 kilograms (22 pounds). I had more than that.
So I filled my coat sleeve with the items I had bought, threw the coat over my arm, and had them weigh the bag. 9.3 kilos. I was OK to pass. I cannot believe that the folks working the X-ray machine didn’t say anything about the 5 pounds of meat in the sleeve of my coat.
Here is part of the haul…
A big fatty slab of Guanciale (i.e. pork jowl bacon), some nicely fermented salami (with the plastic wrap), and three somewhat moldy salamis that I bought at a farmers market. Two of these moldy salamis are made from wild boar (one spicy, one not) and the other is made from Asina.
That is correct, I bought a moldy salami made from the meat of a female donkey. I haven’t tried it yet, but it does smell a bit funky. I’ll let you know how it is.
Last week I was in a training class for work, the week before that I was back in Turkey for work. Next week I’ll be in training in Oberammergau, after which I’ll be spending the weekend in Munich before heading to Stuttgart for a week of work.
So don’t expect an update for a couple of weeks… and be sure to check my flickr page for more photos.
San Marino is a very small republic totally within Italy. It is the smallest of the European micro-states. Apparently it is a big shopping area, because their taxes are lower. Shopping was the reason that the two women had come. We thought we might tag along if we caught up with them early enough.
Saturday evening my friend and I wandered around Bologna, drank some wine, and had the best gnocchi I’ve ever eaten.
Sunday we got down to breakfast at the hotel and did not see the two women. We decided to go to San Marino anyway. We took the 1 hour train ride to Rimini, then the 20 minute bus ride up to San Marino.
What a beautiful area! We did not visit the shopping district, as we pretty much stayed in the old fortified town at the top of a hill for the afternoon.
From there you could see (what seemed like) all of Italy.
If you faced west you could see snow covered mountains...
Toward the east you are overlooking farmland and can see the Adriatic...
And there is a little rain falling somewhere to the northwest…
The fortified town is really pretty as well. This is the new wallpaper on my computer…
We took the second to last bus of the day back to Rimini, which is on the Adriatic coast. And since Rimini it is a coastal town, we decided to eat at a seafood restaurant there before taking the train back to Bologna.
The next day we saw the two women at breakfast. They had never even made it to San Marino. One of them was from Rimini, and they had visited her father and never made it to the shopping Mecca.
On Monday, my friend and I wandered around Bologna. We took photos, visited markets, ate good food, drank good wine, and admired some pretty Italian women. I even had one of those girly coffee drinks (a mocca-latte-choco-crème-fresh-machiatto, or some testicle-shriveling crap like that). I’m almost afraid to say that I liked it (but it really was pretty good).
The market was pretty big. They had plenty of fruit…
Vegetables…
Cheese…
And, of course, ham…
One of the butcher stalls had this painting on the back wall.
Doesn’t he remind you of Reverend Jim Ignatowski?
Almost every store in Bologna had mortadella (the original bologna that Oscar Mayer based his upon). I didn’t get any photos of it, but I did eat it for breakfast every morning while there. It is good, but it is not my favorite of the cured meats. I wonder if anyone fries it up for breakfast like Oscar Mayer’s. I can get it here in Wiesbaden, so perhaps that will be my next food project.
Bologna is a pretty town. It has a couple of leaning towers (I think these were built before the time of Terzaghi and Casagrande).
It’s hard to get a close-up picture that shows it, but both of these towers are leaning.
Bologna has a large concentration of covered walkways. Almost every building in the downtown area is built with the second floor extending over a walkway. It would be a nice place to shop in the rain.
There are some neat architectural flourishes on the buildings such as these faces that are popping out of holes.
It reminded me of the Joke Wall at the end of the Laugh-In.
The city has a large square with a fountain. Inside the fountain is statue of King Neptune…
And the King is surrounded by ...
... cherubs(?) …
... and below the cherubs are ...
… well, what appear to be …
… lactating mermaids?
When we left Tuesday, we were all struggling to get our carry-on bags configured so that we could fly on Ryan Air. If you are not aware of them, Ryan Air is a budget airline in Europe and their prices are great. However the restrictions on baggage are getting to really be a pain. You are allowed to have one bag that weighs no more 10 kilograms (22 pounds). I had more than that.
So I filled my coat sleeve with the items I had bought, threw the coat over my arm, and had them weigh the bag. 9.3 kilos. I was OK to pass. I cannot believe that the folks working the X-ray machine didn’t say anything about the 5 pounds of meat in the sleeve of my coat.
Here is part of the haul…
A big fatty slab of Guanciale (i.e. pork jowl bacon), some nicely fermented salami (with the plastic wrap), and three somewhat moldy salamis that I bought at a farmers market. Two of these moldy salamis are made from wild boar (one spicy, one not) and the other is made from Asina.
That is correct, I bought a moldy salami made from the meat of a female donkey. I haven’t tried it yet, but it does smell a bit funky. I’ll let you know how it is.
Last week I was in a training class for work, the week before that I was back in Turkey for work. Next week I’ll be in training in Oberammergau, after which I’ll be spending the weekend in Munich before heading to Stuttgart for a week of work.
So don’t expect an update for a couple of weeks… and be sure to check my flickr page for more photos.
oh yeah, I almost forgot ...
How 'bout them Cards?
And ... my kimchi got the thumbs up from the wife (who happens to be Korean) of a guy I work with. I also made some kimchi fried rice (stir fried kimchi with rice) the other day. Now, I'm just one man talking, but ... that is something you only want to do when you are the only one home (possibly the only one in the neighborhood).
Boy, is that stuff ever stinky. It tastes great, but you don't want to be around when it is being cooked. Luckily for me Saturday was a nice day and I could air out the apartment.
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