Why have you forsaken me?

So I’m planning my trip to the Czech Republic. I decide that I will stay a couple of days in Prague and a couple of days in Plzen. Plzen can also be written Pilsen, and is the birthplace of Pilsner Beer. And yes I do plan to tour the Pilsner Urquell Brewery. I am also going to send a day in Leipzig, Germany before heading to Prague. Leipzig is home to Gose. Gose is a not very well known style of beer, a wheat beer, somewhat sour. It’s difficult to find, I’ve never tried it and don’t know if I’ll like it, but since it’s on the way…

I’ll be out of the office for the next four weeks. This month will be book-ended by trips to Czech and to Italy. The middle will be two weeks in Nuremberg. I will be working for three of those four weeks. Although I may try to steal some vacation time in Italy.

So I’ve got my train tickets booked, hotels reserved, everything is ready to go. Then I read Thursday’s Stars & Stripes online. Thursday has a travel section with stories about different destinations in Europe. Ta the end of the travel section is a small column that lists festivals and events being held around Europe. I glance down at the Czech Republic listing, under the “Prague” subheading is where I see it. It says Prague Beer Fest and it lasts a full week. I’m only booked at the hotel for three days, but that should be good enough.

Shouldn’t it?

I don’t need to be there from beginning to end, do I?

I am rechecking the dates when I begin to question the existence of God.

How could this happen?

Me and the Lord, I thought we had an understanding…

As you’ve probably already guessed, I will not be in Prague for the beer fest. I will be in Plzen the day the Prague Beer Fest starts. I will be back at work during the week of the Prague Beer Fest.


… shit.




In other news, I picked up this neat, hand painted, piece of Polish Pottery.



What is it? A cookie jar?



Not with that water seal trough around the lid…



What’s in there?



Why, it’s home made sauerkraut!

And here it is in an old pretzel container in the fridge with my second batch of Kimchi.



It’s a little salty, but I think if I rinse it off really well, it’ll be OK.

I showed it to my landlord, and the next day she gave me this other pickling crock…



Now I’ll have to figure out something to make in it.

Anyone up for some pickled pigs feet? Maybe some pickled tongue?

Right Place, Right Time? Or is it all just part of God's Plan?

I arrived in Amberg at approximately 15:45 on a Thursday. It had been lightly raining for a while. A couple of other guys and me had driven to Hohenfels early in the morning for a meeting. When we were finished there we ate lunch and drove to Amberg where I was going to spend the night. The others dropped me off at the hotel and headed back to Wiesbaden. I was supposed to meet Eric there that afternoon. We had a meeting scheduled for Friday morning and then we would both head back to Wiesbaden.

The need for this meeting had just come up two days prior. I didn’t think I’d be able to go because the trip to Hohenfels was supposed to stretch into Friday. It turned out that one of the people we were supposed to meet was not able to make it on Friday, so that meeting was rescheduled.

I asked the girl at the check in about Eric, but he had not arrived yet. I was running a little later than I expected, and I thought that he would arrive before me.
I went up to my room and put my things away. I tried to call him but he did not answer.

I had never seen Amberg during the day, so I decided to take a walk around the city. The hotel was a couple hundred meters outside of the walled part of the city. I grabbed my umbrella and headed out of the hotel to the left, toward the town center.

The streets inside of the walled part of town are very narrow, and the sidewalks are narrow as well. There is automobile traffic in the town, but thankfully not too much. When walking along these roads, you are constantly stopping or ducking into little alcoves to let cars pass. The town also has a small stream that flows through the middle, effectively bisecting the city.

The rain picked up a little bit. I stopped at a few store windows to see if there was anything interesting inside, and for the most part there wasn’t. There are quite a few bookstores in this little town, but I was not in the mood for that. I knew that there were a few breweries in this town because I had been to three of them over the past couple of trips I’ve made here. I was trying to orient myself to where they were and to see if any of them had interesting items on their posted menus. Every restaurant in Germany has the menu posted outside, complete with prices.

I must have been on the wrong side of town because I couldn’t seem to find the brewery that I was really looking for (the Brauerei Bruckmüller). The rain was coming down in a steady drizzle. Nothing too strong, but it was steady, and constant. I was thinking about walking to the other side of the town and looking for the Bruckmüller, but was getting a little wet and was feeling a little tired as a result of rising at 04:00 that morning. So I turned down a street and was proceeding back toward the hotel.

When I came out of a side street into the center square of the town I saw a couple of booths with farmers that were selling produce. A lot of towns in Europe have these types of markets downtown. Usually near the town hall and the main church, which are pretty much nalways collocated. There was also quite a few empty beer cases of various colors stacked by a mobile drink stand. The beer cases formed a sort of temporary wall about 3 or 4 cases high. The wall was about 15-20 meters long but did not enclosing anything. The different colored cases were from different breweries (6 in all). The wall had a few small wooden or plastic barrels, with no markings, sitting on top of it.

I walked over to the booth and saw a couple of people with some very dark beers. I ordered one for myself, and paid the man 2 Euros for it. As I was drinking it I noticed a couple of tables that were set up behind the booth. The tables had (very wet) brochures, coasters, and bottles on display. There was a display for each of the 6 breweries, some with several very nice and old bottles; however, it didn’t seem like anything of these were for sale.

There were not too many people around, and I guessed that it must just be part of the farmer’s market that they setup here on Fridays. It is not at all uncommon to see beer or wine booths at a farmers’ market. I began to hear what sounded like a fife and drum band from somewhere around the corner.

Then, sure enough, a bunch of folks dressed in strange looking band uniforms began to come into view from around the side of the building. There were women playing the fifes, and behind them were men playing the drums. The band was followed by a few women in medieval garb, and men with helmets and long pikes. The whole crew marched out into the city square and turned to face us from the other side of the wall of beer cases.

There was a photographer and a reporter there also. When the band was finished playing some gentleman stood out front with a microphone, and made some type of proclamation. I imagine he was the mayor or some sort of dignitary. Being that this was all in German, aside from what I am describing to you, I was clueless as to what was going on. When the gentleman was finished with whatever it was that he was proclaiming, they tapped one of the barrels. A few other, official looking, people came over and drew off beers.

I asked someone who was standing near me what was going on. He said it was part of the 975th anniversary of the town of Amberg, which was being celebrated later this year. Then I looked over at the wall again and everyone who was involved in the tapping of the barrel was gone. I saw other people, whom I recognized from being in the crowd with me, tapping beers off of the keg.

Well … I was almost finished my beer … so I inched my way over to the barrel … and tapped myself a beer. The crowd was polite, and there was no pushing or shoving. When that first barrel was empty, someone came out and tapped the next one.

Each colored section of this wall of beer cases was made up of cases from an individual brewery … and on top of each section sat a barrel that from that individual brewery … six in all … and they were going to tap every barrel one at a time … and they were giving this beer away for free … and did I ever tell you how much I like living in Germany?

I called Eric, but he was stuck in traffic (poor bastard).
After I tapped a beer from another barrel, the reporter asked me a question (in German).

“Ich spreche nicht Deutsch”, I replied.

“Oh, then I shall ask you in English” he said, “How do you like the beer?”

“Very much” I replied, “I’m really enjoying this, thank you.”

I don’t know if I made it to air, but I did really enjoy that beer. I believe that it was from the Brauerei Bruckmüller. After another free beer I went back to the hotel, ate at the restaurant there, and went upstairs to bed. Eric called when I was in the restaurant, and I wished him luck, but told him that I was not going back out. He went by the town square, but everything had broken up by that point.

Where have I been?

Well, I’d like to tell you the story about how I have been busy visiting exotic lands and having fantastic experiences that most people could only dream of… but the truth is I’ve pretty much been a slacker when it comes to posting. I haven’t taken many pictures in the last couple of weeks, and just generally haven’t been “feeling it” when it comes to this thing.

Spring has sprung in the Rheingau, and the weather today (Sunday) was beautiful. I didn’t exactly get to enjoy it because I have been cleaning up after a party. A friend is heading back to the States on Friday, so we threw him a going away party at my place. The day started out bleak. I started the coals in the smoker early. Went back inside to trim the brisket…

and put the rub on the pork and turkey leg…

That should be enough meat right?

It was raining when I put the meat in the smoker at about 9:30 AM.

About 13:30 I pulled off the turkey and pork. I left the brisket I the smoker until about 16:30. The weather did not really clear up, but it did stop raining.

All of the meat was gone within an hour and a half, and I believe that a good time was had by everyone present. I counted a minimum of 30 adults there at one point. I had swept out the garage and we placed the tables inside there in case it started raining again. When the last people left, this is what I had to look forward to…

I went upstairs, poured myself a wee dram of whiskey, turned on the television, sat down on the couch, and was sound asleep within 10 minutes.

This morning I started cleaning up about 9:30, and finally finished around 16:00. The party was a lot of fun, and the cleaning was not too bad. I took my time, and stopped and made a simple cheese omelet for lunch. I put some leftover salsa on the omelet, buttered a roll, and poured myself a nice Belgian Kriek Lambic.

I just wish there was some leftover meat for me today instead of just brownies and rice crispy treats.

Friday after work I decide to go to the PX and buy a cooler and some ice for the party. After purchasing the cooler and placing it in the car, I get in to go to another store for ice; however, my car won’t start. No clicking, no grinding, no sputtering, nothing.

Earlier in the day I was trying to give someone at work the number to a taxi service I use, and I realized that I must have left my cell phone at home. I checked all my pockets and the bags that I had brought with me. I could see it, in my mind, on the table by the doorway right where I always leave it (so I won’t forget it in the morning). So now I can’t call anyone to give me a ride home. Not only do I not have a phone, but I don’t now anyone’s phone number. So I go to the front gate and have the guards call a taxi for me. Forty euros later and I’m home. I am tempted to stay there, but I need to get the cooler and some ice for tomorrow’s party.

On my way back out the door I notice that my cell phone is not on the table. You know, where I always leave it so I don’t forget it in the morning. So I wander around the house cussing to myself about where the phone could be. When I finally decide that it is not here, I get into my truck and head back to where I left the car. I don’t even try to jump start the car, because I need to leave one here anyway. I open the rear door and take the cooler out and throw it into the back of my truck. I am just going to make sure the car is locked up, and then will leave it there. As I am locking the front door I see something on the little shelf between the seats…

You guessed it… it was my cell phone. It was in the car all along. I probably should have been upset, but all I could do was laugh.

A couple of weeks ago I was in Mons, Belgium for work. It was nice for approximately one of the four days we were there.

It was just gray and drizzling a lot of the time. The last day there, we ate a nice French restaurant. I had the chefs menu #1 but substituted sweetbreads for the fish. Sweetbreads are one of two glands from a veal calf. One is the thymus gland and the other one is the pancreas. They are both referred to as just sweetbreads, and are cooked exactly in the same manner. I think we may have had the pancreas, but I cannot be sure. What I can be sure of is that it was very good. They have a somewhat mild flavor but are very rich at the same time. I was expecting the texture to be creamy (like the brains), but it was not at all like that. They were not quite chewy or meaty, but did had a nice feel to them. I highly recommend them if you ever get the chance.

Nothing to say...

... but I did put up some more pictures of our trips to Oberammergau and Munich.

Go check them out HERE.

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.

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.

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.

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.