Experiments

Sometimes I get an idea in my head that I just can’t stop thinking about. For months “Milchreis” has been haunting my supermarket visits and dancing tantalizingly before my outstretched fingertips. Finally after Christmas break in the U.S., I decided that I was going to try it. Countless times, I had returned the pre-made variety to the shelf, rejected, after careful perusal of the ingredient list, so it appeared that actually tasting the concoction would be preceded by preparing it myself. This prospect appealed to me much more, regardless of the aforementioned superfluous ingredients, I mused, as I finally gathered the needed items into my shopping cart.
Milk, the “Milchreis” rice (white rice), sugar, cinnamon. Straightforward enough. I even sprung for organic milk because at .69 Eurocents a liter, it certainly wasn’t going to break the bank. On my way home, mini-trampoline in tow (but that’s another story), I ran into one of my colleagues, who, while unabashed by the trampoline, seemed taken with the idea that I might like “Milchreis” and she hadn’t known about it. After counseling me to make sure I ate it with cinnamon and melted butter drizzled over the top the way her mom always made it and giving me a much-appreciated rundown on the exact meaning of certain vocabulary in the cooking instructions, she sent me on my way.

The "Milchreis"



Once I had thumped my way clumsily up the stairs with my ingredients and my trampoline, I relaxed into the warmth of my apartment and set the stage. One pan, a whisk (Schneebesen or “snow broom” in German!), measuring cups and a metric-English calculator later I was well underway. The process was simple enough, as “Milchreis” is in effect rice boiled in milk instead of water. The concoction was tasty, but it was a little sticky and took some adapting to. Paired with cinnamon and a little extra sugar I found it to be a comforting and satisfying treat.



Rice Pudding hot from the oven

 While talking with my Mom a few days later, she asked me if it was similar to rice pudding, fondly called “figgy pudding” in our house, which was a childhood favorite of mine. To be honest, it had been about 15 years since I’d had rice pudding, so I set out to make it, little knowing what an undertaking it would be. The recipe required baking the pudding in a glass baking dish immersed in a water bath.



Ready to eat!

 After visiting the neighbors, I procured the missing baking implements and mixed the custard while the rice finished cooking. Then I put it all together and stuck it in the oven. Luckily I had enough raisins left; even though I had bought them FOR the pudding, I had been eating them like it was my job. The result was completely different from the “Milchreis” since the eggs in the pudding make the filling custardy, but it was as delectable as I remembered.

I guess I got a bit spoiled because after both desserts were gone I felt like there was a dessert-shaped hole in my stomach that only homemade baked goods could fill, and that’s when it struck me. Even if I pass up cultural experiences due to my preference to not eat meat, German dessert is one category that leaves my options wide open. I don’t just want to eat it, though. I want to make it myself – to fully engage in the process and have a piece of German experience that surely no one in the U.S. will object to my sharing with them. So that’s my new goal: to cook, eat and share as many German desserts as I can over the next months. I’ve already invested in a new glass baking dish and a cake pan that’s like a deep cookie sheet, so let’s go!

Ideas about what I should bake?  Please enable me.

Deine,

N*

Undeniably American

Some days I am painfully aware of my American-ness, and I can see just where the Europeans find humor (and occasionally frustration, I’m sure) at my behalf. One such occasion ensued as Erin and I flew back from Lisbon and landed in the Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. The transcript of our conversation while approaching the airport would look something like this:
E: Oooooh! I hope we get to see the Eiffel Tower.

N: (looking around to see which side of the plane might have better viewing potential) The Eiffel Tower! Me too!

E: I mean, I know I’m coming here in June, but I don’t want to wait. I want to see it NOW!

N: Which direction are we approaching from? This airport is North of Paris…I think.

E: We’re supposed to be there in 30 minutes, but I guess we’re still a ways away.

(Proceeding to strain our necks looking out the window, undeterred by the previous revelation)

E: Is that Paris over there?

N: Maybe. Yes. No…wait…no, no definitely not. I mean, Paris must be bigger than that.

(Watching with bated breath)

E: There is that it? Well, maybe it’s too far.

N: Well, Paris is pretty far from the airport, so it could be…oh gosh…shhhh, if the French people hear us…

E: Yes, “American tourists”…

N: But we are…sort of…

E: We can claim Germany sort of…

N: (Looking around to see if anyone has noticed us having a conniption trying to see the tower) Eh, at least we have an excuse.

E: Hey! Is that it, that thing there?

N: Huh? What? Where? No. I think those are power lines.

E: Are you sure?

N: Yeah, I don’t think it’s tall enough…oh yeah, there’s more than one. Oops. That would be embarrassing if someone heard us.

E: Oh my gosh! What if we THINK we see the Eiffel Tower and get all excited about it, but it isn’t really it and the French people around us are all thinking, “Stupid American tourists”?

N: That’d be bad, but at least we’d think we thought we’d seen it.

E: But we really want to see it. Ok, we have to calm down so they won’t know what we’re doing.

N: Ok, ok, you’re right. (Talking a long breath in) Looky, looky! There! I think I see it – you know that thing we were talking about!

(If no one’s heard us already, they’ve surely heard us now.)

E: I don’t see it.

N: Well, I’m not sure – no, that’s it, I just saw where it splits. Look there…no further to the right…

E: I see it! It has to be, right? It’s soooooo tall.

E & N: Woooooooow!

(Mind you, we are effectively ogling what looks like a stick from the distance we are at.)

E: I really hope it’s right. How much time do we have here?

N: Two hours.

E: We should go on a bus to the city, just to see.

N: We almost have enough time.

E: We could do it…

N: But if what happened this morning happens, we’re stuck.

E: Yeah.

(Collective sigh. Meanwhile the plan lands.)

E: We saw the Eiffel Tower!!!

N: I know! Oh my gosh, we can’t get up. I’m sure everyone heard!

E: Well, they probably couldn’t see us.

(We look at each other and get up.)

N: (innocent face) We had nothing to do with it.

E: With what?

N: Exactly.

(We leave the plane.)

E & N: OMG! We saw the Eiffel Tower!

We did later determine that it was indeed the Eiffel Tower, and we also got a better view. Some days it pays to be a silly American! And dude, seriously…we saw the Eiffel Tower!

Deine,
N*

Go-Go German Gadget!

When I walk into a German house, I am often charmed by the “European” look of everything. If you’ve ever walked into an Ikea, you’ll know what I mean; there’s just a staunchly European feel to it – a perfect triad of minimalism, appropriately welcoming (and often bright) colors and a certain chicness that differs distinctly in feel from American modern deco. Even if the furnishings are vastly different from what I’d choose myself, I always feel at home in these houses. Though I’m at no means ready to abandon my traditional sense of style, there are parts of this lifestyle that I could definitely see incorporating into a house someday.

The way houses are built here is also different. Sometimes the walls here are incredibly thick (greater than 1 foot), which makes sense from an insulation point of view, since energy is more expensive here and there’s no air conditioning. Multi-family homes are also common, so different levels of the houses are often occupied by different families, or different generations of a family. The “attic” part inside an A-frame is sometimes a “rental apartment” (like the one where I live), so all possible living space is used. Even the houses are connected together in city areas, with a green space only behind them. Of course, there are many single houses, big and small, in addition to the connected homes and apartments, so just like in the U.S., living situations can vary greatly.

While we’re on the topic of German houses and lifestyle, the thing I am continually fascinated by are the interesting and useful “gadgets” that can be found in my apartment/are used frequently in Germany. Since I’ve finally gotten a new camera since the tragic camera accident of 2010, let me show you what I mean!

1. We’ll start in my apartment. Check out these windows…they swing in with the left or right side attached to the wall AND tilt in, so there's just an opening at the top. I love the flexible options, and it makes cleaning on the higher floors of houses so simple.  (I wanted to put a picture here, but you just couldn't capture it.  Use your imagination!)

2. My heating system is in the floor and on the walls. It’s run by water pumps, so whenever the heat kicks in, the floors click which really freaked me out the first time I heard it and didn’t know what it was. It’s easy to use and allows me to heat different rooms to different temperatures, plus my feet are always warm.

3. Trash cans are kind of confusing, but the green aspect of them makes it worth it. I have separate containers for compost, paper, packaging and trash, plus there’s a separate place for recycling glass (bins for each of three colors) in town. There’s also a place to return certain plastic drink containers (in many grocery stores), which scans them individually and gives you back the appropriate bottle deposit.

4. Speaking of grocery stores…in large stores produce that is priced by weight is weighed in the produce section, where you then choose the product type and print a sticker with the weight and price already on it. It’s great not to have to guess what I’ll actually have to pay, not to mention it’s especially convenient here where I deal with the metric system and the Euro.  




Someone has been snacking!



5. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a German with a lunch box. Since sandwiches are standard lunch fare, they

typically use boxes like these in varying sizes, as well as smaller ones for fruit, snacks, etc. Cute, convenient and durable, as well as eliminating the use of aluminum foil or saran wrap. I’m a fan. I do have to admit that I still keep my box inside a lunch box, though.



 
 

Erasing function in action

6. Now you see it…now you don’t. I’ve taken up the fountain pen – the writing instrument of choice for many Germans. I love the way the writing looks and the way the weight of my pen feels in my hand. As a lefty I’m usually not a fan of pens for several reasons, so that I love the fountain pen is saying a lot. Plus, I feel nostalgic for the days before computers when fountain pens were a widely used writing instrument when I use it. Of course the fountain pen itself is cool, so the fact that you can actually erase it is even better. My students all come to class armed with both fountain pens and the so-called “Tintenkillers” (literally “ink killers”), which have a white tip for erasing on one end and a blue tip for writing over the erased areas on the other. Who knew?

7. I think bread slicers exist in the U.S., but I’ve sure never had one, so I’m quite enamored by mine. The bread here is superb, too. I always visit a bakery instead of buying in the grocery store, and I have the luxury of buying bread by the loaf, so it’s always freshly sliced at home. My favorites are the Kurbiskornbrot (Pumpkinseed Bread) and Dreikornbrot (Three grain bread).



Check it out...air vent!

 8. My bathroom actually features two interesting items. The pull-down window has a special tab at the top that opens to allow the humidity from the shower out of the room without letting the air outside into the house. The glass shower stall is also complete with its own squeegee for clearing the inner walls after showering. The water here is extremely hard, so if you don’t have a scraper, you constantly have to scrub off the limey residue left behind by the drying water drops after even one shower.



...note the crack in the middle!



9. Right now I actually like the idea of individual duvets with easily washable covers, especially from the standpoint of convenience. My full bed is actually two mattresses in one bed frame, so each has its own sheets and blankets. I do miss top sheets, though. The duvet is really the only blanket aside form the bottom sheet, so there’s actually nothing attached at the bottom of the bed! I was a little disappointed not to be able to sleep in the whole big bed, though…the crack in the middle sort of puts a damper in that!

Well, I think those are the most notable gadgets I can think of at the moment. Hope you’ve enjoyed them; I know I do! If you’ve ever found things like this during you’re time abroad, I’d be interested to hear about them!

Deine,

N*