American Cooking 101

3. Mai 2011

My “Russian” friends plus Elise, Lara’s good friend and one of the 11th graders I know from the dance group at school and the ski trip joined me for dinner and English movie night. In true N* fashion, I planned far too many things to do and through a well-honed combination of over-procrastination and under-estimation, my apartment was clean, but the cooking portion of the evening was left egregiously lacking in doneness by the time Lara, Ben and Elise arrived. In fact, of the three things to be made, none were finished. The doorbell rang just as I poured the quark layer over top of the chocolate dough for the Russische Zupfkuche (literally: Russian pluck cake) I was baking.

“Dinner’s not ready, but I’m baking a cake,” I told my friends as we walked up the stairs. They “ah’d” appreciatively at the prospect of cake and appeared to be more concerned with the art in the stairwell than with the fact that it was 6:30 P.M., and they had a delinquent cook on their hands. Granted the art in the stairwell is quite…startling (It’s not mine, lol!), but more on that at a later date.

Once in my apartment, they politely offered to help, and as much cutting was required, everyone had plenty to do while I finished making the remaining cake batter into flat, pulled-off pieces over the top of the cake. Much like me at that age, my students don’t have so much experience in the kitchen, but they are fast learners. The kitchen was a friendly bustle of chatter in English and German.

“What can I do next?” Elise asked, as I pulled a bunch of green onions from the fridge.

“Green onions,” I replied.

“What?”

“Um…these…I can’t remember the word in German.”

“Das ist doch Lauch, wahr?” interjected Ben. (That’s green onions, right?)

“Was ist dann Schnittlauch?“ said Elise. (What’s chives then?)

“Wann es geschnitten ist,“ replied Ben (When it’s cut.)  (I love this story...and included it because when I was looking through a German cookbook I was given as a birthday present, I thought the same thing at first!)

“Nee, stimmt gar nicht. Der ist dünner,“ Lara cut in. (That’s not true. Chives are thinner.)

“Ach sooooo, das stimmt,“ conceded Ben. (Ohhhhh, that’s right.)

“You mean chives?” I guessed.

“Was denn? Chi…was?” Three puzzled faces looked over at me.

“They’re skinny and green.”

“What means skinny in English?” was the next question.

“Thin. Not fat,” I suggested.

“Ach so,” said Lara, who promptly got her list and made a quick note. Being me, I happened to have a bag of dried chives in the cupboard.

“These things?” I inquired.

“Yes,” said answered Elise decisively, as she held onto one end of the bunch of green onions, “but which part of the Lauch do we eat?”

After successfully identifying and cutting up the Lauch (and the three of them crying from a combination of hysterical laughter and green onion fumes – who knew they could be potent enough to draw tears?), we were ready to make salad dressing and mix the seasoning for the oven fries. This was an experience in itself because none of them had ever seen American measuring cups and spoons.

Finally the cake came out of the oven, smelling of cocoa, the fries were put in to bake in its place, and the four of us crowded around my laptop with plates of tortellini salad to watch “Singing in the Rain” in English. I have seen the movie enough times that I can practically quote it, and it was even more fun than usual to be able to watch my companion’s reactions. “…but you have to talk into the mike first. In the bush!” and the song, “Moses Supposes,” were particular favorites.

The perfect cake

The fries were also a hit, as was the cake with its perfectly creamy quark sinking delectably into the moist chocolate layer which had a slightly crunchy crust – something that I find to be the pinnacle of cakey perfection. Surprisingly, the three different dishes, not normally served together mad ea satisfying trifecta. Lara even made the tortellini salad again with her family.

I only hope that Lara, Ben and Elise had as much fun as I did and that they didn’t mind the cooking lesson. I so much prefer cooking with people, and there’s something magical about sharing a meal that connects us to each other in a different, but just as vital way as our verbal interactions.

Deine,
N*

P.S.  My German friends are FANTASTIC!

Russian in Germany

19. März 2011

Over the past few months, I have been trying to learn Russian (with varying degrees of diligence). I sit in a 9th grade class a couple times a week, meet with a Russian teacher and a GT student after school and meet with two Russian students for Russian-English conversation hour on Fridays. Despite this, I often find it difficult to stay motivated without actually having a consistent class at my level. Not to mention that I’m learning in German. Oy. I have made a decent amount of progress, though, and it’s fun. I love the way the language sounds, although my pronunciation is terrible. At least the grammar makes sense to me.



Check it out!



I anticipated that my learning curve might be steeper than with previous languages I’ve learned because first I

had to learn to read and write Cyrillic (and of course, cursive and print are fairly different, just to make it more confusing), so I’ll just keep trying. If nothing else, I can speak (very) simply and I learned to read and write, which is an accomplishment in itself! Also, I find myself being able to pick the limited words I know out of conversations in Slavic languages while I’m traveling…cool!

What I really want to talk about here, though, are the relationships that I’ve gained in my attempted to learn Russian in Germany.

First, there’s my Russian teacher, Frau Doktor T (Don’t you love the German titles?). She has so much passion for the Russian language, and I actually thought she was Russian for a while. It turns out her Mom did a Russian radio show during DDR times, so she grew up with the language. She’s been really helpful in the learning process and is now a friend in the teacher room. There are around 100 teachers at my school, and I really only have a relationship with a few because people are in and out so much, so making a new friend was definitely positive. Plus, she’s really full of life and fascinating to talk to. We speak German together, and she tries out the English phrases she knows sometimes, too.

I’ve also gotten to know “der kleine Kostya,” the GT student learning Russian. I actually knew him from my time at T’s (my former host mom) school during my previous visits to Germany, so it’s funny we’ve been brought together again. He’s very shy, but lately we walk together to the train station after Russian lessons, as he goes that way to walk home. He talks and I talk – mostly in German – and it’s interesting to hear what he has to say. Sometimes you can tell that there’s so much going on in his head at once that he can’t express it all quickly enough. You can almost see wheels spinning and gears whirring – adorable. His Mom has even said that he can’t read before bed because he starts thinking about so many things that it’s impossible for him to sleep afterwards.

Perhaps some of my favorite people are my Russian-English speaking partners, Lara and Ben. They’re 9th graders, but in the U.S. you’d never believe it because they’re so smart and mature. Lara always comes to our sessions armed with a notebook to write down any words we talk about that she doesn’t know. Smart really since she and Ben are two of the 16 students from our school who will participate in the month-long exchange program in Texas this fall. Since I know them primarily from outside the classroom setting (Lara is also in the dance group I teach in at school), I’ve really gotten to know them on a much more personal level, and I think we’ve all been able to benefit from the exchange. They’ve taught me about a myriad of things in Germany from Bleigießen (lead figures that are melted over a candle on a spoon and then dropped into cold water before their shape is “read” to show what is the come in the new year) to how to tell someone their zipper is unzipped in German (valuable information, I tell you…if someone tells me that, I need to know!) to everything under the sun about the German school system to when you should (and shouldn’t) ring your bike bell. Not to mention that they’ve helped me feel truly integrated in both the school and the culture. I only hope that I’ve been able to share as much of my culture with them as they have their culture with me.



Making guac



One night they came over and we made burritos and guacamole. They’d never had guacamole before (gasp!), and we had a lot of fun mashing the avocados. In true Chipotle fashion, I helped them learn how to roll a burrito and they really managed it quite well. I was pretty sure that they enjoyed their first foray into the realm of Mexican food, and sure enough a couple of weeks later, they told me that they made burritos with their families one weekend. That really made my day.

Who would’ve thought that such fantastic relationships would come out of learning Russian in Germany? My life here is full of wonderful people, and I am so thankful for their warmness and acceptance.



Rolling like a pro...note the pinky!



Deine,

N* 



Beautiful flowers they brought me



 

In Which I Experience a Small Flood

11. März 2011

When I wrote about my students a while back, I mentioned Lena, one of my 9th graders. Since I’ve met her, she has continued writing e-mails to me, working hard in English and generally being interested in the U.S. She’s actually going to be able to go to the U.S. with our school’s month-long exchange program to Texas in the fall. She was a bit unsure about going at first, but when a spot opened up, she really took the initiative, so I’m incredibly proud of her.

One day we ended up talking about food, and she told me about “Grießbrei”, which they often eat for dessert in her family. Of course with my dessert project in full swing, I wanted to know how to make it. Well, Lena went home, asked her Mom about the recipe and sent me an e-mail with instructions, but then suggested we make it together sometime. And that’s how I ended up inviting her over to cook it and watch a movie with me.

Of course, the day before this, I became obsessed with the idea of Eierschecke – a three-layer cake typically found in Saxony, and especially in the city of Dresden, and decided to give it a go. However, round one was not to be because the yeast dough recipe I had ended up being faulty; I tried it twice with horrendous, rock-like results. After further research, I decided to try out a more cake-like bottom layer the next day. This was more successful, but ended up seeming a bit like my snicker doodle cookie dough, but I went ahead and greased the pan anyways. The dough looked like it might not stretch enough to fill the whole baking dish, so I decided to use only part of it and proceeded to fashion a wall out of tin foil. Don’t ask. It seemed like a good idea at the time.


Quark filling...and the wall!





 About an hour and a half before Lena was set to arrive, I was busy mixing the thick, quark filling. Quark is sort of like a mix between yogurt and cream cheese, so this filling could be compared in a way with American cheesecake. The result when it is cooked is a bit more fluid and slightly stickier, yet it somehow retains a fairly firm taste and texture. Finally I began composing the custard top, complete with separating egg yolks and egg whites. Whipping the egg whites was certainly an adventure, as I didn’t anticipate just how much they’d expand and it was necessary to transfer them to a larger bowl partway through. All in all, I felt proud of my egg-related efforts for the afternoon.

Just as I finished cooling the custard made from the egg yolks and whipping the egg whites, Lena called me. Through some miscommunication (on my part) about directions (because somehow I apparently still can’t adequately describe where I live), her Dad had brought her to the wrong house, but eventually she arrived with a box of chocolates, the Grieß and a glass jar of cherries we would later heat for the topping. I warned her about the highly experimental nature of my cake, and went about mixing the top layer. As I was pouring the egg custard over the top, I could see that there wasn’t really room for it. Just as I was sincerely regretting not rolling the bottom layer out to cover the entire pan, a flood of egg custard broke the aluminum dam and flowed as though molten across the open third of the pan.


The Grießbrei

 “That’s not supposed to happen, is it?” remarked Lena in her slightly Germanized and completely adorable British accent. Of course I replied in the negative, but decided to put the cake in the oven regardless.

In the meantime, Lena and I started in on making the Grießbrei. She told me that her Mom makes it so often that she doesn’t even have to measure the Grieß, which looked a bit like sand, anymore. While we put the cherries on to heat, we guesstimated the proper amount and cooked it. The result can best be compared to Southern grits, I think, but we’d put in a bit too much Grieß, so our version turned into large cakes of grainy stuff, much like polenta, as it cooled. It was still tasty, though.


Finished in the oven!





By then the cake was done, and by some miracle, none of it was burnt, despite the lack of uniformity in the composition. While waiting for the cake to cool, Lena and I watched The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants in English – a movie based on one of my most-read series of books and which also had a good level of English for Lena. I think she enjoyed it, and afterwards we also enjoyed the cake, which turned out to be perfectly moist and delectable, even if the aesthetic was a little unusual. I had to transfer part of the top layer so it was allocated properly across the cake.



Masterpiece

 All in all, I’d deem it a success…the cake and the evening. I’m consistently impressed with my students’ abilities in English, and the chance to interact bears innumerable opportunities for intercultural exchange. Unfortunately having my students over also means they are prone to be exposed to some of my crazy cooking/crafting ideas that are constantly underfoot in my apartment, but hey, life’s not fun without a little crazy!

Bis bald!

Deine,
N*

P.S.  If you'd like to try out the Eierschecke recipe...I used this one for the dough and this one for the top two layers, minus the lemon zest and raisins.  The only problem might be getting quark in the U.S., but I've been told that some World Markets actually carry it.

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*