A Ten Year Anniversary

Ten years ago on this very day, my husband and I got on a plane and moved back home. We had just spent the past three years living in Germany and traveling through Europe and now it was time to say goodbye.

At the time I was elated. I went through somewhat of a depression during this time. I was severely homesick and found it difficult to fully embrace the experience of living abroad.

I loved the travel though. Visiting so many different countries over the course of three years helped to open my eyes to the fact that I had been closed off to so many different ideas and learning experiences from living in my American bubble. It is why Wanderlust is a part of the theme of this blog. Because even though I wish I hadn't gone through that difficulty of being depressed and homesick, I also know that I would be a completely different person if I hadn't been granted the amazing opportunity of living and traveling in Europe. 

The world is such a beautiful and complex place. I seek the wisdom and opportunity to be able to see new places and learn from new people in order to understand it better. 

Ten years seems like such a long time ago. And also like no time at all.

My favorite street food in Germany - and it's not bratwurst

If you ever visit Germany, you will most likely come across these curious little food stands called Döner Kebap. If you don't know what they are, you might be tempted to just pass them by and never give them a second thought. But I'm here to tell you, do all you can to find the time to try one.

What is a Döner Kebap? It's only the most glorious sandwich ever to grace this planet.

The largest ethnic minority in Germany are people of Turkish origin and one of the things they have imported from Turkey is this amazing sandwich (so I guess if you're in Turkey, you should seek one out too :p). As an American, I find myself comparing a Döner to a Greek gyro because of how ubiquitous the gyro is in our culture and also the fact that the meat is roasted on a vertical spit just like the gyro. But, no offense to the Greeks because I like gyros just fine, but a Döner is infinitely better.

Just what makes it better? Well, there are a few things that help catapult this sandwich into the stratosphere of ethnic street food. First of all, let's start with the bread. A Greek gyro is typically served with warm pita bread that you fold the meat into like a taco. A Döner, however, has this special bread that is crispy on the outside and pillowy on the inside that they grill very briefly on a panini maker to help warm it and create grill marks. They then cut into the bread to make a pocket so the meat and toppings go inside the sandwich rather than folded into it. The crispiness of the outside and warm, chewiness of the inside is such a lovely contrast of textures.

Secondly, there is the meat. I haven't investigated exactly what meat goes into a gyro (unless it's a chicken gyro) or a Döner, nor do I think I want to. I fear if I learn exactly what goes onto that spit, I might not want to eat it anymore. No matter, the way the meat is handled once it is taken off the spit is what makes these sandwiches so different. Gyro meat is either served in chunks or in long, thin ribbons (at least that's the way they're served at the Greek coney island diners in Michigan) whereas Döner meat is shaved off the spit into really small pieces that are crispy and full of fatty flavor. Every piece of meat in the sandwich has a bit of chew and a bit of crisp to it, just like the bread.

It's like I can hear a choir of angels when I see one of these

Another difference is that some Döner places serve their sandwiches with salty rectangles of feta (or what I assume is feta) and gyros are cheese-less (at least all the gyros I've ever had anyway). If you know me at all, you know that the addition of cheese to anything is a good addition.

Once you get past those major differences, the sandwiches are similar from there. They are both served with toppings like onions and tomatoes, and they both get doused in a yogurt sauce.

I highly recommend if you've never tried one of these sandwiches and you find yourself in a German-speaking country (or Turkey for that matter) to seek one out.

Believe it or not, one of the main reasons (though not the only reason) why I wanted to visit our old hometown in Germany was to eat a Döner at the stand where we used to get them when we lived there. I don't know if it was just because that was our regular place, but it had, by far, the best Döner in all of Germany.

Which is why I was devastated on the day of our arrival in Schweinfurt to be walking toward our Mecca of street food, only to discover that our Döner stand had been replaced by an Asian noodle place!

Ninjas like noodles, but not at the expense of a Döner!

We searched downtown high and low for a new Döner place, and it wasn't until after we gave up and had already eaten somewhere else that we came across this oasis:

All is right with the world. Ninja found a new Döner place!

Never fear! We still had one more day in Schweinfurt. We'd just eat there for lunch the next day.

Though the Döner wasn't quite as good as our regular place (I'm convinced, however, that part of this was psychological), it still hit the spot and was a great way to end our time in Schweinfurt.

Pardon me while I inhale this sandwich

I'm humming tunes from Avenue Q as I write this

Germans have a word that does not directly translate to English, but has crossed over into our language because it's just such a wonderfully descriptive word: Schadenfreude. If you've never heard of this word before, basically it means happiness at the misfortune of others.

There was a bit of Schadenfreude going on during the Czech Republic portion of my trip to Europe.

Let me explain.

One of the things we wanted to do while we were in Cesky Krumlov was rent a canoe since the river snakes around the city. We thought it would be a perfect way to get the lay of the land and to see great views of the city.

When we arrived at the canoe rental, which just happened to be in the same building as our hotel, the lady working the desk showed us a picture of where to drop of the canoe/raft further downriver and informed of us of two places where we needed to be on alert because there were rapids and we needed to travel through a weir in order to pass through safely. Both weirs had rapids, but we were assured that they were mild, but said that we needed to make sure we hung onto or things tightly if the boat tipped over because the current would surely carry it away.

This worried me a little bit but my husband assured me we would be fine. After getting through the first set of rapids without any incident I was feeling confident and seemed to relax. I was taking pictures and just enjoying the lovely view of Cesky Krumlov from our canoe:

But then this would be the last picture our little point-and-shoot camera would take because right after I took this picture, disaster struck:

As we approached the bottom of the second weir and the rapids were more aggressive than the first, our entire boat tipped over and we were in the water. Thankfully the water wasn't deep, but the shallowness of the water caused me to scratch up my leg on some rocks and also caused one of my oars and a shoe to go floating down the river.

At this point we had a whole chorus of Czechs along the side of the river just laughing hysterically at our expense, which was bad enough on its own, but I was freaking out as I thought for sure I'd never see my shoe again - and it was the only pair of comfortable walking shoes I had with me.

Thankfully, between chortles, we had a family with a baby (who managed to get through the rapids without losing their first born) pull off to the side and grab our oar for us so at least we wouldn't have to pay for losing that. And that was all well and good, but I was most worried about my shoe, as I was thinking I would have to walk the streets of Cesky Krumlov with only one shoe. By some miracle, some old man, who looked as old as the river itself and who was wearing swimshorts so short that they were almost speedos, was standing on the side of the river, holding up my shoe. I might have hugged him if I hadn't been so worried I'd lose something else out of the boat.

While we were lucky that our oar and my shoe were returned to us, something else did not survive our "incident" and that was our camera. We didn't lose the camera, it was in my pants pocket, but the water destroyed any chances of it ever working again. We were lucky that the SD card still worked so we were able to rescue the pictures on it, but the camera itself is kaput. Thankfully we had also had a digital SLR with us on our trip (not in the canoe thankfully) so it's not like we didn't have a camera for the rest of the trip, but it was such a bummer since our little Canon Powershot is what we'd take with us when we were going places where we didn't want to carry a huge camera with us.

The next day as we were exploring the castle grounds above the town, I found myself looking down at the place in the river where my husband and I bit the big one, and hoping the people going through the weir would tip over like we did, just so I didn't feel like the only idiot in town who couldn't remain upright in a canoe.

Darn! That one made it.

But it didn't take long standing there for us to come across this pair of guys

OK, now I don't feel like such an idiot. Except now I'm a terrible person because I was happy that these guys tipped over. Total and complete Schadenfreude. Does that make me a bad person? Maybe, but it also makes me human.

P.S. if you don't understand what the title has to do with my actual post, Google the track list for the musical Avenue Q and you'll understand. (Warning: If you don't already know, the songs in Avenue Q have a great amount of obscenities so don't listen to any of the songs at work or around little children.)

What have been your Schadenfreude moments?

My love affair with Austrian desserts

If I asked you to picture delicious European desserts in your mind, most of you would probably start imagining some sort of mouthwatering French concoction: macaroons, crepes, Creme Brulee, etc.

However, there is a country in Europe that often gets overlooked when it comes to dessert, but is right up there in terms of decadence and deliciousness: Austria.

This is the country that gave us the the Sacher Torte, the Linzer Torte, strudel, and a whole host of other delicious pastries.

While I was in Austria, I devoured two very popular desserts: the Sacher Torte and Salzburger Nockerl.

Now I'm sure most of you have heard of Sacher Torte. It's the chocolate cake made famous by the Hotel Sacher in Vienna and whose recipe is a closely guarded secret. Many people have tried to imitate the Sacher Torte, but if you want the real thing, you must go to the Hotel Sacher in Vienna or Salzburg.

Well it just so happens that I was in Salzburg on my most recent trip to Europe and as you can see, an authentic slice of Sacher Torte was a necessary diversion in our sight-seeing schedule.

Now, as a rule, Austrian desserts are not as sweet as American desserts so when you look at the decadence of the Sacher Torte, just know that your taste buds are not going to be overwhelmed by sweetness. A Sacher Torte is a bittersweet chocolate cake with a thin layer of apricot jam in the middle. It is traditionally served with a generous dollop of unsweetened whipped cream on the side, some say to counter-balance the somewhat dry nature of the cake.

Now I am not a huge fan of chocolate, but even I will go out of my way to sit down and have a piece of this cake when I am in Vienna or Salzburg. Just make sure if you're ever in one of these two places that you have the ORIGINAL Sacher Torte and not an imitation.

Even Ninjas like Sacher Torte...

...And can make it quickly disappear

 The second dessert I inhaled while in Austria is not as well known as Sacher Torte, and is much more simple, but it is equally delicious: Salzburger Nockerl.

What is Salzburger Nockerl you ask? Well basically, it is a giant meringue that is cooked in the oven with a layer of fresh raspberries or fruit preserves like lingonberry jam. The Salzburger Nockerl my husband and I had at the Goldene Ente restaurant had fresh raspberries on the bottom. At first, Americans might balk at such a dessert because the sugar content is very minimal. In fact, as someone who often prefers salty foods to sweet, I kind of thought that the Nockerl needed a bit more sugar.

But as I think back on it, I think that more sugar would have perhaps masked some of the other exciting sensations happening inside my mouth while eating this dessert. The outside was crispy and golden brown and the inside was like eating a cloud. Then you have the tartness of the berries to add another layered dimension to the dish. Even though I kind of balked at the dessert while I was eating it, proclaiming the need for more sweetness, now that I look back on it, I can still feel the divine experience of  letting that light, fluffy meringue melt in my mouth and now I want to go in my kitchen and start whisking some egg whites.

To try your hand at making these desserts yourself, here are a couple recipes to give it a go:

Salzburger Nockerl: Epicurious
Sacher Torte: Wolfgang Puck

Wishing for a European Christmas

My TiVo recorded a suggested show this morning on European Christmas markets. So I promptly sat down and watched the whole thing - even though the family's coming over tonight and I have cooking to do . It's funny that I long to be in Europe at this time of year considering how much I longed to be home when I actually lived there. The grass is always greener syndrome I guess.

What makes me love Europe this time of year, Germany in particular, is how Christmas is still done Old School for the most part. It's not about the STUFF: how much you have and how much more you can get. It's about a feeling, an atmosphere. The Christmas market is the perfect example of this atmosphere. Parked in the middle of historic town squares, Christmas markets are akin to being shrunken down and walking around one of those little Christmas villages you put under your tree. And even though the air is cold, you feel warm sipping from a mug of steaming Glühwein. I wish I could be there right now.