GERMANOFILE

The first time I saw this what I can only call ‘thing’, close to Checkpoint Charlie, it was loaded with Irish ‘lads’ singing “Ole, Ole, Ole … we’re all part of Jackie’s army”. They were pedaling more slowly than they were drinking. I turned to see where the noise was coming from, stared, shook my head, and moved away slowly. 

When you ascend from the Untergrund Bahn station of Wittenbergplatz your view is obscured by an imposing grey building with the KaDeWe logotype brightly lit against the gloomy Berlin sky.

KaDeWe’s backlit logo stands serves as more than just a waypointer, it stands for KaDeWe’s whole philosophy.

KaDeWe stands for Kaufhaus Des Westens, the shopping center of the west. It is a veritable house of plenty and was designed to inspire shock and awe in the eyes and minds of, not only tourists to Germany, but any East-German Communist that may have strayed west of Checkpoint Charlie.

The glittering jewel to this crown of democracy is the 6th floor, a city block dedicated to edible delicacies from around the world. Escalators rise up into the hall of chocolate within which, currently, is a giant Liberty Bell comprised of chocolate. You can easily lose an hour or two shuffling through the aisles, smiling at some of the choices and sighing at others.

This isn’t Fairways folks: there’s no salad leaves on the floor or dangerous old ladies with their elbows of steel peering up from their trolleys. KaDeWe features only hand carts. You’re not stocking up here, you’re picking up your favorite Maldon’s sea salt from Essex, your smoked eel from Ireland, your bread and cakes from Lenôtré in Paris, your weißwurst (veal sausage), sußersenf (sweet mustard) and bretzels (pretzels) from Bavaria.

Scattered around the floor are small bars where you can order from a menu based on whatever area you happen to be in: fruit juices in the fruit section, a champagne bar or a beer bar in the off license section, lobsters, cheeses…you get the picture.

The best thing about this, dear fellow Germanofiles, is that KaDeWe is on the way home and there’s a direct elevator to the sixth floor. One can get very adept at navigating the confusing floor plan quite quickly.

Dear Germany,

One of the points of moving to Germany was to improve the “work-life ratio”. Sold by stories of Germans having months of vacation, wonderful long lunch breaks, and sunny, bright evenings in the park. I’m still waiting for it to kick in.

What I misunderestimated was just how wrong I’d be. If you work with Europe as well as the East and West coasts of the US, the Central European Time zone is a harsh master. The mornings can be light, with few calls and email chains sprouting, but once the East coast kicks in things start to warm up. Once the West coast kicks in, you can kiss your idea of a cold bier in the biergarten goodbye until at least 10pm.

Quality time with your daughter? I don’t think so.

I’m working similar hours than I was in New York however the considered opinion is that EST is the definitely the kinder time zone to work in.

Disappointedly,
Germanofile

Dear Germanofiles,

Spargel is a form of asparagus. Ordinarily green, this asparagus has been subject to a kind of horticultural abomination: instead of letting the plant grow German farmers heap soil on the growing plants, burying them. The result is a thicker, juicier, and whiter plant. White because the asparagus hasn’t been subject to sun and hasn’t developed the green chloroplasts that you associate with photosynthesis.

Spargel is highly seasonal. During the month of May you overindulge in the vegetable by every means possible until you’re sick of the sight of it. Every restaurant has a Spargelmenu while Spargel is in season. You buy Spargel all over the place, from supermarkets to side-of-the-road kiosks. Best is to eat it like corn, straight from the field: Spargel does not keep.

When you get it home, you have to use a Germanic instrument, the Spargel peeler, to remove the tough outer layers of skin and cook it the same way you’d cook green asparagus. Classically Spargel is served with boiled potatoes, air-cured Schinken or ham, and a sauce Hollandaise. Personally I prefer a small sliver of butter.

Germans get quite creative with the glut of the stuff and I’ve eaten it (mostly in the last two weeks) in a soup, a risotto, pasta, an aspic, as a salad, with a schnitzel, and fried into an omelette. It pairs nicely with a freezer-cold Gruner Veltliner. I’ve seen but not been daring enough to try the stuff in desserts.

The texture is more delicate and the flavour is more subtle, sometimes mildly nutty. This is definitely one of the more wonderful things that Germans have brought into the world and I suggest that you plan to visit in the next couple of weeks or in late April/early May next year so you can also indulge.

Yours, as ever,
Germanofile

P.S. For those 22% of us who at risk of the foetid aromas of everyday asparagus eating, Spargel is a wonderful invention — it reduces the odor emanating from your urine by a significant quantity, to levels where it is barely perceptible.

This isn’t about Germany, per se, but Europe. Every time I order a cappuccino, I get a beautiful coffee, not a barrage of further questions. I don’t need to specify venti, grande, short or any other adjective — a cappuccino to go comes as Himself intended: in a 6 oz cup. Makes me happy at least.