Weisswurst & Wald

Ok, I promise not all my blog posts will be about food & nature, and begin in my Oma's kitchen, but that picture of Samuel was just too much for me to casually toss aside. He wasn't even trying to be funny, if you can believe it. I barely can.

I may remember Samuel from: Colombia, England & Taiwan. Onto country four, Samuel bought a very cheap (40 euro) airfare from London to come and visit me at my Opa's house. This meant a great deal, as none of my friends have ever met my German family, who are too wonderful, charming and downright eccentric for me to really describe.

To celebrate Samuel's arrival into Bavaria, we made ourselves a uniquely Bavarian lunch. First up, the 'Weisswurst' (white sausages). Vegetarian friends please look away. Weisswurst is made of veal (eeek I know! ethics!) and is delicious. It is traditionally served before noon, but that's because people didn't use to have refrigerators. So we ate ours at 1p.m. and didn't even die. It is cooked for ten minutes in boiled water which has been taken off the heat, so they don't burst. If they burst, you totally ruined it. Below: 'cooking' (more like heating) our Weisswurst.

Another classic: potato salad. Yes, I bought it and even photographed my own laziness. Below: amazing Bier from a nearby monastery/ brewery. If we were being really Bavarian we would have had Weissbier, but I reckon Andechs Bier, since 1455 or whenever, is authentic enough.

You need to buy a special 'sweet' Munich mustard to eat Weisswurst with.

And of COURSE: Brezel!

Woohoo! Amazing success below: (note the Bavarian FLAG on one of the glasses, we don't do things by half in this household).

After all that high-calorie nonsense, we decided to take a walk in the woods. Squint and you can see the Alps in the background. Note my fabulous Bavarian coat, and Samuel's not very Bavarian socks. Heart !

Cobbler & Snowbells in Bavaria

Staying at Opa's is always a wonderful opportunity to utilise Oma's (rest her soul) fabulous kitchen, pictured above with Opa in the doorway. After seeing me with the camera he demanded I photograph him, which I was all too pleased to do. Maybe I am blinded by love, but he still reminds me of Humphrey Bogart.

Just as I was serving up apple and blueberry cobbler with bourbon vanilla icecream, my business uncle Christoph happened to turn up. This is the second time he has randomly appeared while I was serving something surprisingly delicious that I baked, and I love it, because it gives the mistaken impression that this is the kind of thing I do all the time.

Little brother Christoph to the Left and Burkhard (see previous blog) to the Right.

After stuffing ourselves with sugar and caffeine, Burkhard suggested I join him and an eco-colleague of some variety for a walk in some woods nearby, notable at this time of year for the flowering snowbells. After asking if I would be bored (answer: no), I happily said yes.

Then I took some silly photos of the top half of my, Burkhard's and his colleague's heads, in that order.

My Own Attenborough

Whenever I go back 'home' to south Bavaria, one of the best activities is going on walks with my uncle Burkhard, whose job, passion and interest lies in protecting the eco-systems around here, with a particular emphasis on the lives of birds around the lake. Above, Burkhard in his office. Below, in his real office.

Below: some locals who innocently asked a question and happily found themselves on an intensive tour.

One of them asked Burkhard how ecologically important a piece of shore is; about 30metres long, near his town and currently being discussed as a place for a 'beach'.

Burkhard replied: "Well, about as important as two screws in an aeroplane. The plane will still fly, but if you take too many out, well ... "

Below: late-afternoon in a farming area. Using up the rest of the day.

Retrospective: Pancake Day/ Farewell

On my final evening in Jerusalem, my flatmate faced me with a look of horror when I told her I had never heard of 'Pancake Day'. Basically, it's how English people make religion awesome. So, on a suitably delightful send-off, they made us pancakes - first with mushrooms, and then with lemon juice and sugar for dessert.

Aside from saying good-bye to the fine city of Jerusalem and my charming flatmates, I also had to bid farewell to a material possession which has held a particularly dear place in my heart. Every city I live in for 3 months or so (I don't really have a strict rule), I make sure to buy myself one 'luxury purchase' to remember the city by. Preferably something I can wear or some other form of 'Useful Aesthetics.'

Almost two years ago, in Hanoi, my luxury purchase was the beautiful 100% pure silk velvet coat below. As you can see from this picture, I loved it entirely to death and it seemed imprudent to take it with me, given my extreme shortage of bag space and my belief in the importance of letting go. My flatmate Yael made this farewell slightly less painful by adopting the coat as a particularly fine dressing gown. Also, I'll hopefully be in Hanoi for a week in June - and will find myself some new soft, stunning thing to wrap myself in.

My downstairs neighbours joined us, we drank together (I tried to keep this in check due to the impending flight) and took some final photographs in my bedroom. Also, see picture below for my new coat - one of my Jerusalem luxury purchases - designed and made in Israel.

These people waited up with me almost until my shuttle to the airport came, in the middle of the night. My friend Barak waited on the side of the road with me and listened to me fret about whether I had been forgotten, and chided me softly for not staying longer. Hanevi'im street was almost empty, except a few particularly strange orthodox people walking around and us, and when the shuttle did pull up, I hugged Barak and got in, putting my ipod on LOUD and trying not to cry.

Mahane Yehuda

In some minor respects my three months in Jerusalem were quite trying - it was very cold, I had no money most of the time and my work entailed reading in detail about some of the worst news the region has to offer. However, if I was ever feeling particularly dour, there was one place sure to cheer me up and remind me there was nowhere I'd have rather been - the sprawling, chaotic Jewish market, known as the Mahane Yehuda or simply the Shuk.

With everything from tourist wares, to pita breads, olives and hummus, to a whole street of cleaning products, the Mahane Yehuda could provide endless hours of entertainment and people watching. And, even if I only had a few dollars, I could find something to make me feel a bit spoilt.

Above: where I bought a kippah for my friend Top. Below: a kippah store actually not in the market, but I wanted to give an idea of the range and amount around.

Yes, yes, all very nice things, but below we find what I primarily lived off for during my poor weeks - those pita breads which you buy in those plastic bags for 5 shekel (about $1.50nz). I would buy a bag and put it in the freezer to take a pita out, at whim, snap it in half and toast it. Delicious with tahini, boiled egg and salad.