Feasting: Last Meals in Heidelberg

We've had some fantastic German food here in Heidelberg.  Let's reminisce:

A traditional Bavarian Weisswurst breakfast. At Zum Franziskaner.

Traditional Palatinate blood sausage and liver Knödel, always with buttery potatoes. At Kulturbrauerei.

Lots of wonderful beers: zum Wohl!

One of my favorite ways to spend a Saturday: hike to the monastery and eat fresh cheese, bread, and olives there in the open air.

But I've got to say that my favorite German thing to eat here is Schweinshaxe: roast crackling pork knuckle - 

the one above is at one of our favorite restaurants, Vetter, served with sauerkraut, Semmelknödel, and mustard.

As you can see, this ain't for the weak of heart - or the weak of stomach.  I will miss all this hearty goodness.  But we still have this weekend in Munich!  Let's see what they have on offer there...

Wandering: The Road Goes Ever On And On

Dusk at the Jesuitenkirche.

This is my last week in Heidelberg... I won't be flying back to the States for another week or so, but after this Friday I'll be traveling around, first to Munich and then to the UK, then back here to pack up and go.  I can't tell you how sad this makes me!  I never expected to live in Germany or to become so fond of it, but Heidelberg has really become home in the last year.  I will miss:

the view from my apartment onto the rooftops of the Altstadt and the hills of the Philosophenweg,

 peering into bakery windows to see what ridiculous pastries they're hawking,

 meeting friends for lunch in plazas,

wandering around on little trails,

pausing on the Old Bridge to look at distant hills and to wonder what lies beyond...

But aside from these things, I will miss the home this place has given me.  It really has been a haven after a very tough couple of years.  It has been an ideal place to study, think, explore, recover, and take delight in life and the world.

Haiatus

Soon I will be one of these picnickers, lounging on the banks of the Neckar and enjoying some sunshine.  The next three weeks, however, are crunch time for me.  I have my general comprehensive exam coming up - first a 6-hour written exam followed up by an oral defense of that in front of my faculty.  I'm facing this exam with a bit more equanimity than my Greek exam, which I took this last January.  After all, this will be in English, and there's much more leeway to argue about what I've said than when translating passages.

Still, it's tough going at times, and my thinking sometimes feels like that canoe: not quite going with the current and feeling the drag of sluggishness and confusion.  Still!  Three more weeks and I'll be off!  Never mind the next hoop, waiting for me in the Fall.  I'll have several weeks of glorious nothing.  Actually, a lot more than nothing.  Travel, family, sunshine, knitting, sniffing, tasting.  Given, of course, that I pass!  But I'm vowing to stay confident and cheerful to the bitter end.

And then it will be smooth sailing.  Till then, I must say ta-ta-for-now.

Making: Forest Canopy Shawl for Mother's Day

I've been waiting to blog about this one - I finished this weeks ago, but since it was for my mother, and she reads this blog, I had to wait.  I must say, this has been the most challenging and gratifying project I've knitted.  Being new to lace knitting, I had no idea what to expect.  But the pattern for the Forest Canopy Shawl is perfect for first time lace knitters.  Here the link for the pattern.

This is what it looked like while still on the needles... pretty darn unimpressive.  And all those red threads?  Those are life lines that I kept putting in to hold my place in case I had to rip back due to some horrible mistake.  And, believe me, I had to rip back.  Luckily, I got better as I went along, and ripped back less and less.  In the beginning I was so discouraged, and knitting seemed like it had become an exercise in futility and frustration.  I almost decided that I was simply not a lace knitter.  Sweaters and mittens I could do.  Lace?  Why do something that makes you curse and throw things?

But something magical happened when I finally slipped it off the needles, washed, and then blocked it (on a hideous old mattress, I must say).  The lace opened up.  The pattern came out.  And I thought: I made that?  As an academician, these moments are hard to come by.  Rarely do I write something or argue something and think: There, that's settled.  That's correct.  In fact, the whole enterprise of research and theory requires that we keep questioning our work.  It can be rewarding, no doubt, but there's a certain oomph of finality that's lacking.  This is why I gravitate towards knitting and baking: these are crafts where the question (can I do this?) gets firmly answered (yes! no!) at least to a more certain degree.  Of course, I'm sure the deeper I go into either of these crafts the more I will find that is theoretical and debatable, especially as craft moves towards art.  But, for the time being, it is very, very satisfying to say: I made this! 

We took these on the Philosophenweg, in the forest, in honor of its name.  I call my individual shawl, however, the Sea Canopy, given its wonderful shades of blue.

Raveled here.

Making, Wandering, and Feasting: May Festival at the Neuberg Abbey

This last Saturday we celebrated May Day at an abbey nestled in the grassy hills of Neuberg.  It all seemed so magical: here I was, in Germany, going to a Maifest with monks! Beer! A spitted ox!  It was so Christian and pagan all at once - we were inviting the new spring to come in but doing it all in a sanctioned cloister of godly men.  (I was less interested in attending the festivities for Walpurgis the night before - it basically involves tramping up the Philosophenweg at the dead of night, which would be great fun except that in this instance you'd be surrounded by drunken university students carrying fake torches.  If it were more pagan, and less drunken-college-party, I would go.)  Anyway!  The abbey grounds were indeed lovely.

 It was a pearly, gray day, and the walk there was nice and refreshing.

The monks run a shop full of local products, many of them made at the abbey.

Fresh eggs!  The eggs in Heidelberg, in general, seem fresher: the yolks are a brighter color, the shells often have a bit of down stuck on them.  It may not mean anything, but it seems a bit closer to the earth to me.

I am a weak-kneed fool when it comes to bottles and jars of handmade goodies.  Witness that I have 1) my own homemade strawberry-rhubarb jam at home as well as 2) unfinished jars of quince and plum preserves from a local restaurant.  So what did I do?  Promptly bought a jar of apple-ginger jelly.  Good thing I am not a drinker or I would have made off with a few bottles of monk-brewed apple brandy and what-not.

We were promised a whole spitted ox (it said so in the adverts) but we apparently arrived too late: the earlier May Day revelers had gnawed that thing to the bone!  Though I must say, this is a small ox.  "Must have been a baby ox," I remarked, to which my friend said, "Please don't say that again!"

Never mind, we had excellent roast trout and potatoes,

we watched the monks imbibe,

and did some imbibing ourselves (along with some Feuerwurst and pretzels).

And the walk home in the twilight, along the river, was lovely.

Wandering: Der Philosophenweg im Frühling (The Philosophers' Way in Spring)

Across the river and up, up, up the Schlangenweg (Snake Path) is the Philosophenweg.  I've wandered upon it many times these past few weeks.  Somehow I find myself chancing upon epiphanies and new ideas when I hike this path, even though I've taken to it to "get away" and clear my head.  I suppose it is aptly named and it works a type of enchantment with its meandering curves.

Now, in the early spring, the path seems especially enchanted.  Yesterday afternoon, with the sun reaching in through the bright green canopy, whispers seemed to swirl around me, and little movements in the undergrowth quickened as I approached and then grew silent.

 Across the valley, most trees are still quiet and sleeping, but a battalion of pines marches down the slope.

Once I see these pleading branches above me, I know that my walk is almost over.  Then I take the sloping path down to Haarlass, then back along the Neckar River, across the Old Bridge, and back into my study.  But I'm not quite sure that the enchantment doesn't last for a few hours more, ebbing away slowly while I go about the rest of my day.

Feasting: Of Pâté and Quail Eggs

We were supposed to show up at the professor's apartment after the lecture for cocktails before going out for dinner.  Unfortunately, the lecture ran long, so cocktail hour was skipped.  After dinner, the professor slipped this bag into my hand: "I really can't be eating this rich food - so here's a doggy bag for you."  "Doggy bag" is probably the most inappropriate term for the contents of that parcel: three enormous slices of pâté and a tiny carton of hard-boiled quail eggs.  These were to have been eaten with the drinks before dinner.

Now I know that pâté is not the most photogenic thing - and I am definitely not a food stylist - but I had to show you the three different kinds of pâté I was given.  Two with morsels of meat en gelée and one of pure pâté goodness.

Quail eggs just taste richer, creamier, and denser than chicken eggs.  And the fact that they are so dainty and their shells so beautiful - just look at the pale mint green on the inside of speckled brown! - that they are a delight to eat.

And, really, I have a thing for eggs, overall.   This was gastronomic kindness at its greatest.

Wandering: A Walk to the Castle

You can either take the tram or hike up the hillside to ramble around the ruins of the Heidelberg Castle (blown up by the French in 1689).  It's easier to take the tram - but then you would miss sights like the one above . . .

. . . and a miniature landscape of moss on the steps up.

The old clock tower at the gates of the castle.

Here's a larger view of our beloved town, looking down from the castle walls.  

Our apartment is about a couple buildings to the left of those twin spires in front of the bridge.

There's a large expanse of park grounds on the plateau of land next to the castle.  I am waiting for warmer weather to come up here with my knitting and a book or two.  Or three or four, depending on how far I am studying for exams!  Speaking of which, I must now be off to study.

Marmalade & Hyacinths

Marmalade in German means "jam," but I still get so confused because I just think "marmalade." We recently ate at a lovely restaurant that was so cozy it was like eating in a farmwife's kitchen - wood burning furnace, dark wood beams, lots of nooks and crannies.

After dinner we purchased some homemade marmalade that was for sale on a counter. All proceeds went to the children's hospital. And the jars were so cheery and cute. The one above is a quince jelly.

These are my Valentine's day flowers. They've been perfuming the entire place for the last week! Just another sign that Spring is coming - today it was a balmy 50°F. Warm enough for me and my two apartment-mates to walk around with ice-cream cones after dinner. Life is good.

A Rooftop through the Seasons

From the living room window in Heidelberg:

Summer storms.

Autumn leaves.

Winter snows.

When spring comes, I'll post that too. It seems a long way off, but it's nice to be cozy inside, too.

Der Weihnachtsmarkt : The Christmas Market

With the beginning of Advent, Christmas markets all over Germany open. In plazas and squares, bakers and crafters and artists set up shop. Heidelberg hosts several markets in four separate squares in the old city, and it is really lovely and picturesque.

This stand is selling traditional Nutcrackers and wooden ornaments.

Of course there are Lebkuchen (gingerbread) and candy sellers everywhere.

Besides from Christmas fare, there are also beautiful crafts for sale, like this lovely pottery.

This brilliantly lit shop is selling Glühwein, a spiced mulled-wine that's only drunk at this time of year.
It is powerful stuff! I like the taste, but, really, I should stay far away from it!

This man is carving a wooden bowl. His shop sells all sorts of wooden

serving platters as well as stools and tables - all hand carved by him!

This is the bowl and ladle I bought from him. I love it that I know

who made this and that I can see his knife patterns all over the bowl.

I wish that the States had more of a market culture. Sure, there are farmers markets and craft markets, especially in large cities, like New York, but we're still much more dependent on Target and supermarkets. Not that I don't love Target! But, there is lots to be said about buying direct from a grower or crafter or artist and enjoying the walk around a city square.