Bratwursts in Beer Sauce: Stolzer Heinrich

There are quite a lot of recipes for this dish, which certainly seems to be so German; I mean, sausages and beer, c'mon now! The dish is common in Berlin and in the state of Thüringen, usually rendered as "Thuringia" in English, which is located in the middle of Germany. Thuringia's state capital is Erfurt, but likely its best known city is Weimar, the city where Germany's constitution was put together (Berlin was in turmoil) in the aftermath of Germany's defeat in World War One and the fall of the Hohenzollern monarchy; thus, the republic was commonly referred to as the "Weimar Republic." Famous German writers and playwrights Johann Wolfgang von Goethe and Friedrich Schiller lived and collaborated in Weimar for a time in the early 1800s. After World War Two, Thuringia was in East Germany. "Stolzer Heinrich" means "proud Henry," and the base form "stolz" is related to English "stilt" (stilt in German is "Stelze").

Lebkuchen is the general term for spicy gingerbread, but there are types of gingerbread like in the Nuremberg area, where it is often called "Honigkuchen;" that is, "honey cake." Remember, sugar was very expensive for centuries, and it was a product for wealthy people. The common people used honey to sweeten many dishes; thus, "honey cake." There is also "Magenbrot;" that is, literally "stomach bread," as the herbs and spices were considered good for one's digestive system. Actually, in the German parts of Switzerland it has long been known as "Kräuterbrot;" that is, "herb/herbal bread," and herbs and spices have been used as medicines throughout history. Some Kräuterbrot/Magenbrot is sliced like regular bread, while others are in sort of bite size diamond shapes, and I dare you to try to eat just one! While gingerbread is a common Christmas treat (some German areas have it year round), German cultural areas in Europe also have special gingerbread cakes for cooking (minimal sugar is used). It is used to season (typically) dark colored sauces. In this dish, some use dark beer, some use light (colored) beer, some use both, and others use Malzbier, which means "malt beer," and it is dark, but with little or no alcohol, with a 'malty' taste. It is most common in the U.S., the Caribbean and Central and South America, where it is marketed as "Malta." Juniper berries are a common seasoning in some German and other European recipes. They look like dried blueberries and it is best, at least in my opinion, to lightly crack them before adding them to a recipe. They are best known for their use in making gin. Juniper berries can be found in spice shops, and perhaps in some supermarkets in the U.S. They are not an essential ingredient in this recipe, so if you don't have them, I wouldn't worry about it, but no martinis for you!   

 

"Stolzer Heinrich" is often served with mashed potatoes. There are a number of terms for mashed potatoes in German, with "Kartoffelpüree" and "Kartoffelbrei" both being broadly common, but there are also "Stampfkartoffeln," "Erdäpfelpüree" (generally southern), "Kartoffelstock" (generally in Switzerland), and in Berlin, "Quetschkartoffeln" is pretty common). Fried potatoes, "Bratkartoffeln," are also served at times.

 

Ingredients (4 servings):

 

4 bratwursts (red or white)

2 tablespoons butter + 1 teaspoon oil 

2 tablespoons flour

1/2 cup finely chopped onion

1 cup beef stock

1 cup dark beer (Malzbier is used in Berlin)

3 tablespoons crushed Lebkuchen (or ginger snaps)

2 bay leaves

2 tablespoons capers

(optional) 3 juniper berries

1 1/2 tablespoons lemon juice

2/3 teaspoon ground black pepper 

salt to taste, but remember, the beef stock likely has a good bit of salt, and the capers too

Add the butter and oil to a skillet over low heat. Add the sausages and brown them, turning them often. It's okay if they don't cook through, as they will cook more shortly. When the sausages are browned, remove them to a plate, add the finely chopped onion and saute for just one minute, then add the flour to the skillet and stir it into the onion, butter and pan juices; cook for a minute or two to give it just some light brown color and to get rid of the raw flour taste. Now add the crushed/ground gingerbread and turn the heat to medium and slowly add the beef stock, stirring constantly to incorporate and to prevent lumps. Now add the beer (I often use Malzbier) and the bay leaves and the juniper berries (if using), bring to a simmer; adjust the heat downward if need be to maintain a gentle simmer for 2 minutes. Add the ground black pepper and stir, then add the bratwursts to the sauce and simmer gently for 5 minutes, turning the bratwursts to make sure they cook through completely. Add the capers and the lemon juice and cook for another minute. Serve with mashed potatoes.     

WORD HISTORY:

Plant-This word, commonly in noun and verb form, is related to "flat," a word from the Germanic roots of English, to "plaza," a word borrowed from Spanish which had it from Latin which had it from Greek ("place" is essentially the same word, but in French, and it was borrowed by English from French), to "plate," another word borrowed from French which had it from Latin which had it from Greek, and to "clan," a word borrowed from Gaelic which had it from Old Irish which had it from Latin. "Plant" goes back to Indo European "plat," which had the meanings "to spread, to broaden, to make flat, to flatten," and this gave Latin "planta" meaning, "sole of the foot" ("the flat part of the foot"), and this spawned the Latin verb "plantare" meaning, "to push into the ground with the foot," also perhaps further, "to smooth or flatten the ground with the foot;" both leading to the meaning, "to plant." This was borrowed by Old English as the verb "plantian," also meaning "to plant," and this was later shortened to "plant." The Latin verb "plantare" also brought about the noun "planta" (same spelling as the old noun, but a new word) meaning "a young plant, a sprout, a shoot," and Old English borrowed this as "plante" (the 'e' was pronounced in those times as 'ah/eh'), and as with the verb, the noun narrowed to "plant." The meaning of the noun for "place of industrial work," as in, "I work at the car plant," seems to be from the verb usage of "building;" that is, "growing" something, the process and the machinery used for the production, which then transferred to the entire building or complex used for production. The beginnings of this usage is from the late 1700s. Other Germanic relatives of English also borrowed forms from Latin: German has the verb "pflanzen" and the noun "Pflanze," Low German verb "planten" and noun "Plant," Dutch verb "planten" and noun "plant," West Frisian verb "ploantje" (also the form "plantsje?") and the noun "plant," Danish has the verb "plante" and the noun "planten(?)," Icelandic has the noun "planta," but seemingly doesn't have a related verb form (not sure about in the past, however), Norwegian seems to have "plante" as both its noun and verb form, Swedish has the verb "plantera" and the noun "planta" (antiquated?).          

Time Takes A Toll

As the years pass, from some point in our childhood, we realize that we all share a common fate that will take life from us. That fate befalls some far too early, but it will befall all of us. When we are 20, it all seems far off and generally incomprehensible. But then the decades tick by almost like they are singular years and our appearance changes more and more as we journey toward our end. It scares most of us, probably all of us. Some seek refuge in religion, but that can't save us from our inevitable destiny. We ache, we hobble, we're unsteady, we get dizzy, we tremble, we see spots before our eyes, we have to listen more closely to hear things, and there are any number of other things. 

 

If we're lucky, as time ticks onward, no matter how much we wish it were not the case, the people close to us in our lives pass on in predictable order; that is, great grandparents (also great-great aunts and uncles), grandparents (also great aunts and uncles), parents (also aunts and uncles). Of course, this is idealistic in many ways, as I'd guess few people experience such an orderly passing of their family members, let alone the passing of neighbors or the people they grew up with or those they came to know closely or perhaps just as basic acquaintances. Deaths of people in our lives hurt, even if they are "expected," but they both stun and hurt a lot more when they come at us out of nowhere. As we lose people in our lives, we hear the footsteps of life's worst bogeyman, "Death," as the footsteps tail us from some distance, but they always keep gaining on us, as the footsteps grow ever louder and they draw closer and closer. When will death catch us?

Like other people, I've had the ugly shock of unexpected deaths of people in my lifetime, but two of those deaths hit me especially hard and made me face something that I'd tried to ignore ... the footsteps were getting closer. When I was 50, one of those deaths was of a former boss named Al who was about 4 years older than me. He dropped dead in the shower at his home as he got ready to go to work one morning. I saw the death notice for him in the newspaper, and while I'm sure I knew the truth, I later called his secretary to have her confirm it to me. That's was how I learned what had happened to him. A few years later, I saw an even more terrifying obituary, an obituary for Joe, one of my best friends from childhood. Al's death really hurt, but Joe's death was a full scale wallop that shook me to the core. When we were in our early 30s, Joe was tremendously stressed over the possible permanent loss of his job, due to steel plant closings during the 1980s. I still recall him telling me back then, "Remember when we were kids? We didn't have to worry about earning a living, because that worry was with our parents. Our biggest worry was to have enough money to buy a new wiffle ball and our next bottle of pop."* Learning of Joe's death was almost too painful to deal with, and there are no medicines for such pain.  

 

We wish we had one more time with so many of those who have passed from our lives; one more time to tell them something special, one more time to give them the hug we wished we had given them before they were gone and the footsteps behind us grew louder.  

 

* A wiffle ball was/is a baseball type ball of plastic, with holes in its surface. Because it was made of plastic, it wasn't much of a threat to do damage to property, like vehicles or windows, so it could be used just about anywhere, which was naturally not the same with a regular baseball. Of course, as kids, we were innovative. A wiffle ball didn't always hold up very well, so we wrapped them in various types of tape to make them last longer, but that also made them somewhat heavier, which made them travel further, and it also could make them more likely to put at least a mark on a car or "perhaps" even crack a window. Wiffle ball was VERY popular in our neighborhood and we played in the schoolyard, a churchyard, alleys, streets and playgrounds. It was also pretty thrifty, as you only needed the plastic bat, the ball (with tape, although you could get by without it) and whatever you could scrounge up to use for bases, and they didn't have to be pretty. And pop, or soda pop to some, was typically sold in bottles back then, not cans.   

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Destiny (Destine)-The main body of this word is related to a large number of words like: "station," "statue," the verb "stay" (meaning "remain in place, stop"), all words of Latin derivation borrowed by English from Latin-based French, to "status," a Latin word borrowed from that language, to "stand" (both the verb and the noun) and to "stead," with these words coming from the Germanic roots of English. The "de-" is a common prefix in Latin and its offspring languages, related through Indo European to English "to" and "too," which go back to the Germanic roots of English. "De-" goes back to Indo European "de," with a wide range of meanings like, "stemming or coming from, because of/by reason of (both closely connected to "stemming/coming from"), from, down from," and this gave Latin "de," generally meaning "from, down from, about, concerning." The main body of "destiny" goes back to Indo European "sta/steh," which meant, "to stand, to be in place, to be firm (that is, "in place")," with the extended form "steno." This gave Latin "stinare," meaning, "to fix in place," and with the prefix this gave Latin "destinare," meaning "to establish, to set securely in place, to make firm." This passed to Latin-based Old French as "destiner," meaning "to set in place or occur (by fate or deities)," and its past participle (feminine), "destinée," was used as a noun for "fate" ("that which is intended to happen"). English borrowed the word in the 1300s from French as "destine," before "destiny," and with the same meaning, generally more concisely as, "predetermined outcome. "English also borrowed the verb from French "destiner" as "destinen," meaning "to predetermine by way of some intention by fate or deities," and "to predetermine," as in, "The starlet is destined for tremendous fame" (that is, she is so good, fame is already determined; it is inevitable, her destination is fame), and further in meaning, "an intended purpose or goal," as in, "The terrible storm forced the closing of roads and we had been destined for the beach."  

Big North German "Dumpling": Mehlbeutel

This is an extra large German dumpling dish, with a pretty dense texture. The standard German word for this dish is "Mehlbeutel,"* which means "flour bag." It gets its name from these large dumplings being boiled inside cloth flour bags long ago. The dumplings are from the marshy Dithmarschen region** of Schleswig-Holstein. The standard German form, "Mehlbeutel," was taken from the actual Low German form of that region, "Mehlbüdel." While more typically a dessert, served with fruit compote, it can also be used as a lunch dish served with bacon or ham and boiled potatoes, along with some mustard on the side, which is how I prefer it. The basic idea for this dish most likely came from a combination of German merchant sailors returning from England with various recipes for English puddings*** they had tried while there, and from English merchant sailors leaving such recipes in German ports when docked there. This dish itself seems to date back to around 1700. Some Germans call the dish "Großer Hans" (Big John/Jack).

 

Serve as a lunch dish with the smoked pork you've cooked, boiled potatoes and mustard, or serve as a dessert dish with cherry compote (see below), strawberry jam, or just some melted butter drizzled over each serving and then dusted with powdered sugar. If you don't have black currants, you can use all raisins. The meat must be smoked to give the dumpling the proper flavor as it cooks in the water used to cook the meat.

 

Ingredients: 

 

4 cups flour, more if needed, + a couple of tablespoons for the towel

4 eggs, separated 

2 cups milk (a little more IF needed)

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

5 tablespoons melted butter

1/4 cup sugar

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/3 cup raisins

1/4 cup black currants

smoked slab bacon in a piece or smoked ham shanks or smoked pork shoulder in a piece or smoked ham hocks 

water for cooking the smoked pork & Mehlbeutel

For cherry compote: 

1/2 cup dried cherries

1 teaspoon lemon juice

1 to 3 tablespoons sugar (depending upon desired sweetness)

1/3 cup water 

First you'll need a linen towel or large cloth napkin (not stringy in any way). Boil the towel in plain water, absolutely NO soap or cleaning agents of any kind. Let the towel boil for about 10 minutes; afterward, drain the water, let the towel cool so that you can wring it out and then spread it out so that it can dry somewhat (I let it dry completely, so I do this part well in advance of making the dumpling, but it doesn't have to be totally dry).

 

In a pot (you will need a pretty good size pot), add whatever smoked meat you'll be using, like for instance: slab bacon, ham shank, pork shoulder, ham hocks, and cover the meat with water. Bring to a good steady simmer and let cook while you prepare the dumpling. In a large bowl, mix together the flour, 4 egg yolks, milk, baking powder, melted butter, salt, sugar, raisins and black currants. In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites until peaks form. Fold the egg whites into the batter/dough. 

 

On a flat surface, spread the towel out, sprinkle a couple of tablespoons of flour into the middle part of the towel and smooth it out. Add the dough to the middle of the towel, then pull up the corners of the towel around the dough (the dough shouldn't be like bread dough or pizza dough, but it shouldn't be like pancake batter, either). I use some kitchen twine to tie around the towel corners (you should leave a little room for the dough to expand at the top). Germans often tie or fasten the handle of a large kitchen spoon or ladle to the "bundle" and suspend the bundle from this in the pot to keep the dumpling from sitting on the bottom of the pot. I have not done this "step," and I found that after putting the dumpling bundle into the boiling water, that it floated in a matter of a few minutes, just like other dumplings do (I moved it around occasionally so that it wouldn't just sit on the bottom of the pot), but you can leave the meat in the pot, and this will keep the dumpling from resting on the bottom anyhow. Add a little more water after you put the dumpling into the pot (and at any time during the cooking process, if the water level drops too much), and turn the heat to low (or to a point on your stove where the water maintains a gentle simmer). Remove the meat to a plate when it is done, but you won't be arrested by the "Mehlbeutel police" if you keep the meat in the pot for the duration of cooking the dumpling. I occasionally use a large spoon to "dunk" the dumpling "bundle" into the water and to turn it. The dumpling needs to cook for about two hours, then remove it from the pot, take the string off and peel the corners of the towel down and set the dumpling onto a plate without the towel for 5 to 10 minutes (see photo three, below). While the dumpling rests briefly, cut or distribute the meat to however many serving plates you need, then slice the dumpling into wedges (see photos below). Serve as a dessert or lunch dish as mentioned above. 

 

* English has words related to the component parts of its German cousin's compound "Mehlbeutel:" "Mehl" in English is "meal;" that is, meal the flour or ground up grain, and "Beutel" is from the same Old Germanic source that gave English "bud (of a plant)," with German "Butte" being an old form that meant "bud, the housing or casing for plant seeds."

 

** Dithmarschen is a region in the state of Schleswig-Holstein where a rather large amount of marshland along its North Sea coast has been reclaimed from the sea. The city of Heide is the district seat. It was from areas like this all along the North Sea coast that elements of Germanic tribes began sailing to Britain nearly 1600 years ago and took over a substantial part of land there, which then came to be named for one of those Germanic tribes, the Angles of "Angle-land;" that is, "England."  

 

*** Generally, English puddings date back centuries and originally referred to chopped meats and other ingredients stuffed into animal stomachs or intestines and then boiled or baked. The term then moved to flour, liquid and often egg mixtures (some containing fruit and spices and sometimes rum or other liquor) that were boiled, baked or steamed until firmed into a more solidified form. In American English, puddings are flavored custard-like mixtures that are commonly thickened with cornstarch and they are usually refrigerated. 

 

In photos 1, 2 and 4 below, "Mehlbeutel" with smoked pork shoulder, boiled potatoes and mustard; photo 3, cooked "Mehlbeutel" with the towel removed (the towel I used was not smooth, so it naturally left the pattern on the Mehlbeutel), and you can see the size of the dumpling, as that is a full size dinner plate; photo 5, "Mehlbeutel" as a dessert with melted butter and cherry compote ... 

 

 

 

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Dusk-This word is distantly related to the main part of "obfuscate," a word English borrowed from Latin, and it's more closely related to "dust," a word from the Germanic roots of English. It goes back to Indo European "dheu," which had the notion of "smoke, haze, dust," with the extended form "dheus(k)." This gave Old Germanic "dusko," with much the same meaning, and this produced the adjective "duskaz," meaning "of dark color, dark colored," and this gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "dox" (swarthy, dark haired). This then became "dosc/dosk," by which time the meaning had altered slightly to "not bright in color, to the dark side in color, shadowy," and this then became "duske," before the 'e' was dropped, and the noun meaning became "trending toward full darkness, not complete darkness" (the noun originally meant "darkness," circa 1400, and it was rendered as "dusknesse"). While not all that common in modern times, the verb form came into being (1300s?) as "dusken" ("to get dark"). The adjective "dusky" is from the mid 1500s, meaning "dim in light, near darkness."    

Scottish Mince & Tatties

I really couldn't find anything much about the history of this Scottish dish, but potatoes came from the New World and they were only introduced to England in the late 1500s, and then from there to Scotland and to the rest of the British Isles. Once potatoes became available in Scotland, the basic ingredients needed for the dish means it could have easily developed at any time. The thing is, whenever "Mince & Tatties" first appeared, it remains a popular dish in Scotland to this day.   

 

Ingredients:

 

1 pound coarsely ground beef

2 tablespoons vegetable oil (or sunflower oil)

1 cup chopped onion (relatively small chop)

1 cup chopped carrots (small chop)

2 cups beef broth + 1/2 cup, if needed

1/2 teaspoon Gravy Master or Kitchen Bouquet

1 tablespoon thick ketchup 

2 to 3 tablespoons flour 

1 teaspoon ground black pepper

salt (according to salt amount in broth)

potatoes, boiled, then mashed according to your own method

In a skillet or pan, heat the oil over medium high heat. Add the finely chopped onion and saute for 1 1/2 minutes, then add the carrots and saute another 1 1/2 minutes. Add the ground beef and cook the meat, breaking up any clumps of ground beef and mixing the vegetables into the beef. Stir in the ketchup, then sprinkle the flour over the ingredients and mix it in. Add the beef broth, ground black pepper and salt, stir well to mix. Lower the heat to low and cover the skillet/pan, either with a lid or foil. Cook the "stew" for 30 to 35 minutes, but at the 20 minute mark, add the Gravy Master or Kitchen Bouquet, stir well and add any more beef broth, if the gravy is too thick. Replace the lid or foil and continue cooking over low heat for another 10 to 15 minutes. Meanwhile, boil the potatoes in salted water, drain and mash the potatoes according to your own recipe. Serve the stew with some mashed potatoes right on the side. 

WORD HISTORY:

Clan-This word is closely related to "plant," a Latin word borrowed from that language. "Clan" goes back to Indo European "plat," which had the notion "to spread, to broaden, to make flat, to flatten," and adjectivally meaning "flat." This picked up an "n" in Old Italic, which then gave Italic's Latin offspring "planta," meaning "sole of the foot" (the 'flat' part of the foot), which took on the meaning "offshoot, a (plant) shoot," and on the verb side, "to plant" (I will elaborate more on this when I do the history of "plant"). The Latin form spawned lots of borrowings, including into Old Irish, which in ancient times used the harder "k" sound for borrowed words with "p," and this gave Old Irish "cland," meaning "plant," but thus also, "offspring," and this was borrowed by Gaelic as "clann," meaning, "offspring, children, family, family group of the same stock, tribe." This was borrowed by English in the early decades of the 1400s with essentially the same meanings. Since those times, its meaning has broadened to use for some animals, especially for hyenas. In the United States, the word has a strong association with the Ku Klux Klan, a white supremacist group founded in the post-civil War era and known for using terror tactics to intimidate the group's targets.    

Pasta alla Gricia: Roman Pasta Specialty

This is a simple dish and one of the common pasta dishes of Roman cuisine. Guanciale (like gwahn-key-ahlay by some, like gwahn-chee-ahlay by others, I've heard both) is cured fatty pork jowl, unsmoked, it is not always easy to find, although if you live near an Italian grocery store or like ordering online, give it a try; otherwise, you can use pancetta (unsmoked, cured Italian pork belly/bacon), which is much easier to find. I don't recommend using regular bacon, because it is smoked, and that will give the dish a very different taste.

 

Ingredients:

 

3/4 pound rigatoni 

2/3 cup chopped guanciale

(optional) 1 teaspoon extra virgin olive oil

1/2 cup grated Pecorino Romano 

1 1/2 teaspoons ground black pepper (to be used in 2 stages)

pasta cooking water, 2 cups, plus a little more, if needed

 

Heat a skillet over medium heat and add the chopped guanciale and immediately turn heat to low (before adding the guanciale or pancetta, you can add like a teaspoon of olive oil, if you feel the need, but I doubt you'll actually need it). Let the fat render from the guanciale by sauteing over low heat for about 12 to 15 minutes, turning or stirring around the guanciale periodically. Remove the guanciale to a plate. Still over low heat, add 1 teaspoon ground black pepper, saute for about 45 to 60 seconds. Heat salted water in a separate pan over high heat and when boiling, add rigatoni. After about 5 minutes, remove pan from heat and take 2 cups of pasta cooking water and add it to the skillet. Turn heat to high to bring water and peppered guanciale fat to a boil. Transfer the pasta to the boiling water in the skillet, stirring often. Reduce heat to medium and cook rigatoni for a total of 6 minutes in the skillet, then return the guanciale to the skillet and mix it in with the pasta and sauce. Add small amounts of remaining pasta water to the skillet, but only if the rigatoni and sauce are too thick. Once the rigatoni is al dente, add half of the Pecorino Romano and mix it in, then add the remaining cheese and combine, along with other 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper.     

 

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Magnum-This word is related to quite a number of words, for example: to "master," a word from Germanic that had been borrowed from Latin, to "magistrate," "magnify" and "mayor," Latin words borrowed by English from Latin-based French (although "magistrate" came with heavy reinforcement from Latin itself), to the prefix "mega-," which is from Greek, and to "maestro," a Latin-derived word borrowed by English from Italian.  "Magnum" goes back to Indo European "meg," which meant "great;" thus also, "big, large." This gave its Old Italic offspring "magnos," with the same meaning, and this gave Latin "magnus," with the same main meanings, but with extended meanings like "strong, mighty, grand." "Magnum" was the neuter form of "magnus," and English borrowed the word as "magnum" in the 1780s, meaning "larger than normal bottle of wine." American gun manufacturer Smith & Wesson had the registered trademark for a powerful handgun in the mid 1930s they called the "Magnum." "Magnum opus" means "great work" and is directly from Latin (seems in the 1790s?).

Bombay Savory French Toast

In India and elsewhere on the Indian subcontinent, British English is the style; thus, "savory" is spelled "savoury." This is a good breakfast or lunch dish, and  remember, on the Indian subcontinent, not only is the word spelled "savoury," but "chili powder" is made from hot chilies, and it is "hot," to varying degrees. It is not like American chili powder, which is typically mild unless specified as hot. Chop the onion and chili pepper very finely, so that they will stick to the bread slices and so they will cook properly.

 

Often served with masala chai* or ginger chai.**

 

Ingredients (for 4 pieces of toast):  

4 slices whole wheat or multigrain bread (or regular white bread)

3 eggs

1/2 cup milk

3 tablespoons finely chopped onion (red or white)

1 teaspoon minced garlic

1 finely chopped chili pepper (like jalapeno, or for hotter use serrano)

1/2 teaspoon ground turmeric

1/2 teaspoon ground red pepper (cayenne or Indian chili powder)

1 teaspoon ground cumin 

3/4 teaspoon salt

3 tablespoons chopped coriander (also known as cilantro) 

oil for frying (using a nonstick skillet will help keep oil use to a minimum, but 1/2 teaspoon per slice is a good place to start; otherwise, I'm not listing a definite amount on the oil, that is up to you to decide)

ketchup on the side for serving, or serve with a green chutney,*** which is another way it is served by Indians

 

In a shallow dish, mix together everything except the bread slices. Soak each bread slice in the mixture on both sides, pressing down so that the onion, garlic and chili pepper in the egg and milk mixture can stick to the bread slices. Use a nonstick skillet with just a little oil over medium heat. Add a slice or two of soaked bread to the hot skillet and spoon a little of the onion/garlic/chili/cilantro on top. After 60 to 90 seconds, the bottom should be browned, so you can carefully turn the bread slices over to cook the other side. Definitely check after one minute to see if the toast is browned (cook a few more seconds, if needed). Repeat the process for the next two slices, including adding a little fresh oil. 

 

* For Masala (spiced) Chai, here is the link: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2016/08/chai-pronounced-like-cheye.html 

** For Ginger Chai, here is the link: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2022/04/indian-ginger-chai.html

*** For green chutney, here is the link: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2020/10/indian-green-chutney.html

WORD HISTORY:

Whether-This is actually a compound word that usually functions to show alternatives or choices, and it goes back to the Indo European interrogative root "khwa/khwe," which meant "who, which one," and the comparative suffix "theraz" (which showed contrast). This gave Old Germanic "(k)hwatharaz," which meant "which of alternatives, seemingly implied to be "two;" thus, "which of two (choices or alternatives)." Its Old English offspring was "hwether/hwaether," with the meaning "which of two, which one of two, whichever of two;" and we still tend to use it in the sense of choice/alternatives along with "or:" "I'm not sure whether we should go this way or that way," for instance. "Hwether/hwaether" then became "whether," where it has remained for upwards of a thousand years. Relatives in the other Germanic languages: German has "weder," which has kept the "choice" meaning involved in the word, but in German that choice is on the negative side, as the word means "neither," Low German once had a form, but it is no longer used, which is also true of Frisian, Dutch "weer," but it is archaic and it means "again," from the idea of "which of two;" thus, "again." In English, we combine the word with "or," as "whether or," and German uses "weder noch," with "noch" meaning "again," but hundreds of years ago in German, they often said "weder" twice in sentences, so the expression changed to "weder noch (again)," get it? Danish has "hver," meaning "everyone, each," Norwegian has "kvar" meaning "every, each," and Norwegian also has "hver" from Danish, as Danish has had a huge influence on Norwegian, Icelandic has "hvor" meaning "which or whichever (of two), each," Swedish has "var," meaning "each, every," but it is an older form, as is "varken," the negative form; and as such, they are not common in the modern language. The Danish, Norwegian, Icelandic and Swedish forms generally go back to the Old Norse form "hvaðarr" (=hvatharr), which was then contracted to "hvárr."  

Latvian Meat Patties: Kotletes

There are lots of recipes for meat patties in Latvia, as they are quite popular there, and this is my version. Mushrooms and sour cream are certainly used in the cuisines of numerous countries, and these two food products are often used in eastern Europe, including in Latvia.

With 2 pounds of meat, I got 12 patties; of course, you can make larger patties.

 

Serve with boiled potatoes and dark brown rye bread, if you can find Latvian rye bread, go for it! You can also do a little salad, see further below.

 

Ingredients:

 

For the patties:

 

1 pound ground beef

1 pound ground pork

1 cup chopped onion, small chop

3 cloves garlic, minced

oil for frying, divided use (to saute onions and garlic, then for the meatballs/patties)

2 teaspoons ground black pepper

1 teaspoon salt

1 egg

breadcrumbs for coating the patties

For the sauce/gravy:

3 tablespoons butter

1 cup beef stock

1/3 cup sour cream

3 tablespoons flour

2 cups chopped mushrooms, small chop

2 tablespoons chopped dill

1 teaspoon ground black pepper

salt (if your beef stock has a lot of salt, you can skip adding salt, or use a small amount)

 

Heat 1 tablespoon oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and saute until the onion begins to soften, then add the garlic and saute another 1 minute, reduce heat to low and saute a further 1 minute then remove the skillet from the heat and let the onion/garlic mix cool down a bit (it doesn't have to be completely cooled). Add the ground pork and ground beef to a bowl, then add the cooled onion and garlic, ground black pepper and salt and mix everything together (best to use your hands). Add the egg and knead it into the meat mixture. Put some breadcrumbs on a plate, take enough meat to roll into the size of a golf ball, then roll it in the breadcrumbs to coat it. Continue this until all of the meat is used. Keep the meatballs on a plate, then heat 2 tablespoons of oil in the skillet over medium heat. Add some of the rolled meat to the skillet, allowing some space between them, then gently press down on each with a spoon or spatula to just slightly flatten them into something more of meat patties, rather than meatballs. Fry until browned on each side and cooked through. Remove the fried patties to a plate. Drain the oil from the skillet and use a paper towel to wipe any meat bits from the skillet. Over low heat, melt the butter, add the chopped mushrooms to the skillet and saute until softened. Sprinkle the flour over the mushrooms and mix it into the butter. Cook for about 2 minutes to remove the raw flour taste, then stir in the beef stock and increase the heat to medium until the mixture comes to a simmer. Stir in the black pepper (and salt, if using) and continue to simmer the gravy until it thickens. Reduce the heat to low again and stir in the sour cream until it is well mixed in. Add the dill and stir for about 1 minute, remove from the heat. Serve the patties with some gravy spooned over them and some boiled potatoes. 

For a nice little salad addition: some chopped or torn lettuce leaves, chopped cucumber and chopped tomato with sour cream dressing of 3 parts sour cream to 1 part buttermilk, some minced garlic, some dill and parsley, ground black pepper and salt 

 

 

 

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Junior-This word is related to "juvenile" and to the main part of "rejuvenate," both borrowed by English from Latin, and it is distantly related to "young," a word from the Germanic roots of English. "Junior" goes back to the Indo European root "yeu," which had the notion of "vigor, vitality." This gave Old Italic "juvenis," meaning "young," and this passed to its Latin offspring as the adjective "iuvenis," meaning "young" (same noun form seemingly meant "young man"), and the comparative form was "iuvenior," meaning "younger," and it was then contracted to "iunior," and English borrowed the word as "junior" in the last part of the 1200s, meaning "less in age than someone else," often included after a son's name when the son carried the same name as the father, but the abbreviated form "Jr" did not come into usage until the first couple of decades of the 1600s. The noun form was derived from the adjective in the early 1500s meaning, "a son, a younger male in a household," then also, "a common nickname for a son of the same name as his father." Both the adjective and the noun picked up the additional "a person of smaller size," and then a bit later also used for "clothing designed for smaller people, mainly those less than adult age." The late 1800s saw the use of the noun for "the third year of college," followed not long thereafter by its use for students in high school. "Junior high school" seems to be from circa 1910.     

Seeing the Past from the Present

In spite of the hiccup caused by a dispute between the owners and players, the 2022 baseball season is underway, although about a week late. Early one day last season, I was waiting for the train to take me to the market, when a teenage boy wearing a Cleveland baseball jersey, carrying a baseball glove and accompanied by his dad, walked onto the platform to wait for the train to take them downtown for a game that day (I don't now recall the visiting team that day).

I couldn't help but think of my dad and me, and sometimes my older brother, heading to Cleveland Municipal Stadium for games in the 1960s and early 1970s. My dad would never say "We're going to the stadium for the game," but rather, "We're going to the ballpark," the term he always used. Anyway, I briefly talked with the father and son about the then new season, and it was like having a conversation with my dad and myself, but 60 years ago.

 

I suppose we all reminisce about times gone by, and some seek almost desperately to hold onto the past, perhaps often at the expense of the present and the future. This episode of "The Twilight Zone" fits right into the idea of the past: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2014/10/a-visit-to-past.html   

Back in the 1960s ... my uncle, my dad's brother, was visiting us from Connecticut, where he and his family lived back then. I believe it was the last game of the season for us the day this picture was taken. Just think, "I coulda been a contender," but Marlon Brando made that line famous before I had a chance.

WORD HISTORY: 

Jersey-The origin of this word is uncertain, although it seems to go back to one of two possibilities, both of which have to do with the name of one of the Channel Islands, which is a British Crown Dependency; and thus, it is not a constituent part of the United Kingdom nor of any of the UK's component parts, with many perhaps first thinking of England. First off, there is an argument that the name "Jersey" is simply from a French pronounced form of Latin "Caesarea," which was rendered in French as "Césarée," and then which supposedly became "Gersui" in the French spoken by the descendants of the original Normans in England, then this became "Gersey," before the form "Jersey." Others believe the name comes from Old Norse, and indeed, the Norse sailed and raided along the western European coast, the English coast and among the Channel Islands. The idea is, the Norse called the island "Geirrs Island;" that is, with the Norse form coming from "geirr" and "ey," words from Germanic. "Geirr" comes from the same Germanic source that gave English "garlic, garfish, Oscar" and the verb "gore," and its basic meaning is "spear, spearhead," and in the verb gore meaning, "to be pierced or stabbed by a spear or other sharp object (usually an animal horn)." Old Norse "geirr" meant "spear," and it was also used as a male name. "Ey" goes back to Old Germanic "awjo," which meant "meadow area by a river or stream, the lower level of land near a river or stream;" thus, "a floodplain," with the further meaning "island." The Germanic form gave Old English "ieg," which meant "island," and it gave Old Norse the previously mentioned "ey," also meaning "island." The Norse forms of "Geirr" and "ey" then supposedly became "Gersui," "Gersey" and "Jersey," in succession. Whatever the case, the use of "jersey" (small 'j') for a garment for the upper body is from the island name, seemingly because such garments were commonly worn there, but when this really came into use for the garment name is unclear to me, as some have noted the name was originally applied to the particular cloth made on Jersey and then used for the garment, but there is a huge gap in possible beginnings of the term dating from the 1500s to the first half of the 1800s. This may be because the original cloth was named this in the 1500s, and then that transferred to the name for the garment, but with the "athletic shirt" meaning, which is still common today, first being used around the mid 1800s in the U.S. The U.S. state of "New Jersey" was also named after the island in the second half of the 1600s, as one of the big landowners in the region was from the island of Jersey (he had been given land in America by England's King Charles II). In every day lingo, "New Jersey" is often shortened to just "Jersey."

Bremen Fish Patty Sandwiches: Fischfrikadellenbrötchen

This is a fish sandwich that thinks it's a "hamburger," but it can't be, because it's from Bremen ... A little German humor, because a "Hamburger" isn't just a sandwich, it is also the name for a person from Hamburg; so, it can't be a "hamburger," because it's from Bremen ... oh the hell with it! Just remember, it's good, sloppy, but good! 

"Fischfrikadellenbrötchen" is one of those German words that strikes fear into the hearts of people learning German, because it looks so intimidating. The thing is, you simply need to break the combined word into parts: Fisch-frikadellen-brötchen; so, fish-patty-roll, with roll in this case taking the meaning you make the sandwich with it. German also uses "Brot" (bread) in this same sense; that is, typically a "one slice sandwich," often coupled with the other component, like "Käsebrot" (cheese sandwich) or "Schinkenbrot" (ham sandwich), the plural simply adds an 'e' to the end. German also borrowed the word "Sandwich" from English, but that generally means two slices of bread are used. The capital 'S' is correct, as all German nouns are capitalized. Fish patty sandwiches in northern Germany are often called "Bremer."

 

For this sandwich, northern Germans tend to use "Seelachs" (also known as "Köhler"), which is known in the British Isles as "coley," "coalfish" or "saithe," but in North America it is often known as "Atlantic pollock." Likely when Americans hear "pollock," they think of what is usually "Alaskan pollock," a fish related to the "Atlantic pollock," but not quite the same. The German "Seelachs" name, which literally means "sea salmon," has confused the issue even more, as it makes people think the fish is a type of salmon, which it is not. All of these fish names and this slight difference with this one and that little difference with that one may drive you nuts. The firmer white fish are better for making the patties, so here's a little list, mainly for North Americans, and these are certainly not the only fish that qualify: Alaskan pollock, tilapia, cod, haddock, flounder, halibut. If you live elsewhere in the world, you may well already know the fish commonly sold in your part of the world; otherwise, just do a little checking. 

 

These sandwiches aren't meant to be easily eaten and they are sloppy, but delicious. 

 

 

Ingredients (serves 4):

 

For the fish patties:

1 pound pollock, cod or other white fish

1/2 cup finely chopped or grated white onion; you don't want big pieces, as it likely won't cook properly

2 tablespoons finely chopped parsley

1 cup fine breadcrumbs, divided use

1 egg

2/3 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 teaspoon salt

1 tablespoon lemon juice

2 or 3 tablespoons oil for frying (more if needed)

To assemble the sandwiches:

1 medium onion cut into rings, then sauteed in one tablespoon butter + 1 teaspoon oil 

4 slices tomato

4 lettuce leaves

3 inch piece of cucumber, peeled and thinly sliced

12 slices dill pickle 

6 tablespoons remoulade* or tartar sauce**

4 tablespoons ketchup

4 buns

lemon sections for serving

 

Rinse the fish, but drain it on paper towels or pat the fish dry; you don't want any extra moisture going into the fish patties. Finely chop or process 2/3 pound of the fish. Then chop the remaining 1/3 pound of fish somewhat more coarsely for texture (not in any big chunks). Add the finely and coarsely chopped fish to a bowl, and then add the finely chopped onion, 2/3 cup breadcrumbs (you will still have 1/3 cup left), parsley, egg, salt, pepper and lemon juice, mix together well, chill the fish mixture in the refrigerator for at least one hour, remove, and with lightly moistened hands, form into 4 patties (keep the thickness the same as possible, with the overall patties not being too thick, or they won't cook properly, as the outside may get too brown, but in the thicker part it may not cook through completely). Put the remaining 1/3 cup breadcrumbs on a plate and gently press each patty into the breadcrumbs to coat them all over. Heat oil over medium heat and then fry the patties, allowing the underside to form a bit of a crust before turning the patties over to finish cooking (this can help hold them together). In a separate smaller skillet, melt 1 tablespoon butter and add 1 teaspoon sunflower oil or vegetable oil over low heat. Add the onion rings from the medium onion and saute until the onion rings are softened and browned. Spread 3 tablespoons of remoulade or tartar sauce on the bottom half of the buns, which will help hold a lettuce leaf and 3 pickle slices on each bun, then place a fish patty on top of this, then top the fish patties with some cucumber slices and tomato slices, then put some browned onion rings on top of each sandwich and add a tablespoon of ketchup to each. Finish by spreading the remaining 3 tablespoons remoulade or tartar sauce on the top bun and cover the sandwich. Serve with lemon wedges.     

 

 

* For French remoulade sauce, here is the link:  https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2020/08/french-remoulade.html 

 

** For homemade tartar sauce, here is the link: https://pontificating-randy.blogspot.com/2016/09/homemade-tartar-sauce.html

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Schmaltz-This word is related to "melt," a word from the Germanic roots of English, to "smelt," the verb meaning "to soften or melt ore in order to separate metal from it," a word from Germanic, but in this form likely borrowed from Dutch and Low German, (the noun "smelt," the name for a type of fish is "perhaps" also related, but that is not a certainty), and to the main part of "enamel," which is Germanic derived, but borrowed by English from French, which had it from Germanic Frankish. "Schmaltz" goes back to Indo European "meld," and to its extended variant form "smeld," which meant, "to soften, to make soft." This gave Old Germanic "smalta," which meant "soft fat or grease," and this gave Old English "smolt," with the same meaning, and Old High German "smalz," also with the same meaning. The English form died out, but the German form later became the modern form "Schmalz," meaning "softened or melted animal fat," and regionally in some German speaking areas, "clarified butter." Yiddish developed in the Rhineland area of Germany. It was based upon the High German dialect of that area, with elements from various German dialects, Hebrew, Slavic, and some Latin-based languages, like Rumanian. It was initially referred to as "taytsh/taytsch" (which meant "German," compared to Middle High German "tiutsch" and modern German "Deutsch"). Yiddish had the word as transliterated "shmalts," which also had the "animal fat" meaning, but over time it came to usually mean "chicken/goose fat." The meaning "excessive sentimentality" also developed, but I'm not sure if that meaning developed first in German or Yiddish, as both have it, and long ago the two languages were so closely linked, it's hard to say. English borrowed "schmaltz" in the "animal fat/chicken/goose fat" context in the mid 1800s, likely from German immigrants to America (Jewish immigration became much more prominent a little while later, and that undoubtedly reinforced and boosted the culinary use of "schmaltz"), but the "excessive sentimentality" meaning seems to have come from Yiddish in the 1930s; thus also, "schmaltzy" developed.         

Indian Ginger Chai

This is NOT ginger tea; that is, ginger boiled in water to make a tea, rather this is black tea with ginger added as an ingredient and the ginger gives the tea a little kick. You can adjust the amount of tea to your own taste preferences, but I like pretty strong tea. Some Indians use a good bit of sugar in this tea (and in spiced chai, called masala chai), and it's too sweet for my taste, so I use less sugar. Ginger tea is common in India, and "I assume" it is also prepared in Pakistan, Bangladesh, Nepal and Sri Lanka, but I don't know that to be a fact or to what degree it might be prepared in any of these countries. 

 

Ingredients (2 to 3 servings):

 

3 teaspoons black tea leaves or 3 or 4 tea bags

1 1/2 inch piece of ginger, peeled and grated

3 cardamom pods, cracked or slit open, or ground up

2 cups water

1/3 cup milk (or to preference) 

4 teaspoons sugar 

In a pan, add the water, ginger and cracked cardamom pods, bring to a boil and adjust the heat to maintain a steady simmer. Simmer for 5 minutes, then add the sugar and gently stir for about 1 minute to dissolve the sugar. Add the tea and simmer another 4 minutes, for strong tea, or just 2 minutes, for milder tea. Add the milk and stir to mix; simmer another 2 minutes, strain the tea into cups. Serve with cookies, cake or something more to the savory Indian side, like samosas. Samosas are pastries stuffed with potatoes and various seasonings, and you can get them at any Indian or Pakistani restaurant (hopefully you have one or more nearby), and they are common throughout the Indian Subcontinent. They are often served with some type of chutney.

WORD HISTORY:

Sparse-This adjective (and adverb, as "sparsely") is related to the main part of "disperse," a Latin derived word borrowed by English from that language, to "spore," a type of reproductive element of some fungi and some plants and other organisms, a word English borrowed from Latin, which had borrowed it from Greek, and it is distantly related to "spread," a word from the Germanic roots of English. "Sparse" goes back to Indo European "sper," which meant "to scatter," with the extended form "spreg/sperg," meaning "to scatter about, to strew, to sow (seed)," and this gave Old Italic "sparg," which gave Latin "spargere," meaning "to scatter (about), to shower or sprinkle, to strew," and a participle form of which was "sparsus," meaning "scattered, strewn about;" thus also, "speckled, spotted, spread about." English borrowed the word from Latin "sparsus" at some point between circa 1730 and circa 1750 (tough to pin this down).  

Savory French Toast

When we think of "French toast," our minds shift to images of golden fried slices of egg and milk soaked bread topped with butter and likely maple syrup, some fresh fruit or perhaps our favorite jam, and maybe even some whipped cream. Well ... forget about that! This is about savory French toast. Food historians have traced the general dish back to the Roman Empire in the 400s A.D. The general idea of soaking bread in milk and egg is known by various names, with "French toast" being the term used in the U.S., seemingly, however, that term was brought to the American colonies by settlers from England in the 1600s, while in France it is known more as "pain perdu," which means "lost bread." The idea with the French term was that this was a way to use up stale bread, rather than wasting it ("losing it"). In England and Britain, in general, the term "French toast" is common, but some also call it "eggy bread" or the more interesting term "Poor Knights of Windsor," named after (in more modern times) retired knights who live at Windsor Castle, and who perform ceremonial duties, although the original term seems to have just been "Poor Knights," which is the same term used for the dish in German speaking areas; that is, as "Arme Ritter." The German term also dates back hundreds of years and it seems too much of a coincidence that the English and German terms developed independently of one another, but which had the original is unknown to me. In England, the "of Windsor" addition to the term came from a group of impoverished knights who were given living quarters at Windsor Castle for their service to the Crown, and who staunchly supported the king or queen, including in their prayers. Eggs, milk and stale bread were cheap and were readily available to provide a filling meal for these men. Why the dish is known as "French toast," is seemingly unknown with any certainty, but one explanation by some is that it was named for a man in England with the family name "French," who served it a lot at his inn a few hundred years ago. Others have speculated that the reputation that had developed for French cooking brought someone in England to dub it "French toast" to make it sound classy.  

 

There are various recipes for savory French toast, but this is my own version and it uses one of my favorite things ... KETCHUP, which is used for some French toast recipes in England and Britain, and I'm calling this an "English recipe." It's best if you use bread that is a couple of days old, but if all you have is fresh bread (especially spongy fresh sandwich type bread), give it a little time in the toaster to firm it up a bit.  

 

Ingredients:

 

4 slices of white bread (preferably a couple of days old, or lightly toasted to firm it up)

3 eggs 

1/4 cup milk

1 teaspoon garlic powder

1 teaspoon onion powder

1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 teaspoon seasoned salt

oil for frying (I use olive oil or sunflower oil)

ketchup for serving 

 

In a cup or small bowl, add the garlic powder, onion powder, ground black pepper and seasoned salt; mix together well, set it aside. Use a shallow dish to add the eggs and milk, and beat until well mixed, but you don't really want this to be frothy. Add 1 or 2 slices of bread (whatever you can fit into the dish you use) and let the bread soak for about 30 seconds, then flip it over to let the other side soak in the egg/milk mixture (if the bread is particularly dry, you might want to give it a little more time in the liquid). Heat a couple of tablespoons of oil in a skillet over medium heat. Sprinkle a little of the dry seasoning mix onto the soaked bread slices. Add a slice or two of the soaked bread to the skillet, seasoned side down, then sprinkle some of the seasoning mix on what is now the top of the bread slices in the skillet. Let the bread fry to set the bottom of the bread (in the meantime, start soaking another slice or two of bread in the egg/milk). When the egg is set on the bottom, turn the bread over and fry the other side. You can always fry the bread longer on one side or the other, if it is not brown enough. Repeat for the remaining bread slices. Serve with some ketchup squirted over the top of each piece of savory French toast, which is a REAL FAVORITE of mine.  

 

WORD HISTORY:

Stout-This word, primarily used as an adjective, but also used as a noun, is related to "stall," the noun forms meaning "place for animals or small business outlet or kiosk," and "avoidance for taking some action," and to the verb form "to lose power, or to come to a stop," to "stalk," the noun for "plant stem," but NOT to the verb form meaning "to follow someone in a stealthy way," to "stilt," and to the main part of "install," with all of these words coming from Germanic, but with "stall," with the meaning "avoidance of taking action," being borrowed from French, which had it from Germanic Frankish, and "install" being a word borrowed by English from French, which had it from Latin, which had it from Germanic. "Stout" goes back to Indo European "stel," which had the notion, "to stand something in place, to put or place." This gave West Germanic "stult" (from one of the Old Germanic forms that likely produced one or more of the related words above, but which is uncertain), meaning "upright, rigid, firm," and thus figurative meanings, "proud, strutting, bold." There are forms in the continental West Germanic languages from long ago, but no Old English form is known, "perhaps" because this form developed after the Anglo-Saxons had gone to Britain? (Of course too, it could have been little used and, thus, unrecorded, and then died out?) Frankish, one of the continental West Germanic languages, had "stolt," and Old French absorbed the form as "estolt," meaning "courageous, bold," but seemingly also at times "foolhardy" (bold to the point of foolishness), and this then became "estout," meaning "courageous, bold, fierce, temperamental." English borrowed the word in the early 1300s as "stout" meaning "bold, courageous, valiant, steadfast, vigorous, strong." Within a few decades, the word had also developed the meaning "powerfully built," but by circa 1800, this had gone to "heavy set, fat, bulky" and has been used as a softened term for "fat in build." The noun use of "stout" for "strong ale" is from the 1670s. 

South Tyrolean Wine Soup: Südtiroler Weinsuppe

The South Tirol (German: Südtirol) is a region of northern Italy with a complicated demographic history, as people who came to be called Germans settled in part of the region about 1500 years ago. The area later was part of the Holy Roman Empire, a confusing title that was really the name used for the Old German Empire (as French philosopher and writer Voltaire said in the mid 1700s, the Holy Roman Empire was "neither holy, Roman, nor an empire"). The area eventually became part of the Habsburg family lands (the Habsburgs were a German noble family with their base in Austria), but after the defeat of Austria-Hungary in World War One, Italy received the South Tirol for having fought on the Allied side during the war. The northern parts of the region were exclusively German for all practical purposes, but the population was more and more mixed (German and Italian) the further south in the region one went, with some areas having Italian majorities. The whole matter was very contentious, but eventually the region, known in Italian as "Trentino Alto Adige," was granted self-governing rights on local matters, but within Italy. German is the language of every day communication for much of the population, except of course in Italian areas, and the German dialect there is a part of Austro-Bavarian.

 

This is not a diet soup, but you can cut some of the fat and calories by substituting canned evaporated milk, which has far less fat and calories than cream does. Remember, the South Tirol is in the Alps, with farming being one of the main parts of the economy. Foods that provide calories have long been important in such communities, but of course, this was generally before there was much thought about heart health or other health concerns. 

 

A good bread for the croutons is "Bauernbrot" (farmer's bread), a sourdough rye bread common in German cultural areas in Europe, that was often taken along when people left those areas and became immigrants to other countries. In larger German immigrant communities, bakeries were founded to supply the immigrants with their customary breads and other baked goods from their homeland. Bauernbrot is available in the U.S. and Canada, and likely other countries too, but as a specialty bread or as an import; thus, if you're interested in buying it, you may have to check around for it. Here in the Greater Cleveland area the number of German bakeries has dwindled, as large scale German immigration is no longer taking place, but we still have "Reinecker's Bakery" in suburban Cleveland, and they make Bauernbrot, as well as some other German and European bread types. Some German breads, usually already sliced, are also imported from Germany, and Dimpflmeier, a German bakery in the Toronto area of Canada, was exporting breads to the U.S., but the pandemic disrupted this, and I'm not sure whether this has resumed or not. (Just a note, Haab's Bakery was a well known German bakery on W. 19th Street here in Cleveland, and it was in business for more than 100 years, but it is now gone.)    

Gewürztraminer is actually a type of grape used to make a type of white wine also called "Gewürztraminer." The grape seems to have begun in the Tramin area of the South Tirol. Tramin is a village there; thus, the second part of the grape name. "Gewürz" in German means "spice, seasoning, flavoring," and the aroma and flavors of the wine earned that description. Gewürztraminer is often dry, but there are somewhat sweeter versions too; so, semi-dry. This recipe uses dry white wine, and while in the South Tirol dry Gewürztraminer is commonly used, of course, you can use other dry white wine.

 

Ingredients:

 

3 cups chicken stock

1 1/2 cups dry white wine (dry Gewürztraminer is common in the South Tirol)

4 egg yolks (from large or extra large eggs)

1 1/2 cups heavy cream (or evaporated milk, or evaporated milk mixed with some heavy cream)

2 or 3 light (in color) rye bread slices, crusts removed and cut into cubes for croutons

3 tablespoons butter

1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1 "good" pinch nutmeg

(Note: I use no salt in this at all, as the chicken stock has some salt, but you can certainly add salt to your own taste.)

 

For the croutons: Melt the butter in a skillet over medium heat. Add the cubed bread and saute, turning the bread pieces until lightly browned. Remove the croutons from the skillet to a plate with paper towels to absorb excess butter.

 

For the soup: In a heavy bottom pan, add the chicken stock and the white wine over medium heat. Let this heat up, but do not boil it, then turn the heat to low. In the meantime, mix together the cream (or milk or cream and milk) and the egg yolks and beat well. Next, use a whisk, add the yolks and cream mixture to the warm stock and wine slowly, whisking constantly to prevent the yolks from scrambling. Keep the soup over low heat, DO NOT BOIL! Sprinkle in the ground cinnamon and the pinch of nutmeg and stir well (the tastes of the spices are NOT supposed to be anywhere near prominent).

Serve with some of the croutons with each serving.   

 

 

 

WORD HISTORY:

Fair-This is for the adjective, NOT the noun meaning "market, festival," which is unrelated. "Fair" has lots of meanings and "fair" goes back to Indo European "pek," with the notion of "to make clean, to make pretty, to tidy up or make suitable." This gave its Old Germanic offspring "fagraz," meaning, "beautiful, pretty, suitable, fitting, proper," which gave Old English (Anglo-Saxon) "fæger," meaning, "beautiful, pleasing," with the extended meanings, "bright, clear (of weather)," and for people, "morally proper, of good character, honest." The spelling then became "fager," and then "feyr," as the "g" sound died out, and finally, "fair." The positive meanings of the word were easily contrasted with negative meanings; thus, "fair" came to be used in competitive events for "play by rules, play honorably;" thus also the expression, "fair play." The idea of "proper and honorable" moved "fair" along to also mean, "unbiased." As I mentioned, it was a word used at times to show contrast, and "perhaps" from the weather use came the usage of "fair" in complexion or hair, contrasted to "swarthy" or dark. The 1300s saw the word also come to mean "not as usual;" thus, "above average," which gradually became our more modern "good, but not great;" "not bad, but not exceedingly good," as in, "How was your day?" "Oh, fair." Modern German has "fair," as in "play by the rules," and it is pronounced very similarly to the English form, from which it was borrowed in the 1800s, but German once had "fagar," meaning "beautiful," which later became "fager/vager," before dying out. German also has the related verb "fegen," originally meaning "to clean," but in modern times meaning the more specific "to sweep." Old Saxon, the Saxon dialect that remained on the Continent after part of the Saxons migrated to Britain and participated in the founding of England, had "fagar," which died out. Old Norse had "fagr," meaning "beautiful," and its descendants Swedish has "fager," meaning "beautiful," Norwegian has "vakkar," "beautiful," Icelandic has "fagur," "beautiful" and Danish has the now dated and high style "fager" meaning "wonderful." The English adverb "fairly," goes back to Old English "fægerlice," which meant "splendidly;" that is, "beautifully" in a figurative usage. As with the adjective form, the adverb has had some twists and turns, as it later meant "beautifully, handsomely," then "honestly, justly," then "totally," but then like with "fair," it became less decisive by meaning "somewhat, to some degree," as in, "you're fairly well off."