Moving around from country to country introduces you to local delicacies, different methods, ways and styles of cooking, new dishes and combinations, and ingredients you have never heard of. It is the same when you go on holiday, but living in a place means you are exposed to this for a longer period of time and can really spend time picking up those recipes embedded in the genes of the local people, handed down from generation to generation. This 'education' in the inventive ways people utilise the ingredients available to them is fantastic, espeically for those really interested in food, such as me.
When I look back on our time in Germany and Spain, my thoughts are filled with memories of the local delicacies; the tastes bringing back so much more than the dish itself: the surroundings, the company, the atmosphere, how I felt at that time. It's exactly the same I guess as those tastes of holidays, not only are you eating something different and new, but when you think back to that dish, you also recall the country, the city or village. You reminisce not only about the taste and the smell of the dish, but the environment you had it, too. Whether it be freshly caught grilled sardines eaten in a beach side cafe in Portugal, a humongous gelato taking the edge off the heat in Rome, or a strawberry-filled waffle eaten in the car, providing new energy mid route from Germany to England; the mention of that food is almost like a photo in the way it brings back to the mind the situation where it was eaten.
When I look back on our time in Germany and Spain, my thoughts are filled with memories of the local delicacies; the tastes bringing back so much more than the dish itself: the surroundings, the company, the atmosphere, how I felt at that time. It's exactly the same I guess as those tastes of holidays, not only are you eating something different and new, but when you think back to that dish, you also recall the country, the city or village. You reminisce not only about the taste and the smell of the dish, but the environment you had it, too. Whether it be freshly caught grilled sardines eaten in a beach side cafe in Portugal, a humongous gelato taking the edge off the heat in Rome, or a strawberry-filled waffle eaten in the car, providing new energy mid route from Germany to England; the mention of that food is almost like a photo in the way it brings back to the mind the situation where it was eaten.
When I reminisce about the tastes I crave, the images of our short time of life spent in that country also pop up into my mind.
From Munich, the foods I miss most are: lebkuchen (those spiced Christmas biscuits I have mentioned more than once before...), bretze (soft doughy twists sprinkled with salt, and which are nothing like pretzels), warm roasted almonds coated in cinnamon and sugar (Gebrannte Mandeln), and creamy cottage cheese like no other country seems able to produce. And I can't not mention Strudel - both Apfel (apple) and quark.
I have to admit that our initial experience with Bretze was not a good one - in other words, we didn’t like them and wondered what all the fuss was about. We could not understand why so many people walked around eating them, and why they were for sale absolutely everywhere, from bakeries to supermarkets to stalls on the street. But we slowly grew to love them, almost to the point of being addicted. Their availability at every bakery was fantastic: on our long bike rides, we would stop for a coffee and share a freshly baked - and often still warm fresh from the oven - bretze, which would provide us with energy to carry on and without experiencing the sugar high of the cakes and pastries that called out to us (and boy did they call sometimes…). Although often available as butterbretze (sliced in half and buttered then put back together again to give a butter sandwich) we liked them plain.
The Gebrannte Mandeln were a saviour in the winter (well, what we thought of as winter back then before Montreal-winter!), when walking around town, buying a small paper cone filled with the warm almonds, my freezing hands cupped around the parcel.
I should mention Wurst, even though I do not miss them in the slightest. I have never been a fan of sausages and this was a major disadvantage in the German cuisine world. But T misses them, especially weisswurst, along with Weiss bier and sweet mustard. He's not exactly upset about the lack of cottage cheese outside of Germany...
I have to admit that our initial experience with Bretze was not a good one - in other words, we didn’t like them and wondered what all the fuss was about. We could not understand why so many people walked around eating them, and why they were for sale absolutely everywhere, from bakeries to supermarkets to stalls on the street. But we slowly grew to love them, almost to the point of being addicted. Their availability at every bakery was fantastic: on our long bike rides, we would stop for a coffee and share a freshly baked - and often still warm fresh from the oven - bretze, which would provide us with energy to carry on and without experiencing the sugar high of the cakes and pastries that called out to us (and boy did they call sometimes…). Although often available as butterbretze (sliced in half and buttered then put back together again to give a butter sandwich) we liked them plain.
The Gebrannte Mandeln were a saviour in the winter (well, what we thought of as winter back then before Montreal-winter!), when walking around town, buying a small paper cone filled with the warm almonds, my freezing hands cupped around the parcel.
I should mention Wurst, even though I do not miss them in the slightest. I have never been a fan of sausages and this was a major disadvantage in the German cuisine world. But T misses them, especially weisswurst, along with Weiss bier and sweet mustard. He's not exactly upset about the lack of cottage cheese outside of Germany...
In Sevilla, Jamon Iberico was the culinary highlight for us; and when wound around bread sticks we found it especially moorish, and a plateful of the thinly sliced delicacy was soon demolished. Other favourites of ours were Bacaloa (smoked cod) served with a garlic-tomato sauce; Espinacas (spinach with chickpeas) and Manchego cheese. Tostada – toasted bread drizzled with olive oil and fresh tomato pulp – was the best breakfast dish I think I have ever come across!
I loved the local Jerez (sherry - and one make I have just discovered I can buy out here - yey!!), and the 'cerveza' (beer) was a hit with T.
We discovered Tostada at a garage of all places. On one of our many road trips (probably to Portugal) we stopped for coffee and breakfast en route and ordered this with the drinks. We never looked back and this was the firm staple on any road trip from then on! It took many attempts to find similar bread rolls at the shop to enable T to have it at home, but eventually we succeeded. Happy breakfast days!
And I couldn't talk about Spain without mentioning tapas - a fantastic way to sample a whole array of new foods! You could order a number of dishes and it didn't matter if there was something you tasted and decided you didn't like, as it was only a small amount, and you could move on to the next dish. You could just point at the menu and not have to think too much about what was about to be served...such as the time I left the suspect looking pigs ear or whatever it was to T and my brother. If only the time I had ordered Provincial Fish it had been a tapas portion - on my first mouthful I discovered the white fish was covered with a toffee-type sauce, with added apricots and prunes for that not-needed extra sweetness...
I loved the local Jerez (sherry - and one make I have just discovered I can buy out here - yey!!), and the 'cerveza' (beer) was a hit with T.
We discovered Tostada at a garage of all places. On one of our many road trips (probably to Portugal) we stopped for coffee and breakfast en route and ordered this with the drinks. We never looked back and this was the firm staple on any road trip from then on! It took many attempts to find similar bread rolls at the shop to enable T to have it at home, but eventually we succeeded. Happy breakfast days!
And I couldn't talk about Spain without mentioning tapas - a fantastic way to sample a whole array of new foods! You could order a number of dishes and it didn't matter if there was something you tasted and decided you didn't like, as it was only a small amount, and you could move on to the next dish. You could just point at the menu and not have to think too much about what was about to be served...such as the time I left the suspect looking pigs ear or whatever it was to T and my brother. If only the time I had ordered Provincial Fish it had been a tapas portion - on my first mouthful I discovered the white fish was covered with a toffee-type sauce, with added apricots and prunes for that not-needed extra sweetness...
It's quite challenging thinking about British foods and dishes along this theme, as I took them as a given, normal; and therefore didn't appreciate them as much as I would as if I were introduced to them now.
There are the ones from my childhood: iced buns, costing just 20p from the local bakery, eating them with mum and my gran (and then leaving half of mine for later only for the dog to steal it...). Puffed up crisp and airy Yorkshire puddings stealing the limelight from the beef on my plate of roast dinner on Sunday evenings, the smell of it cooking signalling the end of the weekend and the prospect of school the next morning. Then there are the comfort dishes: baked beans or cheese on toast (no where else does a baked bean quite like Britain does). A double chocolate chip muffin accompanied by a hot chocolate consumed on a Wednesday lunchtime between a morning of History lectures and an afternoon shopping for an outfit to wear out that evening during my time at university. A bacon butty made with proper thick cut, smoked back bacon that hasn't been pumped full of water, being a very welcome breakfast following a night spent trying to sleep in a leaking tent in rainy Wales...
There are the ones from my childhood: iced buns, costing just 20p from the local bakery, eating them with mum and my gran (and then leaving half of mine for later only for the dog to steal it...). Puffed up crisp and airy Yorkshire puddings stealing the limelight from the beef on my plate of roast dinner on Sunday evenings, the smell of it cooking signalling the end of the weekend and the prospect of school the next morning. Then there are the comfort dishes: baked beans or cheese on toast (no where else does a baked bean quite like Britain does). A double chocolate chip muffin accompanied by a hot chocolate consumed on a Wednesday lunchtime between a morning of History lectures and an afternoon shopping for an outfit to wear out that evening during my time at university. A bacon butty made with proper thick cut, smoked back bacon that hasn't been pumped full of water, being a very welcome breakfast following a night spent trying to sleep in a leaking tent in rainy Wales...
From Montreal the great food of note we have tasted so far - and one which will be greatly missed when we eventually leave - would have to be the bagel. It has become our weekend ritual to walk to the shop and buy a couple for breakfast/lunch/both breakfast and lunch. Also iced cider - I had bought a bottle for T for Christmas, but then we went to the SAQ (alcohol shop) a week before Christmas Day and they were offering samples. We tried some and both really liked it (phew!), but then I had to act as though I wasn't too interested and put T off buying a bottle there and then...
There are a number of local dishes we have been told about which we have not tried yet, so I am sure we will be adding to this list as time goes by, and hopefully the memories that accompany them will bring back wonderful times spent in this city...