- The Peristroika Pastry
Soon after Gorbatschov a little cookbook
appeared on the market for a "Peristroika Party". There were receipes for a seven-course
Russian meal in it, including a pastry in the form of the hammer and scythe. I
got some other crazy symbolic cookers together in Kiel, and we prepared the meal.
The pastry was an oven-sized pie-crust filled with all sorts of goodies: ground
meat, eggs, veggies, etc. and was about 4 inches thick. I got it all built except
for the top, only to discover that the receipe was incorrect and there was not
enough pastry. I had already colored it red with my last drops of red food coloring,
and it was Saturday afternoon, which in Germany means no shopping until Monday.
I was forced to make more pastry for the cover for the hammer, and dyed it blue.
It tasted just as good, but was surely instrumental in the dissolution of
the Soviet Union years later. Picture to follow if I ever remember to scan it.
After the Charlotte Russe and Vodka course we lay back for some major metabolizing
watching Jürgen's slides of his Transsiberian-Railroad tour. I swear
he photographed every birch tree between Moskau and Novosibirsk, but somehow with
all that food and alcohol, it was very soothing, watching all those slides of
trees go by...
- Cupcake Maniac
I ice cupcakes symbolically
every chance I get. Norwegian flags for the delegation of Norwegians coming
for an inspection of the company.
Stars and Stripes for the English boss who
dared set a meeting on July 4.
Two M & Ms adorning each of 46 cupcakes
for Micha M.'s 46th birthday.
- The Broken Basket
Found this
one in a cooking magazine, describing a basket woven out of spaghettis as a serving
dish. I was having the in-laws over for the first time in the new apartment in
Berlin, wanted to demonstrate that we are still entwined, even if apart. Spent
hours weaving slightly cooked spaghetti into a basket and a lid, baked it hard
in the oven. Cooked up a fabulous noodle dish with veal meatballs. Every one was
seated at the table, I put the basket on the serving dish, spooned in the hot
noodles with sauce, and the entire thing collapsed all over the place. So I scraped
the edible bits together, put it in a normal bowl, and have never bought another
of those magazines since.
- Thanksgiving
A friend of mine, John
Campbell, and I have taken it upon ourselves to continue the American Thanksgiving
tradition in the diaspora. Only problem is, we have violently different ideas
of what constitutes a proper stuffing for the turkey. So one year we are at my
house, the other at his house, and the host gets to determine if we eat proper
turkey stuffing with sage or yucky stuffing with giblets. One year my turkey
man wasn't able to get me the 14-pound turkey that I had ordered, so he got me
two 7-pound ones. No, you can't add turkeys, but anyway, we made both kinds of
stuffing that year, our guests tried both and decided: yes. They liked both. Barbarian
Germans....
Anyway, we go all out on the cranberry relish, the succotash,
the yams. When I make the yams I make them right and put marshmellows on top just
before they are done and grill it in the oven while the gravy is being made. John
thinks this is really awful, but the kids love it! I make my grandmother's clover-leaf
rolls, and we both bake a pie. John even goes to the trouble of makeing a mincemeat
pie some years. You don't quite understand why this is a problem until you hear
that the recipe begins: "Take a can of mincemeat filling..." and realize that
neither the German stores nor the Turkish groceries carry cans like this. Lima
beans you can get at the Turkish place, but mincemeat - forget it.