I had intended to write about the Christmas markets today, but when I went last night all the snow had melted and it was about 50 degrees. It almost killed my Christmas spirit and was extremely unphotogenic. So I had to rack my brain to come up with something else totally wunderschön and somewhat Christmas-y.
To me nothing says Christmas like shiny s**t (the subtitle of my dissertation) and there is only one place in the center of Munich that can offer enough sparkle to make me happy. And no, it is not Cartier’s or Tiffany’ s, although it is nearby all the shi-shi jewelry stores.
It is the Treasury of the Residenz, which was the palace of the Bavarian rulers since let’s just say the dawn of time (a.k.a the 16th century). There was an earlier 14th century castle on the site, but I am not counting that. The Residenz was built up over the centuries, until it was a massive thing. What I find most amazing is that it was almost completely destroyed during WWII, but through a ton of work has been greatly rebuilt.
Ok, I am not really able to express how amazing the rebuilding was, so here are some before and after pictures.
Before:
The Destroyed Hall of Antiquities
After: Move that Bus!!!!!
Those are people back there so you get a sense of scale
Anyway on to the Shiny Stuff.
As a quick aside I like saying shiny, because it makes me feel like Kaylee on Firefly.
Which is cool, because it means I get to hang out with Captain Tight Pants
The treasury comprises ten rooms with amazing sacred and secular pieces that date back more than a thousand years. Including some things that are very important for my dissertation and some stuff that is just plain awesome. Wait! I mean SHINY!
At a party this weekend I was introduced to the Czech/German (but mostly Czech) film from 1973 called Drei Haselnüsse für Aschenbrödel in German and Tři oříšky pro Popelku in Czech—and you thought German was a tough language. For the English title they try to avoid talking about nuts and call it Three Wishes for Cinderella. Like It’s a Wonderful Life, it is shown in Germany every year at Christmas time, so everyone knows the movie. It is seventies-tastic and rather kitsch, but…
First wish: No more sheep shirts
I kinda love it. Although I am ashamed to admit it, I love movies based on fairy tales and Cinderella is one of my favorites. It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to say that I am somewhat of a Cinderella movie connoisseur. I secretly (although not so secretly anymore) watch the following:
1. Rodgers and Hammerstein’s musical of Cinderella (the one with Julia Andrews not Leslie Ann Warren [yuck])
2. Disney’s animated version. Although it only lasts about 25 minutes because I skip all the annoying mice bits.
3. The 1976 musical “The Slipper and the Rose”, where Richard Chamberlain sings even though you wish he wouldn’t.
4. Jim Henson’s “Hey Cinderella” (probably my favorite)
5. Ever After (which is possibly the worst version) where Leonardo da Vinci is inexplicably Drew Barrymore’s BFF.
6. And I am sure I am forgetting some…
Anyway I think the Czech version just beat them all. Why? Funny you should ask, because I have a list.
1. Cinderella is not such a goody two-shoes. She talks back to the step-mother and purposefully covers her and the step-sister with ashes. She also holds her own with the prince.
2. It is set in winter, my favorite season.
3. She actually interacts with the prince more than once and leaves the ball because he can’t figure out who she is even after she gives him a bunch of hints. [Note: The Prince is even more incredibly stupid than usual.]
4. The animals (and there are a lot of them) fortunately do not talk. Yay, no squeaky voices!
5. The step-mother’s hat:
Really, I don't know what could compete with this.
So now the plot, since it is a little different:
Part 1. Cinderella’s household is preparing for a visit from the royal family. Step-mother gets ticked off at Cinderella and forces her to separate grains as a punishment. Fortunately Cinderella is like this (I am crossing my fingers) with animals, so some doves/pigeons (it is the same word in German for both birds) help sort them out for her while C sneaks out on her horse (the last thing she has left from her deceased dad). Strangely enough the Prince and his friends have wandered off into the woods to goof off and kill some animals. C keeps the prince from shooting a deer by chucking a snowball at him. Prince and crew run after her, to discover it is just some girl. She runs from them, steals the prince’s horse (which only he can ride) so she can get back to her horse.
Part 2. Another servant asks C what she wants from town when he goes to pick up cloth for step-mom and sis. She says whatever falls in front of your nose. Thank God, the prince [after escaping his parents who want him to marry and taking off a really terrifying gold hat] shoots a nest out of a tree which lands in the lap of the servant who is driving a sleigh below it. Ta-daa three hazelnuts were inside the nest and the servant takes it back for C. Later, Cinderella, who is tired of her step-mom, wishes she could be like her friend the owl and leave the house/yard. Ta-daahh one hazelnut opens up to reveal the ugliest hunting outfit you have ever seen.
Magically her hair gets shorter too!
She goes off, meets the prince and his entourage again and wins a shooting contest. Her reward? A ring, obviously. [eyeroll].
Part 3. Time for the ball! Ta-daaa second hazelnut produces a ball gown. Meanwhile, at the ball the prince is bored with a bunch of ugly girls and is exhausted from dancing with “Little Rosie” (which apparently is everyone’s favorite part)
Because fat people are funny
C shows up. Prince is enamored and wants to know her name. She pretty much thinks, “You moron! You have met me twice already.” She gives him a hint in the form of a riddle. He continues to be stupid, so she leaves and loses her shoe as she runs to get her horse and high-tail it outta there.
Part 4. Prince rides off after her. He gets to her house, but can’t find her among the servants. Step mom and sis arrive home and step-mom figures out it was C that was at the ball. She ties up C and steals her dress. She then gives the dress and cape (how fortunate) to her daughter to wear in order to fool the prince. The prince, however, wants to try the shoe on the step-sister. That would never work with “ol’ beefy feet” sis, so the mom takes off with her in a sleigh and the prince rides after them.
Uh oh! What will happen next? What could be in the last hazelnut? You will never guess.
If you want to watch the end of the dubbed German version is it on youtube:
There is also a fabulously horrible version that the BBC produced, where they just took the Czech film and had a narrator tell you what they were saying. He doesn’t even bother doing different voices! [Miffed sound!]
Or if you want to learn about how they made it and other silly facts, check out this fanpage.
Now if only I could have a hazelnut that contained a finished dissertation…
Sorry it couldn’t be helped. Continuing the Christmas theme, on today’s menu is Stollen. (Although not really, since I ate the last slice I had last night). Stollen is a bread-like cake with dried fruit, nuts, or marzipan that is topped with powdered sugar. It is traditionally sold around Christmas time. Supposedly the loaf shape was meant to look like the swaddled baby Jesus.
Ahhhhhh!!!! You hacked into the Baby Jesus!!!!!! He is not the bread yet; wait until he is in his 30s!!!
I sorta wish I had not read the part about looking like the baby Jesus, because now every time I see a nativity I will get hungry for some German fruit cake. German, mind you! Not that horrible stuff we have in America with the candied fruit that is soaked in booze.
The most famous Stollen comes from Dresden and there is even a Stollenfest there. The festival began in 1730 when Augustus II the Elector of Saxony order the creation of a Stollen big enough to feed all his subjects.
The red smoke must be coming from the kitchens as they try to make the huge Christmas cake. Also his sword is sheathed because there is no way that could cut through the Stollen
The bakers created a special oven and a humongous knife was fashioned. Unfortunately, the crust was really hard and the insides were rather uncooked. Nevertheless it was for the subjects, so who cares! The tradition of giant Stollen is still alive today. The biggest was made in Dresden in 2000 and weighed 4,200 kilos.
Since this is Germany, in recent years Dresden has elected a Stollenmädchen, whose “primary role is to fulfil prestigious tasks in connection with the preparation of the Dresden Stollen Festival, the representation of Dresden`s baker and pastry-chef trade and the marketing of the stollen. In this function, she travels across Germany, visits closely related towns, Christmas fairs and other events, and appears on TV and radio shows promoting the German “Christmas capital” Dresden.”
You can visit their website and see pictures of the “Stollen Girl.” The festival takes place tomorrow so you better start making your travel plans.
If you can’t manage that, you should at least know something of the history of the Stollen. Like all good stories, it includes a pope:
In the fifteenth century during Advent bakers were only allowed to use oil and not butter. In Saxony (northeast of Bavaria) oil was hard to come by so they had to use water or oil made from turnips (yuck). This meant that the Christmas cakes were hard and tasteless. Electoral Prince Ernst and his brother, Duke Albrecht, decided to change all of this and wrote the pope asking him to allow bakers to use butter during the fasting time of Advent. The pope gave in to their request and sent a letter, known as “butter-letter”, to Dresden. In that letter he had declared that richer ingredients were allowed. In return, the Dresden Stollen bakers had to pay a fine. The money was used, for example, for the construction of the Freiberg Cathedral.
So there you have it. If you don’t like something about the Catholic church, just get some prince to write a letter. While you are waiting–the pope did not give in right away–how about a slice of Stollen?
It’s the most wonderful time of the year…in Munich that is. Although Munich is better known as the home of Oktoberfest, I think of it more as Christmas Town. Here is the documentary I shot last year to record my first experience of Munich in December.
As you can see, I have a little more color in my cheeks (a very little) and I have gained a considerable amount of weight since then. Speaking of gaining weight, Advent Calendars.
Now if you grew up in the States you were lucky if you got an advent calendar with chocolate imported from Germany. The problem with those that made it to the US was that the chocolate was pretty crappy. Usually it was just some tasteless chocolate poured into a plastic sheet of twenty-four molds in the shapes of different things which was inserted into the cardboard container with the little doors. Nevertheless, as a child I thought these were pretty amazing.
[Fisher residence, 1990] Sue: Look, I got a piece of chocolate shaped like a bell and I can eat it before breakfast!!!
These childhood experiences in no way prepared me for REAL German advent calendars. I was first astonished by the sheer variety.
Ahhh, which one???
This photo is rather blurry because I was being jostled by a woman trying to grab the last type of one of these before this other person did. I believe there is a saying in Germany used to express that someone feels pure, innocent joy: Wie ein Erwachsene im Adventskalendarsladen. Ok, so maybe not, but there should be because these are pretty amazing. Instead of plastic chocolate you get entire truffles. Really, who does not want to wake up in the morning and get a truffle just for waking up?
So here is the one I selected on the grounds of price, type of chocolates, and being able to carry it home on a crowded subway. Look how artfully I arranged the photo.
Note the pointy ends with which to jab people on the subway that were in my way
The first day I got chocolate with nougat and amarena (with cherry not just flavor) filling.
Tasted better than it looks
Now you might say, aren’t you leaving on the 13th to go home? What are you going to do, take the calendar on the plane?
No, of course not! I have a cunning plan. In fact, it is as cunning as a fox who’s just been appointed Professor of Cunning at Oxford University. I am going to eat two a day as my countdown to going home.
My bologna has a first name. It’s L-E-B-E-R. My bologna has a second name. It’s K-A-umlaut-S-E.
It almost tricks you into thinking it is yummy bread, but then you realize it is ground up meat bits. Eww
Ok, the second part doesn’t really fit the song. Still, thick slices of bologna is essentially what Leberkäse is. It is also one of the most common sandwich fillers in Munich. I was late getting to the restaurant/bakery of the Conde Nast building today, so it was the only type of sandwich left. Shiver! Strangely enough, I am not a big fan of something that consists of ground-up corned beef, pork, bacon, and onions which is then baked in a bread pan. Nevertheless, it is filling and won’t kill you. Well maybe it will give you heart disease if you eat too much, but that would take some time.
Broken into its parts the name literally mean liver cheese. Now aren’t you hungry? According to a reliable source, linguists believe that the etymology of the word either involves the Middle High German word lab (to clot) or the word laib (loaf), and the Slavic root quas (feast). I am going to take the clot version of the story.
Maybe they should advertise it this way:
[Small boy fishing on a dock]
Boy: (sings) Because Leberkäse has a way/of causing blood clots that kill you/but not today
Yes, I am aware that it is Friday. Yesterday morning I was stuck waiting in line and the Kreisverwaltungsreferat (say that three times fast) to be told that I didn’t need to get my new residence pass after all. Three hours well spent. Still, I didn’t want to miss out talking about one of my favorite paintings in Munich, which happens to be in one of my least favorite museums, the Neue Pinakothek.
So here it is in all its glory:
Hieronymus Jobs im Examen
Painted by Johann Peter Hasenclever (I have decided that Hasenclever is going to be my pen name) in the middle of the nineteenth century, it illustrates a moment from Carl Arnold Kortum’s satirical epic poem, Life, Opinions, and Deeds of Hieronymus Jobs the Candidate. Hasenclever painted another version of this scene which is in the Crocker Art Museum. If you are like me, you have no idea where the Crocker Art Museum is. Never fear. I looked it up for you. It is in Sacramento, CA. I guess this goes to show Sacramento is not all bad.
Since I do not want to really research this painting, I will rely on the Crocker’s curators. “In the episode depicted here, the hard-drinking Jobs is tested on the subject of bishops. Mistaking the examiners’ intent, he describes the drink of that name rather than the ecclesiastical authority, much to their consternation.” They go on to write, “though the poem is not familiar to modern audiences, Hasenclever captures the varying reactions of the examiners, making his painting a study of universal human emotions.”
I would agree that this painting has a universal appeal, but I would go further and argue that this should be on every graduate student’s wall/carrel while they are studying for their qualifying exams. Why? As my friend and admin assistant at my university said, it is much better to imagine that your professors are wearing powdered wigs than to imagine them naked.
I think ol’ Hasenclever was particularly “smart as a bunny” for capturing the range of expressions one sees during the usual qualifying examination.
Let’s break this down:
1. Hieronymus Jobs (at the far right): Notice that he is wearing his best clothes. We all do this hoping that they will be distracted from our pathetic answers. Also note the open-mouthed, blank stare. I am pretty sure this was my expression during 89.4 percent of my exam. Finally, his right hand starts gesturing as if this will help the answers come more quickly.
2. We next have the rotund gentlemen in the seat closest to poor Jobs. He has obviously had a couple of drinks himself this morning and is mildly enjoying this.
3. Man staring out towards the viewer. That is not a look of surprise caused by ol’ Jerry’s answers. No, after years of faculty meetings and student presentations his face has stuck that way. (Don’t feel bad. His mother warned him)
4. Man with hand over his face on the other side of the table: He is not being thoughtful. He hopes to appear that way, but what he is really doing is suppressing a belch.
5. Two gentlemen in the background conversing. They are trying to decide where to go to lunch when this “damn exam is over.”
6. Worried looking man. He knew he had something to do this morning, but has forgot what it was. This makes him anxious. What he doesn’t realize is that what he had to do this morning was attend Jerry Jobs’ exam.
7. The man standing to their right. He has been told his double chin is less noticeable if he stands thusly and therefore is concentrating on his posture and not the exam.
8. The other man on the viewer’s side of the table. He is trying to come up with some brilliant further question or remark about Jobs’ answer to amaze his fellow faculty.
9. Guy with the dark wig behind him. He is looking forward to chiming in with some nasty (also brilliant) add-on to his neighbors snarky comment.
10. Man in the back with his chin in his hand. He is waiting for those other two to say something so he can take Jobs’ side. Not because he cares about this student who is obviously going to fail, but because he can’t stand those other two bozos.
11. Man standing in the very back. He has learned to sleep with his eyes open. (A skill we should all learn! I am off to try that now.)
When I got off the plane in Boston last week, I saw a large American flag hanging in Logan airport. This made me tear up a bit. After all it had been more than a year since I was last in the country of my birth. I started thinking about all the wonderful things about America: spacious skies, amber waves of grain, and purple mountain majesties. I then turned the corner to move through passport control. The record of “America, the Beautiful” in my head screeched to a halt. There in front of me was a line of epic proportions. I had been on a seven hour flight after a three hour delay. Now I would have to wait another hour and a half to have Homeland Security stamp my passport. No matter how many times the inspirational “Welcome to America” video cycled through, I could not recapture my patriotic feelings.
During the week in New England I experienced a mild form of culture shock. Coming back ‘home’ to Munich I decided to conduct a very scientific study as to which country is better. Both countries have done some pretty awful things, so certain categories are off the table. It is mostly going to be New England v. Munich since that is where I have recently spent the most time. The categories are arranged in no particular order and I have not decided the outcome in advance.
OK, here goes:
1. Family: They are in the States. Point America
2. Fall: New England in the fall can’t be beat. Point America
3. Drivers: Needs no explanation. Point Germany
4. iPhone plans: My German plan is almost 50 dollars less and it is great. Point Germany
5. Free public wifi: Very hard to find in Munich. Point America
6. Coffee: Even though New England had a Dunkin’ Donuts every 100 yards, the coffee in Germany is still better. However, you can get coffee at all hours. Draw.
Hazelnut, Milk, One Sugar=Jet Slap Cure
7. Yarn Stores: Point Germany
8. Wine: Even mediocre wine in the US is outrageously expensive. Point Germany
9. Pharmacies: Walgreens and CVS open 24 hours, 7 days a week. Point America
Look at all the stuff I can buy at 11pm!!!
10. Consumer culture: Look at all the crap I could buy in the US in the picture above. Point Germany.
11. TV: Almost every show on German TV is just dubbed American programs. Point America
12. Produce and organic foods. Point Germany
13. Coming into and out of the country. No problems getting back into Germany even with expired residence pass. Point Germany.
OK, let’s tally up the scores.
America: 5
Germany: 7
And it is Germany for the win. Ger-man-y! Ger-man-y! Ger-man-y! (It is so much easier to chant U-S-A, therefore America gets an additional point)
HA! We’re back! (Car Talk reference #1). I thought I would write a new post instead of having you read tons of classic blog posts. And by classic we mean old. (Car Talk reference #2. Can you tell what I listened to all morning?) I am still suffering from Jet Slap (def: a bitch slap administered by time), so I thought I would do something easy. For me, that means making snarky comments about blurry pictures I took around town.
You got orange soda in my coke! You got coke in my orange soda! Together they taste like crap!
Oh Mezzo Mix, with your stupid slogan, “Cola kisses Orange”, what can I say about you? A lot actually. Especially because I missed Food Friday. First of all, Mezzo Mix is the Coca-Cola brand of something known generically as Spezi. Spezi is just orange soda mixed with regular cola. A reliable source reports that “due to its thirst-quenching qualities, it is particularly popular in ski resorts and mountain huts, where it is often served in amounts of half a litre. By contrast, it is hardly ever seen in Vienna.” I think this is because the Viennese are not crazy. The Pepsi brand is called Schwip-Schwap, which is about 95.3 times more fun to say than Mezzo Mix. Try it! Come on, I know you want to.
What you shouldn’t try is Spezi. I think it tastes gross. Some flavors just shouldn’t come together. For example, orange and toothpaste. Imagine this sign with the man who represents cola replaced with a toothbrush covered with toothpaste and the blond woman (i.e. orange soda) still kissing it, and you would feel the same nauseous feeling I do when I look at this ad. (Don Draper, between drinks and sleeping with his mistresses, just let me know that I will never have a career in advertising.)
Refrigerator Heaven?
The chain of electronics stores here in Germany is called Saturn. They sell printers, computers, music, household appliances, etc. Their spokesperson is Alice Cooper, which makes perfect sense to me. However, I don’t think they are really tapping into to his full potential. This is an ad for a washing machine on a bus shelter near where I live. Yes, this washer is pretty cool with its super fast programs, varied washing cycles, and life-time warranty. But I would be more impressed if it showed Alice Cooper (birth name: Vincent Damon Furnier) doing the wash after one of the stage shows. The copy could read, “Look, it gets out fake blood, guillotine grease, and electric chair scorch marks!” Or, “It gets the whiskey out of the lace.” (Take that Don!)
Scarves Optional
This is a Colorforms-like ad on the windows of a salon near me. I am pretty sure the guy in the back is saying, “Do you really want your hair to look like that? It kinda looks like you are one of those poor schmucks the Weather Channel sends out into storms to report that it is indeed windy and miserable.”
Sometimes on the U-Bahn I see a group of teenage German boys each with their hair styled in a similar fashion. Although, I am pretty sure that they text each other in the morning to make sure nobody’s hair is pointing in the same direction.
P.S. Can someone please get me Colorforms for Christmas. Their slogan is “Even more fun today than when we were kids!”, which makes me wonder what these adults are using them for. According to the company, Colorforms are “playful, imaginative, creative, open-ended, approachable, clean, and easy.” And more importantly, “reusable, repositionable, and forgiving.“
Since I am about to board a plane for a week/long trip in the US, I thought instead of writing about a specific place here, I would write about all of central Munich. Why? Because it is so damn clean. Also because it will be a week before I am surrounded by this level of cleanliness again, I wanted to celebrate our fair city.
I first thought Munich was kept this way by some sort of elves who totally lost out when they were assigning elf jobs.
(Ok! Listen up people. Group A, you guys get to save Middle Earth. Group B, you’re helping Santa. Group C, get to baking cookies, especially those grasshoppers–those are delicious. Group D, uh…let’s see what’s left…um…go and keep Munich tidy.)
But then I started seeing who is really responsible, people like these men.
Not only is he washing the bus stop shelter, he has to put up with the “advice” of this woman. I salute you, sir.
Now that I have made very clear that the back pack cannot speak, I will speak for it. First, I want to defend its honor. It is not an item for nerds or school children as it might be in the States. Oh no, many a Municher regardless of age carries one. And, yes I know I don’t look as professional as I would if I was carrying some other type of bag, but my shoulders are not grossly misaligned and my back doesn’t kill me. I think this is a fair trade.
Furthermore, this backpack is essential for life here in Munich. Let me explain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.
1. Mesh side pockets. Don’t be fooled into thinking these are for water bottles. No sir! When on your back, the one on your right side is for your umbrella. This allows you quick access to this much-needed item for those rainy Munich days (aka more than half of the year). The other pocket should be devoted to baguettes, which you stop to get on your way home from work. The cinching strap above to pocket is not only there to make the bag smaller, but also to hold the top part of your loaf of bread in place.
2. Antiquated cell phone-shaped pocket: Excellent container for Altoids tins, which you have to import into Germany if you want them.
3. Center zipper pocket: Holds the necessary sweaters and scarves to make cold reading rooms bearable.
4. Elastic bands attached to straps so that you can buckle it across your chest: Are you kidding!? I am not that much of a dork. They are great to play with when you are waiting for the subway.
Sadly, right after I purchased my backpack it was gravely injured. I took it with me on my road trip around Burgundy with my friend K. Trying to save money I threw some extra bread and butter packs into the bag for lunch. As we got horribly lost on our aborted trip to Conques (France is much bigger that you might think), I forgot about the sustenance in my rucksack. I returning to the hotel later that night, I reached into the front pocket to find my iPod. It and everything else was covered in butter.
I soon learned that you cannot get butter out of a book bag. For many months I went around smelling like rancid butter. But it was worth it, since I learned a valuable lesson…
“Rancid butter smell is truth, truth rancid butter smell,” – that is all
But I Don't Like Beer: Life in Munich 