Two fiascoes and a frozen fake-out

Out of fear that I will not be able to maintain the energy to start blogging, I will save updates on the last couple of months for a better time; (that is, when you call me, or when I have had coffee and my fingers are willing to fly over the keys) but I have promised my mother that I would write about the holiday desserts this year, and it is bad form to break promises so soon after the day of new resolutions. So here is my story.

Anyone who does not read my sister's blog in tandem with mine does not necessarily know that she has become quite the gourmet. I'm rather ashamed to admit that she has, on more than one occasion, saved me from flopping into my bed with an empty and growling stomach by offering me a meal of "planet salad" or Thai Mahi at the end of the day, as I am too exhausted to brown and munch my quick-cook pot stickers. So when Thanksgiving loomed on the calendar and she began rehearsing her menu of honey roasted duck, and other out of this world delicacies I found myself torn between the desire to be helpful and the knowledge of my domestic ineptitude. I offered to make dessert. I culled through some recipes and (skipping over Pumpkin Pie in favor of something more exotic) landed on a Pushing Daisies-inspired Pear Gruyere Pie. Then began the problems.

First, the fridge ate my butter. Second, I forgot that a one-serving-sized blender will not be able to manage the ingredients for a whole (five-serving) pie. Third, Sarah does gourmet cooking: not baking. Therefore she doesn't have unbleached white flour, or fine sugar or anything but sea salt. And Fourth, I'm a horrible cook.
When my slightly overly browned, wheat flour crust concoction had finally cooled enough for me to foist it upon my fellow celebrants, I was simply relieved that there was plenty of coffee and cookies homemade by Tacy (who is an excellent baker and cook) to erase the taste of my mess from our mouths. Fiasco number one.
For Christmas, I was inspired by the untasted Guinness in my fridge, and chocolate all around, and the realization that a cake does not require a pie-crust (which I will slowly work up to making again). So Chocolate-Stout cake was the goal. One would hope that after thanksgiving I would be advised that I should furnish my own baking soda, sugar, etc., but I had again forgotten (I had managed to remember the flour this time) so after countless trips back and forth from my apartment to Sarah's kitchen, a close call with chocolate getting too hot too fast, I managed to spatula the batter into the two pans and stick them in the oven. Then I attempted the icing. The problem with time, is that it cannot be hurried, and so when I tried to squeeze the 2 hour prep time for the icing into 20 minutes, I ended up making a chocolate cake with chocolate sauce. At least it was edible this time. Fiasco number two.

Our New Year's celebration widened from the familial three (Sarah, Zeb and me) to eight. My easily-intimidatable nature suggested that I not test the truth of the "third time's a charm" adage. Our dessert was Trader Joe's frozen Tiramisu. It was delicious. If Lisa hadn't been with me when I bought it, I had been less honest, and the world didn't know about fiascoes one and two, no one would have even known that I am not a world class dessert artist. Thank goodness the next holiday is Valentine's because I sure do know how to pick out good chocolate, and can make drinking chocolate like nobody's business. Small steps away from disaster, I suppose.

For Amy

I just recieved an email from my dear friend Amy, in which she recalled a visit to Bavaria just before Easter. After reading it I realized that the festivities here as I described them can only be understood if you have indeed visited Germany for the holiday. So I decided I would include the only two pictures I remembered to take to commemorate the holiday. The first is the Easter egg tree which I described in my last blog (utilizing the proper, prettier branches), and my favorite of the eggs hanging from it.
My apologies for the poor quality, but it was midnight after a long cold day when I took them. I was the last one in the kitchen Saturday before Easter boiling two dozen eggs to devil the next morning my my church's brunch. I figured that deviled eggs would be something of a novelty here; which indeed they would have been if I had not forgotten them on the kitchen counter.
In other news, I have finally begun to make plans for my re-entry to the United States, and will disclose them in a blog devoted solely to news.

Busy, but alive.

I find that I must once again assert that I am alive. I have been rather busy the last couple of weeks celebrating Easter and welcoming Josh to Germany. Easter is not a small holiday here. That is evident in that they decorate the house in honor of the day. Not just with flowers and a pair of bunnies... they go to rather more trouble. First someone is sent out to collect green branches from which to hang the painted eggs that are often the result of years of collecting. Then there are the other easter ornaments that get hung all over the house. It was rather baffling for me to take in, and when Carolin and I were originally sent out to collect the branches, our mutual inexperience led us to branches that were more like small walking sticks than graceful decorations and a second collecting expidition was required.
Just before Easter, Josh arrived rather tired in Germany. After several somewhat chaotic days- in which we managed to all get sick, travel to the furthest edge of Niedersachsen to visit Goslar and see the Kaiserhaus (pictured below) where it was snowing, celebrate Easter, hear German spoken with a very thick Irish accent (a concert at the local Irish Pub)- we sent Josh on his way to Berlin and we have spent the rest of the week trying to get through all of our illnesses. It is currently nearly 1:15 am here, and my thoughts have been fuzzy for several hours now, so I am going to cut this very short, but I hope to be able to write more soon and more consistantly again. Liebe Grüße!

Valentine's Day

I am fully aware of the fact that the very title of this blog can be deemed pitiful when one looks at the calendar and observes that I am still ruminating over the holiday nearly a week later, but not one to be afraid (in this instance) of potential mockery, I will proceed to recount the events surrounding my celebration of the holiday. To understand the dramatic difference between my celebration of the lover's holiday this year and in years past, it seems beneficial for me to confess that I once started a club in preparation of the holiday. I was either in early high school or just finishing middle school in a time and community that walked high-nosedly past those poor lost children who dated on another to that higher calling of courtship, when I began this club. Adhering to the principles of courtship though naturally jealous of the attention and status that one attains in a dating relationship, I named the club the Valentine's-day-haters-alliance. I even typed up an invitation for select people to join this select number of people who would bond together in a group (as dictated by the rules of courtship) and commiserate our single fate (young as we still were). This year was entirely different. The personal tradition of the day that I did keep, was the tradition of not sharing the holiday with a boyfriend, but for the first time I was utterly unphased by this. I started my morning as usual power walking to the bus stop to avoid having to endure the humiliation of running and waving my hands to convince the driver to stop for my late person, went to school where I earned three pieces of chocolate by merely sitting there and being a fellow student, came home and cared for the kids, did all of my nightly routines and went to bed. This seems to be the end of the story, but no, the longest part of this tale is the beginning. The day before Valentine's day, thanks to the lovely and dangerously creative Tegan, I received a care package in the mail containing tea, popcorn ingredients (which anyone who knows me well could assert is a deep passion of mine which occasionally borders on obsession; particularly when I am unable to find Brewer's yeast), Sixlets, and most entertainingly, an entire entourage of my friends carefully rendered in black lines pursuing various activities. On Saturday, I was thrilled to receive another package, this time from the Taylors, jammed with deliciousnesses I have dearly missed such as Kettle Chips, Oreos, and yes, more popcorn, feathers (which are not included in the category of deliciousness) and a mad lib Valentine which I will include in the comment section. The weekend rolled around and I spend it with some fellow students, but along with Monday arrived yet another care package, this time from my mother. Hers included chocolate chips (which I believe I have already complained that of all the forms of chocolate in this country, chips is not included), Cheetoes, peanut butter filled pretzels (which happens to be nearly the only occasion that I enjoy peanut butter), and pajama pants! If this is the new standard that is being set for this holiday that I have so long despised and despaired before, then it might soon rival Christmas and I will need to over-celebrate a holiday in August or September just to spread the festivity a bit more evenly throughout the year. So that was my Valentine's days. Deepest, most heartfelt thanks to Tegan, Bryan, Ella, Coal, Will, and my Mother.

Let the fun begin!

I am safe and sound here at the Harfst's house and thoroughly enjoying myself. Yesterday I spend the day following David and Samuel around as they did their street performing with their friend Dominik. It was awesome. I really enjoyed their music and even got to participate (that is, I periodically tossed the change from David's coffee into the guitar case in front of the crowd or bought a cd from the boys, which David bought back from me at home). It was really cold, however, and the runny nose that I was fighting against on the way down here triumphed so I am now constantly accompanied by a package of Kleenex. Today I went to church with the clan, helped decorate the tree (the tradition in Germany is to not set the whole thing up until just before Christmas), then went out with Samuel, his friend Peter, and Peter's American girlfriend, Michelle. Michell attends Biola and knows one of my old but dear friends, Hilary. This world just keeps shrinking. I thoroughly enjoyed getting to talk with Michelle and Samuel and Peter over beer and pizza at the Alt Gießen, which is, apparently, a German dining experience. The holiday officially starts in one hour over here, so I will bid Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight.

"Like a dirty shirt..."

"... I'm off." (as my Father would say) I leave tomorrow morning to visit the Harfst family for Christmas. I have not gotten enough sleep this week however, so this is not a formal update. Hopefully I will have more thoughts and things to relate on the other end. Until then, fröliche Weihnachten!

The Hum-drum is Humming

Life seems to just keep skipping along. Perhaps the typical writer would use a more mundane adjective such as moving or plodding, but the realization that I have lived in this foreign country for over four moths justifies the use of a more sprightly temporal description. Another factor is the cheerful Christmas song written by a friend which is currently playing in my ears. Indeed, the season has hit in full force. There are several things here which celebrate the season in a different way. Most prominent of the differences in the celebration of the upcoming holiday is the bold declaration of, "Fröliche Weihnachten" instead of "Merry Christmas" splashed across innumerable signs and windows. Other notable variations are as follows:
1. No eggnog, instead there is a hot drink called Glüwien which can be found in both the alcoholic and non-alcoholic versions.
2. The local notion of a holiday market is something of an outdoor festival which is set up in the town square in the beginning of December and continues until Christmas. It is also open every day instead of merely the weekends and features primarily Glüwein, food, seasonal gifts and a carousel.
3. Growing up, I was familiar with Advent and had even seen the countdown calendars--the ones where you open the paper doors and see the picture of a candle, an angel, or a Santa-- or the paper chains to further encourage the excitement of the season in smaller children, but from what I have seen here they go rather further. These are no paper window calendars. They are small gifts or daily chocolates depending on the version (mine is the chocolate version for which I am very grateful). That's right... every day there's a little package to open. Oh, and there are two Santas here. The first one is Weihnacts Mann and he puts treats in the shoes which have been cleaned and left out by the children on the evening of December 5th. Niklaus, however, gives the gifts of Christmas which is apparently celebrated on the 24th of December.
4. "Holiday spirit" as encouraged in the States (i.e. kindness, and generosity), have not yet appeared on my radar here, but that does not exclude its existence it could merely mean that I am in the wrong circle.
5. I have yet to hear the flood of Christmas songs we learn so quickly to loathe in the shopping centers. Although the street accordion player has added "White Christmas" to his repertoire, there seems to be a general consensus to moderate the repetitiveness of the holiday music.
As I have not fully experienced this holiday I have much to learn about how it varies from the one I have known so well. This must conclude my observations of the moment, however, because I am sleepy and fully intend to make an early start of things tomorrow.

Signs of the Season

Today Sabine asked me why we say "season's greetings." You must understand that here they only have Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter. What is it that we have at home? Football season, Baseball season, Basketball season, and the off-season? And then there's the holiday season. Starting sometime around Halloween and lasting until the advertisements for credit card holiday debt reduction ads finally go off the air around February. So in our twelve month year we have five seasons, four of which last three months with the fifth lasting almost five months.
This weekend marks the beginning of the Weihnachten Markt (Christmas market) here in Oldenburg. Apparently it's not just a weekend thing: the booths stay up and open throughout the week. The seasonal delectables are also appearing in full force. There are roasted almonds, hot spiced wine, gingerbread by the loaf, cookies, and of course the mandatory chocolate Santas. Hot chocolate, tea, and coffee are, if possible, even more present in my daily routine. Oh, and the biggest thing is that yesterday it snowed here. That's right: snowed. Granted, it didn't stick because the thermometer was barely tickling the zero mark, but I witnessed with my own eyes flakes coming down from the sky. It has been a very long time since I have seen snow in November, and I only hope this means that there will be a fair amount of snow, because the stuff just delights me. As long as I am not attempting to drive over it on my way through a mountain pass, or spend the night on the street, snow is a-okay with me. So here comes Christmas whether I am prepared or not (so far, I am not even remotely), and with it all the joys and headaches of the peak of the fifth season.