Changes

I sat in my favorite coffee shop, sipping a Milch-Kaffee, nibbling a pumpkin-seed-encrusted croissant, and reading a mystery novel on my Kindle.

The shop is actually a thriving bakery, with only three tables for sipping and nibbling.  It was a nicely chilled autumn morning, so I’d walked, listening to a German lesson or two on my iPod.  See the logic there?  Walking, but using my time wisely to prep myself for German, which would be spoken shortly.  Wouldn’t it be nice if language lessons and reality matched up like that?

Takes me back to my high school French class and “La plume de ma tante est sur la table.”  In the decades since I committed that useful phrase to memory, I have never once been asked where my aunt’s pen is.  However, I was once asked in a French cheese shop if I spoke French.  I was immediately able to adjust the phrase to “La fromage de my tante est sur la table,” both impressing my friends and confusing the woman behind the counter, who didn’t know my aunt and couldn’t have cared less where she kept her cheese.

German lessons work the same way.  On this particular morning, unlike the thrilling voice on the iPod, I had not gotten off an airplane, nor taken a train, nor did I need to know where I could locate the American Embassy to schedule a haircut appointment for my aunt.  I was going to a bakery, where I would be devoid of useful words and phrases and subject to the distain shown a Neanderthal whose native language consisted of pointing and grunting, and causing innocent children to cling to their moms’ skirts.

Fortunately, coffee is pretty much the same word in any language and Milch is close enough to milk.  Croissant the same.  Spoken with a tone of desperation, it’ll get you what you want.  So, I sat down, sipped, put away the iPod and started on the Kindle.

As the coffee and croissant disappeared, I paused to look around me.   Nothing in particular.  The world in general.  Oh how the world has changed since I took French.

Right in front of me were an iPod, and a Kindle.  I was enjoying a cup of coffee from a magic coffee machine that hadn’t been invented, in a bakery shop that hadn’t existed.  On my wrist was a battery-powered watch.  I had a cell phone in my pocket.  I’d pay my bill in Euros, not Deutschmarks. If I wanted, I could drive to France with no one checking my passport, because there is no protected border, and even in France I’d still pay in Euros.

Not only that, but there had been no Super Bowl to look forward to and the NFL only had about half the number of teams.  On the sad side, there had been no Vietnam War, and JFK, MLK, and RFK were still kicking.

Heading to the slopes, I’d have found no snowboards, but I’d have seen skis longer than a grammar lesson. 

The world keeps on changing, and except for the events that eventually wind up in a history book, we barely notice.

Even so, some things remain the same.  I still enjoy coffee and croissants.  The sun still rises and sets, fall follows summer, and I still wear Levis.  Oh, yeah, my aunt’s pen is still right where she left it, right there on the table.

Down to the Bäckerei For a Morning Cup

Sandwiches 

300 Varieties of Bread

Looking from the inside out

One of the chain bakeries, Reichhart, has a small shop within walking distance.  Some mornings I get there for coffee and sometimes I linger to write, or finish reading a book.  Tough life. 

You can learn a lot idling over your caffeine fix.  For instance, Germans always greet each other on entering and leaving.  Used to be you’d hear “Guten tag” and “Weidersehen. “  Now you hear “Hallo” and “Tschüss.”  The later is pronounced ‘chew-ss’ and is more or less the German version of ‘ciao.’

Germany is one of those fabulous countries that sports two or three corner bakeries in every town.  Granted, most are owned and operated by big corporations. Private Bäckerei seem to be disappearing rapidly.  One statistical source shows a 40% decline since 1990.  Sound familiar?  We’re seen the same thing with cookie-cutter malls in the U.S.  All the big boys driving out the Main Street moms and pops.

In Germany it’s a bit different.  Even many of the chains are small bisto-style bakeries located on street corners in every village.   They bake their own bread and make their own pastries. Hours are usually 7 to 7, with perhaps a half-day on Sunday.  None of this 24/7 stuff that really puts Mom and Pop at a disadvantage.

A line forms as you step into a German bake shop.  When it’s your turn, the counter salesperson gives her undivided attention.  For that moment, she is there only to serve you.  Lots of eye contact.  Makes you feel special.  Thinking of sending my wife to bakery school.

There are so many varieties of bread, from Graubrot (crusty rye-wheat) to Vollkornbrötchen (whole-grain).  There were 300 types at last count and another 1,200 types of rolls and pastries, so it’s hard to choose. But one thing for sure, Germans go for extreme freshness and heavy, wholesome bread.  Goodness knows, they eat enough of it.  192 pounds per person each year.  Compare that to 121 pounds per person for the French, no slouches themselves in the bread department.  Taking bread and baking seriously extends to the employees.  By the time a salesperson gets behind the counter, she is well trained, sometimes working months or years to get to full time.

What about the bread itself?  Food laws specify what can and cannot be used in practically all food preparation.   These days most bakeries have gone a step further and sell Bio bread, which is organic to the max, including the seeds and nuts sprinkled on top.  Even the non-Bio bread has no preservatives or flavor additives.  Also, it’s uncut until you buy it.  “Schneiden?” the lady will ask, holding up your fresh purchase.  Do you want it sliced?

The only downside to ‘freshness first’ is that you have only a day or two to consume your purchase before it starts to become a laboratory experiment.  Ah, the price lazy appetites pay to eat healthy.

Lunch available, or maybe a more sustaining breakfast than sugary treats?  You bet.  Lots of brötchen (rolls) laden with slices of cheese, tomato, pickles, and eggs.

What about the coffee?  I love German coffee, most of which comes from automatic espresso machines.  Of course, not everyone agrees, but those are the poor souls who won’t drink any coffee that doesn’t rhyme with up-chucks. The German word for coffee is pretty much the same as ours, Kaffee.  Want café au lait, better ask for Milch Kaffee.  If you just want the counter help to add a bit of milk, order Kaffee mit Milch.  No big deal.  In most places you can simply order Kaffee and add the milk and sugar yourself.  Need it ‘To Go?”  Just say, zum Mitnehmen.  Often you can get a coffee and pastry at a special price, Angebot.

Getting to be a regular at a Bäckerei has its own rewards.  Now I get my coffee after I walk in the door, and if only for a moment, I have a smiling, special friend, who makes a lot of eye contact.