New European Food: Saarbrücken

Lots of Christmas markets (Weihachtsmarkt) this time of year. Some last more than a month, others just a few days. Look around. You’ll find plenty, big and small, sometimes more than one in the same city.

Here’s a partial list for Rheinland Platz http://www.weihnachtsmarkt-deutschland.de/rheinland-pfalz.htmlClick on the brown lettering to get the dates for a specific market

And another partial list for Saarland: http://www.weihnachtsmarkt-deutschland.de/saarland.html

Click on the red lettering to get the dates for a specific market.

Weihnachtsmarkt is pronounced Vie-knocks-marked, but in English or German, it’s a wonderful tradition for the holiday season.

Unlike the United States, where anything suggesting religion is carefully scrutinized before being beheaded, the Germans are unabashedly fond of Christmas and its many celebratory reincarnations. Nativity scenes are shamelessly displayed. Join in the fun, or embrace The Grinch.

Remember, this is Germany. No matter the occasion, the waft of roasting meats and baking bread lusciously fills the air. Beer and wine flow freely and the click of heavy mugs lets you know you’re in the right place. My kind of Christmas celebration. Vendors line the streets. Artisans display their wares, with everything from intricate tree ornaments to handsomely carved furniture, olive wood kitchen implements, homemade chocolates, and a thousand other things that suddenly look like a fabulous way to spend money and keep the snarling relatives at bay.

Roasting Chestnuts

Castle is in the far background

In the city of Saarbrücken (Bridge over the Saar River) you have a bunch of choices. We picked the Weihnachtsmarkt in the plaza of the Saarbrücken Castle. Is the castle historic? Yes and no. Lots of castles on this site, dating back to around 1000 A.D. Dukes, Duchesses, wars, revolutions saw so many deconstructions and reconstructions that the history is difficult to follow. The current buildings got a facelift and architectural changes in the late 20^thCentury and are used as offices by the Saarland government. Still, they stand straight, white, and with a certain majesty. The cobblestones are a nice touch and it’s the perfect place for a market, which also wanders down the surrounding streets.

But, no matter which Weihnachtsmarkt I pick, I always find something different, something that strikes me as “Hey, never thought of that.” In some cases I’m pleased that I never thought of that, but often I’m surprised.

This time it was hot beer. Glühbier, it’s called. The thoughtful folks who provided this warmth on a chilly day in Saarbrücken were Belgian as was the Glühbier.

The beer comes out steaming!

Most of us have sampled Glühwein. Wine with spices, and sugared, then heated. You can also get it with a shot of this or that, which is always a good idea, but only if you’ve found another driver for the sleigh. Even with more alcoholic infusions, I can only take one mug of Glühwein. A bit sweet for my taste. But, it does get better with age, so wait five minutes, then have another.

Glühbier is a different beast. You may think fruit flavored beer is sweet. Not if it’s Belgian. They add the fruit flavoring before fermentation, so the sugar from the fruit morphs into real beer, with a fruit flavor. Heat the fruit beer up and you’ve got Glühbier. First time I tried it, I was ready for another. Instantly addictive. A side effect is that suddenly your other hand feels empty without a Brat. Easily remedied.

Glühbier! Succulent, with just a bare bite of bitterness.

One thing I really enjoy about a German Weihnachtsmarkt is the attitude of the people. Happy. Smiling. Hail fellow well met! You well may wonder about the origin of that greeting from medieval times. Well, join me for a Glühbier, grab a Wurst and let’s talk about it…

Some of the things I like best about the springtime in Germany are the farmers markets. To be sure, there are farmers markets all year long, but they seem to be tired and withdrawn in the cold of winter. The warm weather appears, with its fragrant rains, turning to sunny skies and suddenly the market places spring up like mushrooms. Seemingly every village throws up banners, smiles break out like rainbows, and the culinary world comes out of hibernation.

Every market I go to is new, even if I’ve been there before. Cheeses I haven’t tasted. Spicy wursts I haven’t smelled. The aroma of roasting nuts. And, most of all, bursts of red, yellow, deep purples, and bright greens covering every stand and every cart. For someone who likes to cook, the possibilities overwhelm the imagination. “Let’s see, I can make tomato chutney with those, some grilled eggplants might be nice. OH, check out those yellow squash and the zucchinis!” I effortlessly plan stews and salads, desserts and grilled vegetables. I grab several bunches of cut flowers to decorate the house.

Then my wife stomps into my reverie with her high-heeled jackboots. “That makes 16 meals so far. You that hungry or do you plan on feeding the French Army?”

“I’d never invite the French. They’d eat all the food and criticize my technique.” However, she has drawn my attention to the five shopping bags I’m lugging, all brimming with plump loaves of crusty bread, redolent fruits, fragrant cheeses, and vegetables in every available style and color. Well, it is kinda hard to know when to stop. Money in my pocket. Time on my hands. Mind in the kitchen.

My wife nods. “The boys will probably help you make a dent in the provisions.”

Boys indeed. They’re now men, with the kind of rapacious appetites that cause a school of piranhas to stare in awestruck wonder. Whole families of swine are known to wail in terror when one of my sons mentions barbeque.

Well, it is a match made in culinary heaven. I like to cook. I have people to cook for. With that bit of comfort, I stroll on, stopping to admire some tree ripened apricots and shiny skinned nectarines. I do have another empty shopping bag.