Wendelinus Market

Candied almonds, cookies, candy

Italian cookies

The master peeler shows his wares and his skills

Flammkucken, the German version of thin crust pizza

Fresh, herbed focaccia

Ok, fess up.  While you Protestants finish your sodoku, or stare out the window, can any of you Catholics tell me who Wendelin was?  All you backsliders give up?  St Wendelin is the patron saint of plague.  I know.  It was right on the tip of your ecclesiastical tongue, right?

St Wendelin’s history is shaded in the lore and scraps of history from the middle of the first century after Christ.  Apparently, the son of a Scottish king, he embarked on a pilgrimage to Rome.  On his way back, he stopped off in Trier and became a hermit.  Criticized for just hanging out, he took up sheep herding and along the way acquired a heavy rep for curing animals.  When a pestilence hit cattle of the area in the 14^th Century, his intercession was credited with saving the herds.  There’s even a city in Germany named for him, St Wendel.

Way back at the beginning of the Eighteenth Century, when local cattle were threatened with disease, one German town held a festival in St Wendelin’s honor.  Services, I’m told, were a relay situation, lasting twelve hours, with participation by several priests.  That was back in 1710.  After enthusiasm died out for twelve hour sermons, not to mention all the wars and pestilence St Wendelin couldn’t handle, the custom gradually withered.

Flash forward to 1986, when the merchants of Ramstein saw a golden opportunity to combine a market day, tradition, religion, and the heartwarming cacophony of cash registers.   Wendelinus Market lives again on Saturday and Sunday of the last weekend in October!

But, even with commercial interests in the fore, at least some remnants of religion and tradition remain.  You can still bring your animals to be blessed.

This year’s festival featured African foods and articles, as well as twenty French stands selling everything from soap to cheese to sausages.

Like any good fest in a German town or village, there was plenty to eat and drink.  The fragrance of hot wine and roasting meat wandered with the crowds down the narrow streets and into the open air of the old market place. With the advent of much lower temperatures, Glüwein was once again in evidence, but also the obligatory wines and beers and schnapps, wursts and potatoes.

Once you go to a German village fest, stroll with a Brat in your fist and a warm Glüwein in your other fist, you’re addicted.  The air is always frosty and clean.  The crowds are always friendly.  St Wendelin would be proud.

A woodturner at work...

...and some of his work

Amazing what you can do with paper and light.

Ribbons for her hair...

Neatest fried potatoes I've seen...and delicious.

Very nice, but at 147 Euros or $195, pretty pricy for a wreath.

Memories and the Kaiserslautern Market

Don't forget to scroll down for scintillating commentary and more photos

Worthy of a Monet or van Gogh!

I’m a fan of the city of Kaiserslautern.  Lots of good restaurants, broad pedestrian shopping areas, pubs that brew their own beer, and always something going on.  Saturday morning is market day.

In Europe, as in the U.S., there are supermarkets of a pretty fair size, but I prefer the farmers’ markets.  Usually the vegetables and fruits are those in season.  They’re mostly local and haven’t been picked early and shipped for hundreds of miles, losing flavor, vitamins, and texture with every bump in the road.

Plus, there’s something special about chatting with the folks who picked the produce they’re selling.  Makes you feel a little closer to the earth, like the morning-after when you woke up on the front lawn, and wife and kids weren’t even a budding idea.

Plus, there’s always a grand supply and variety of meats and cheeses, plants, cut flowers, and herbs, again depending on what’s in season.  You get to taste the cheeses and smoked meats, and the flowers last longer in your favorite vase.

Another thing that whets my appetite is the variety.  I always see fruits and veggies I’ve never seen before.  This trip I ran into Mirabella plums, golden, sweet and succulent.  In Germany and across the used-to-be border in Alsace, they juice these plums to make delicious dessert wines and distinctive brandies.

I also saw some Romanesco broccoli, or Roman cauliflower, as it’s sometimes called.  You prepare it just as you would normal cauliflower, but it’s flavor is milder and you have to beware of overcooking because greenish-yellow curls are more tender than the white variety you’re used to.

Ever seen flowering Greek oregano?  Me either.  Picked up one of those, along with a curry plant with frilly leaves.  The only kind of curry I’d seen before had straight leaves.

Yes, they have farmers’ markets in the states, but few are on a year around, regular schedule, and the ones I’ve been to in the States don’t offer the same array, variety, or things like smoked meats, and fresh baked breads.

But, no matter where you live, it’s worth checking out the local produce.  Tomato sandwiches and stuffed zucchini taste fabulously different when they’re straight from the vine.  And, the scents alone will bring back fleeting memories of the good ‘ol, free wheeling days of yore, when you slept on the lawn, dusted yourself off, and sped to work with the top down.

Greek oregano in front, curry behind

Dogs are welcome almost everywhere.

Fresh and smoked meats

Romanesco Broccoli

Homburg Farmers’ Market – Like Having Your Own Fields and Dairies

Strawberry season

Lots of mushrooms

Spitzkohl or pointed cabbage

Let your imagination run

Love those daisies

I love farmers’ markets.  Fresh.  Honest.  For the most part, at least in Germany, you’re buying local, from the folks who picked the berries, dug the potatoes, planted the flowers, and cultured the milk to make the cheese.   There’s no fragrance like a fresh fragrance and no taste like a fresh taste.

I admit I’m a cook.  Not a chef.  Chefs are cooks who know what the hell they’re doing. I fill plates with food; they create dishes that delight the eye, and linger on the taste buds and in the memory.  I make gravy.  They make delicate, silky sauces.  I can’t hang with that crowd and the folks from Michelin are never going to nail a star on my door.  But, that doesn’t mean I can’t shop where the chefs shop and use ingredients that carry the fragrances and tastes of the fields.

I grew up in Michigan and still remember sneaking into a farmer’s plot of corn to pull off an ear of Silver Queen and gobble it down, the sweet juices running off my chin.  No cooking.  No butter, or salt, or pepper.  Nothing else is needed when the vegetables are that fresh.

For the most part, I like my green vegetables at that perfect stage, past raw, but barely cooked, what the chefs call crisply tender.  Salads should be mixed field greens, blends of color, with a very light dressing that hides none of the fresh flavor.  See an earlier blog for basic vinaigrette and never buy salad dressing again!

My bottom line is:  Why eat when you can dine, often for the same cost, or much less.  Farmers’ markets offer that choice and Homburg’s is no exception.  On Tuesdays and Fridays, from 9 until noon, I like to wander and dream and chat with the growers and sellers.  “What should I use these mushrooms for?” and “What’s the difference between this cabbage and that?”  Matter of fact, the pointed cabbage in the photo (Spitzkohl) is tasty and easy to fix.  In my next blog I’ll give you a recipe.

Not to be missed is the tasting.  Never seen a cheese maker that didn’t offer a thin slice, or an olive merchant that wouldn’t let you savor the distinct flavor differences between oil and brine cured.

Germany is known for its salt and smoke cured meats.  Hams, sausages, each with a different name and taste, and all so delicious they’ll make you forget Hormel forever.  Your body will thank you for leaving the nitrates and other chemical shortcuts behind.

Culinary adventures are the perfect time to expand your repertoire and astonish your family.  Maybe I shouldn’t use the word ‘astonish.’ How about lead your taste-bud-retarded kin slowly and carefully into new and pleasant pastures? 

Eating healthy, vitamin laced, fresh meals are neither difficult, nor time consuming.  Average cooking time for greens such as broccoli is twelve minutes.  Carrots and green beans are the same.  Stir-fried cabbage and onions are even less.  Put hams or roasts in a pan with flavored broth, cover and stick them in the oven at 225ºF (110ºC) and let them simmer all day, while you do other things.  Want to spice things up? Add a sausage or two to the pot.

 There are other benefits to good cooking.

At a recent dinner party, one of my guests admonished two young men to learn how to cook.  “A man who cooks well is a chick magnet,” she said.  Golly, I never thought of that!

Shopping is hard work.  Time for a break.

Charleston Farmers' Market

Shrimp Po Boy Charleston Style

Charleston sur l'Atlantique

Fresh as Fresh can be

Georgia is the "Peach State," but SC has their share.

Europe is exciting, but in the U.S. there are also plenty of things to race your engine, whip your pony, and blow your hair back.  Some even come with a certain old world charm.  South Carolina, The Palmetto State, has its own slow, well-aged charm and for my money, the beating heart of that charm is Charleston.  No, it’s not the capitol, you idiot!  That’s Columbia, up I-26 for a couple of hours. When I'm in Charleston, one spot in particular draws me back time after time.

That spot is the Charleston Market.  I’m talkin’ cobblestone streets, women weaving sweetgrass baskets, people smiling and saying ‘y’all’ the way you’re supposed to say it.  On Saturday mornings (8 a.m. – 2 p.m.), from April 7 to December 23, I’m talking about an open air, stroll-through, genuine farmer’s market, where you can actually buy yourself a farmer farm fresh produce from small producers.  Tender okra.  Vine ripened tomatoes.  Shiny skinned onions.  In season, you’ll also find fruits and nuts straight from the green vines and tall, stately trees.  If you’re used to a watermelon picked before it’s time and shipped hundreds of miles, a vine-harvested melon, picked only a couple of hours before you eat it, is going to bring a smile to your face.

The open air market is located in historic Marion Square.  When you stroll the grounds, eyeing fantastic artwork, smelling pots of sweet herbs and oven fresh bread, and nibbling plates of all sorts of delectables, including Charleston’s most famous dish, shrimp and grits, take the time to glance around.  Marion Square was ceded to the then Colony of South Carolina in 1758.  The huge edifice to the north was for a time the colony’s arsenal, then from 1843 to 1922, it was The Citadel, The Military College of South Carolina, which has since moved to the west side of the city. A historic Baptist Church is right across the street.

The square is jointly owned by the Washington Light Infantry, a military and social organization formed in 1807 and the Sumter Guards, another private organization, and leased to the city.  Under the terms of the lease, the city must maintain Marion Square as a green area.

Right next to the square is St. Matthew’s Lutheran Church, with it’s towering steeple.  Founded in 1840 for German speaking congregants, it’s been in it’s current location since 1872.  There’s too much to include about St. Matthew’s, traditionally known as St. Matthew’s German Evangelical Lutheran Church.  But a couple of highlights are that it’s founder, Johann Andreas Wagener would go on to become a general of the Confederate States of America and later a member of Congress.

Marion Square also hosts a statue of John C Calhoun, and an elegantly sparse and moving Holocaust Memorial.

So, while you’re eatin’ your shrimp and grits, lugging your pots of fresh herbs, gawking at the artwork, and picking up those fresh, jubilantly red tomatoes, gaze across Marion Square and soak in the layers of living history.  It’s all around you and one of the big reasons Charleston is such a special place.

The famous shrimp and grits BBQ Style

Meet Me In Metz- The City of Dragons

Saint Étienne rises from the center of Metz 

Mac Chagall's famous glass

A chartcuterie  in the covered market

wines and cheeses abound

Coming out of the covered market - Place de Chambre

Time to pick a bistro

Quiche Lorraine!

Metz is a city sizzling with history, wine, food, and culture, just across the border from Germany…no, I mean just across the border from France…no, wait; now it’s in France.  Hard to keep track.  Metz has crossed the border more times than the German army.  Right now it is in France, or at least all the people speak French and don’t smile much.

Like most cities in this part of the world, the history of Metz goes back to well before Julius Caesar came, saw, and conquered. Metz was first fortified by the Celts around 110 BCE.  Roman, Frankish, French, German, and American armies have all seen battle here. You may have heard of the nearby Maginot Line, which the German Army overran in 1940.  In 1944, it was the Germans who had their backs against the wall. A vicious, three-month battle ensued, with German defenders holding on until George Patton’s 3^rd Army broke through. 

Sitting at the confluence of the Moselle and Seille Rivers, Metz (pronounced Mess by the French and Matz by the Germans) was once a part of the Holy Roman Empire.  In the 18^th Century it became a part of Lorraine (of quiche fame), which is also when The Grand Duchy of Luxembourg became independent.

Now Metz is known by yours truly for it’s fabulous old style food market, it’s astounding cathedral, and for it’s wonderful bistros

First, let’s amble through the Saint Etienne Cathedral. Etienne is the French version of Stephen, pronounced et-t’-YIN, from the Greek word for crown.   Its nickname is God’s Lantern, named for having about 6500 square meters, or 70,000 square feet of stained glass.  The cathedral’s first stained glass dates to the 13^th Century.  Note the deep blue, called “bleu de Chartres.”  Marc Chagall did the latest and most modern windows in 1963.  In 2008, vandals broke into the cathedral through a hole in the window (since repaired).

Lots of myths and legends surround the Metz Cathedral.  Myth, legend, truth?  You pick.  According to tradition, Saint Peter sent Clement to Metz in the 1^st Century to spread Christianity.  There are several miracles surrounding Saint Clement.  He is said to have killed a dragon, The Graoully.  This dragon and a host of snakes inhabited the Roman amphitheater, poisoning the air with their breath.  After getting a promise from the locals that they would convert to Christianity if Clement dispatched the dragon, he walked into the amphitheater, was attacked, but made the sign of the cross.  This tamed the snakes, apparently including the dragon.  But, this tale has dragoned on long enough.  You can see representations of The Graoully in various places around Metz.  Don’t forget to visit the cathedral museums!

On to the famous covered market, adjacent the cathedral, in the Place de Chambre.  Begun in 1785 as the Bishop’s Palace, a little disagreement called The French Revolution stopped its completion.  In the early 19^th Century it became a market and has remained so.  More than a market, it’s a step back in time, especially for Americans, who may be astounded to find sausages and hams hanging from hooks and patés that are not entombed in adult-proof plastic wrap.  Cheeses, vegetables, meats, fruits, seafood, all are wonderfully fresh.  Oh, ya gotta try some breads!  Prices are reasonable (if you don’t count what’s happened to the dollar).  Look around and you’ll see why.  Mostly locals shop here, unlike an unnamed market in Seattle, which attracts upwards of 10,000 tourists a day.  Big difference.  Metz market is a must see.  Of course, that’s just my ever so humble opinion.

Now we’ve worked up an appetite.  It’s time to thumb through the dusty memories of our high school French and do our best Maurice Chevalier imitation at a French bistro.  When hunger is at hand, don't’ limit yourself to the cathedral/ market area.  Come out of the covered market into Place de Chambre, make a right turn, then turn left about 25 yards later at the flower stand.  That lane will lead you to another open plaza, lined with wonderful bistos.  Restaurants are open for lunch from about 1130 to 1400 (2p.m.).  After that, best of luck finding more than a snack kiosk open.  The bistros open again about 1700 (5p.m.).  Best bets for my taste are the quiche Lorraine (After all you are in Lorraine!) and a  meat platter of local sausages and hams on a bed of sauerkraut.  The region is also famous for it’s Mirabelle plum brandy, and its wines.  If you're a beer connoisseur, try one of the excellent French beers, such as Fischer.

A final tourist tip for Metz.  On the side of the cathedral is another large plaza, the Place d’Armes, so named because it was built in the 18^th Century to symbolize the four seats of power, the church, the government, the courts (justice), and the army.  Only the army has been replaced, by a tourist bureau. Sign of the times.  (Office de Tourisme Place d'Armes.  http://tourisme.metz.fr/en/commun/contact.php )  The tourist office has a lot of great information about where to see the Roman remnants inside and outside the city, but best of all, they also have toilet facilities at a price of only 50 European cents!