Hauswirtschaftsleiterin

I enjoy pretending that Germans eat disgusting meat. Partly because I enjoy making fun of Germans, and partly because the meat often looks disgusting. But we’ve lived here long enough to have learned two important things:

1. Anything you buy at the Metzgerei (butcher shop) is delicious.
2. That disgusting thing lying there without refrigeration is phenomenal.

I’m not even sure what animal this is from.

We stopped by a local Metzgerei to order a turkey (yes, you have to order them here), and in the process I fell in love with some cured sliced meat lying behind the counter. Deep red, sprinkled with fat, and surrounded with a thick edge of fat.

Since we’ve moved to Germany, I’ve made an effort to not be impulsive. Otherwise, I’d come back with two slices of every cured meat behind the counter. In the past, I was able to resist buying random meats for two reasons:

1. My German was awful, and “ten slices of that meat-block, two from the left, with the black speckles; no, not THAT one, the one behind it” was just beyond my abilities.
2. There were so many other great things to experience!

Now, of course, the novelty of tiny cars and cobblestone streets is wearing off. Standing there in line, surrounded by amazing meats, and with enough German under my belt to order whatever the heck I please, the temptation was too much. And then Alissa kept saying “do you want anything? I’m about to order. Anything at all? Some meat maybe? Just a few slices?” I cracked.

YES! YES, I’LL TAKE ALL THE MEAT IN THAT PRESENTATION STILL LIFE SITTING ON THE PROP WOODEN CUTTING BOARD!

The guy behind the counter literally slid everything off the cutting board onto a piece of butcher paper. I started hyperventilating in anticipation.

Now I’m sitting in my underpants, eating slices of greasy meat with my fingers, and sipping Makers Mark.

Sometimes impulses really pay off.

It was very tempting to buy this and mail it to one of you. “Dear Steve, Here’s a bag of meat. Sincerely, James”

But I had a 3 hour train ride coming up. It was a judgement call.

It took six months, but I think we’ve finally found a German meat product that, as Alissa puts it, “It’s not bad, it’s just…”.

The package shows it cut into round slices. It’s a serving suggestion. So we did that.

Then we tried a little.

Then left it in the fridge to dehydrate for a couple days, before we threw it away.

But I’m not sure if I can consider this one a bad “German” meat product. Sure, they need some points deducted for including the word “bier” in something that is clearly unrelated. And they should probably be required to include a “This Is Cat Food” label on the front, perhaps with a picture of a cat, so nobody gets confused.

I’m going to chalk this up to a mix-up.

I’ve decided that all strange aspic-related dishes are bringers of good fortune. Why? Because they are. That’s why. Which is why I picked this bad boy up from the expensive grocery store.

A cold, delightful slice of goo pie.

It came vacuum-sealed in a plastic bag, and I ate it for breakfast.

Enlarged to Show Texture

It was delicious.

The next day, I won the lottery and I gave all my winnings to charity. When you live in a country that sells goo pie slices in the local grocery store, you can always win again tomorrow.

Okay, I’d like start this post by asking everyone to close your eyes. Just take some deep breaths, and let the air out slowly. Ahhhhhhh. Let’s think about something that will make us happy. We all like roast turkey, right? Delicious roasted turkey, sliced thin? My mouth is watering already. Let’s put a few slices of roasted turkey on this oval-shaped styrofoam plate. This turkey is going to be delicious, but I think we’re missing something. Maybe some vegetables? Okay, let’s throw on a pickle. That’s enough vegetables, right? No? Okay, okay. How about a slice of carrot? There we go! Beautiful. And since we’re in Germany, we may as well add some more protein. Let’s add a slice of egg.

Excellent job, everyone! This is looking really, really great. We’ve got a few pieces of sliced roasted turkey, with a thin slice of egg to the left, a single pickle slice in the center, and a fancy-cut slice of carrot on the right! It really does look amazing, but I think we can make it even better. Can anyone think of what we might add? This plate still has a lot of room.

Ah! I know! Let’s fill it with goo! Yes! We’ll just pour some goo all over the plate, filling in all the gaps between the slices of meat and vegetables. And you know what? I’ll be damned if we’re going to skimp on this! This is our fantasy! We’re going to add as much goo as we can fit into this plate! There we go! Wow!

Okay okay, everybody wake up! Open your eyes. Open your eyes and behold.

It’s like a dream come true.

Naturally, the first thing we’ll want to do is poke our finger in it.

There’s a solid chunk of goo on the top. This is quality stuff.

Readers with sharp eyes will notice there is another pickle under the packaging. I’m not sure if that’s a happy accident, or if everyone gets two pickles. But anyway, the quality of the goo can not be denied. Nice and solid, yet gives way with some insistent pushing. This is going to taste fantastic. But first, let’s not be greedy. After all, Alissa is still at work, and we don’t want to hog the entire goo plate before she gets home.

Five stars. Bravo.

I just kinda “came up” with the whole serving suggestion here. I sliced off some thick chunks of good bread and added them to the plate.

For the first bite, make sure we get some pickle.

It was really quite good. Seriously. The meat was delicious, the pickle was delicious, and the egg was probably just there for show. The goo was a bit sour. If I had one complaint, it would be that the goo was a bit too sour. It had a nice texture, but I think there was simply too much of it. As I ate, I found myself leaving the larger chunks of aspic on the plate. On any other day, I would have eaten it with the bread.

My quest to find a disgusting German meat product continues. You will not find it here.

No thanks.

Thin-sliced, floppy sausage thing with onions and celery pieces scattered around.

I guess it wasn’t disgusting. But something about the weird flavor, combined with the gross texture (and possibly the idea of eating a big sausage salad), just made this unappetizing once we got it home. The photo on the cover looks remarkably like what’s inside, so I’ll give them points for that.

But it’s only three Euro!

The cheese melted as if it was made entirely of soft plastic. And the meat inside was not good. Just not good. I was going to post a photo of the cooked result, but the picture is poor enough to make it look like it might be delicious.

It would be irresponsible of me to deceive you.

Pommersche Schnittlauch Meat Goo

I feel like we have these in the US, but is one of those things I associate with nobody. Nobody wants to eat this stuff in the States, right? Anyway, it caught my eye because there was a chance that it was something you slice. But then I saw the meat goo oozing out of the lower part of the package, between the sheets of plastic. Grooooooss!

But as it turns out, this stuff was pretty darn good. I almost ate the whole thing, spread on a brötchen. It was just a sort of savory, spiced meat paste.

Oh, and I feel I should take a few minutes to discuss the “brötchen”. A brötchen is just a mid-sized roll. Brot means bread and the -chen at the end means little or small. They are somehow absolutely delicious. The second time we visited Germany, I looked forward to having a brötchen with butter. That’s all. Oh, and a coffee. I can’t quite put my finger on why they’re better. They’re just a little sweet, a little more moist, and a little chewy. Not that a typical NY roll isn’t similar (although NY rolls can be a bit sour, which is good in it’s own right), but I wouldn’t want to eat a NY roll after it sat around for a day.

So this turned out well. While I was shopping, I saw a black sausage that I haven’t had the guts to purchase. It looked like a big chunk of poo. Maybe I’ll be able to trick Alissa into taking the first bite.