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Posts from the ‘Germany’ category

Currywurst, noxoss, Bernd Petrikat, Pixabay

My Berlin: the humble currywurst

Above/featured: Image by noxoss (Bernd Petrikat) on Pixabay.

In Germany’s capital city, Berlin is populated by countless venues for Döner, falafel, and currywurst. For the latter, I highlight two examples: Curry 61 (Hackescher Markt) and Curry 36 am Zoo (Zoologischer Garten), both of which are easily accessible with the city’s U- or S-Bahn.


Curry 61 – Hackescher Markt

(17 March 2011.)

Walking around Berlin’s Mitte district on a wet March afternoon, I found myself in the area around Hackescher Markt. I stepped briefly into the quiet Hackesche Höfe courtyard complex to pick up some postcards (at Schönhauser Design). I’d already subjected myself to the sights and scents emanating numerous cafés, bakeries, and snack shops. I hadn’t had lunch, and with food possibilities reaching my eyes, the grumbling belly meant time to feed.

The ubiquitous yet humble currywurst came to the rescue. I retraced my steps back towards Hackescher Markt, and I arrived at the street-side counter for Curry 61.

A short history of Berlin’s claim to currywurst’s origins goes something like this. In 1949, Herta Heuwer, who ran a snack counter in Berlin, mixed curry powder and Worcestershire sauce with ketchup, and when she served grilled pork sausage with the new sauce to her customers, they loved the new concoction. She patented the sauce as “Chillup” years later. Today, currywurst is ubiquitous, challenging even the Döner as the champion of street-food throughout Berlin.

Currywurst at Curry 61, Curry 61, Berlin Mitte, Germany, Hauptstadt, Deutschland, fotoeins.com

Curry 61 – 17 Mar 2011.

Bratwurst mit Darm, Currywurst at Curry 61, Curry 61, Berlin Mitte, Germany, Hauptstadt, Deutschland, fotoeins.com

Grilled sausage, with casing. Curry 61 – 17 Mar 2011.

Bratwurst ohne Darm, Currywurst at Curry 61, Curry 61, Berlin Mitte, Germany, Hauptstadt, Deutschland, fotoeins.com

Grilled sausage, without casing. Curry 61 – 17 Mar 2011.

A short conversation in German with the owner went something like this:

•   Was hätten Sie gern? — Einmal mit (Darm) und Pommes rot; scharf, bitte.
•   Woher kommen Sie? — Kanada, doch ich arbeite zurzeit in Chile.
•   Was machen Sie hier in Berlin? — Urlaub, ein paar Freunden besucht.
•   Wie sprechen Sie so gut Deutsch? — Schon 2. Jahre hier gewohnt, und viele Mass Bier getrunken.

Which roughly translates in English as:

•   What would you like? — An order with (casing), and fries ‘red’; spicy, please.
•   From where do you come? — Canada, but I work presently in Chile.
•   What are you doing in Berlin? — Vacation, visiting friends.
•   How did you come to speak German? — 2 years in the country, and many litres of beer.

The owner seemed to like my answer to his last question.

Although the owner asked if I really wanted the spicy (Scharf) version, I got a good dose of spice; my serving had a good sharp edge.

Currywurst mit Pommes, Curry 61, Berlin Mitte, Germany, fotoeins.com

Pork bratwurst with fries doused in ketchup and topped with curry and chili powders. Curry 61 – 17 Mar 2011.


Curry 36 – Zoologischer Garten

(9 Dec 2014.)

In subsequent visits to Berlin, I’m passing through the train station near the city’s zoo more frequently. Next to the station at Hardenbergerpltaz is a satellite of Curry 36. While their key location is near Mehringdamm station, Curry 36’s location next to Zoologischer Garten station gets its fair share and flow of people streaming in and out of the station serving U-Bahn, S-Bahn, and regional trains.

I order a Doppel (double-order), both “ohne Darm” (no casing) and sliced into bite-sized pieces, accompanied by “Pommes rot-weiss” (red white) that’s a portion of fries slathered with ketchup and mayo and topped with curry powder.

Curry 36, currywurst, Zoologischer Garten, Hardenbergplatz, Berlin, Hauptstadt, Germany, Deutschland, fotoeins.com

Curry 36 am Zoo – 9 Dec 2014.

Curry 36, currywurst,  Zoologischer Garten, Hardenbergplatz, Berlin, Hauptstadt, Germany, Deutschland, fotoeins.com

Curry 36 am Zoo – 9 Dec 2014.


Many have written about and swear by these currywurst joints in Berlin: Curry 36 and Konnopke’s Imbiss. I’ve also visited the German Currywurst Museum to learn about the history and evolution of the snack. Come to think of it, every time I’m in Berlin, I’ll seek out the currywurst, from one “Imbiss” stand to the next, in my perpetual search for the ultimate taste of the city.

I made all photos with a Canon EOS450D/Rebel XSi on 17 Mar 2011 and 9 Dec 2014. This post appears on Fotoeins Fotografie at fotoeins DOT com as http://wp.me/p1BIdT-pr.

Pavement marker Niederkirchnerstrasse, between Martin-Gropius Bau & Topographie des Terrors, Berlin, Germany - 2. Okt. 2009

The Berlin Wall, 1961-1989

Some view East Germany (GDR/DDR) with great fondness, if it’s a comparison made between today with the “good old days.” I’m not interested in the “Ostalgie” (nostalgia for the former east). I’m interested in learning how a system in place does a gradual creep, takes over a country and her people. Before they realize what’s happening, their own government has locked them inside the borders to prevent them from leaving; get caught trying to escape near the border, and you’ll be shot for your trouble.

“No intention to build a wall …”

On 15 June 1961, when asked at a press conference if a wall would be erected between west and east Berlin, Walter Ulbricht, leader of the GDR’s only recognized political party, the Socialist Unity Party of Germany (Sozialistische Einheitspartei Deutschlands), answered:

“Die Bauarbeiter unserer Hauptstadt beschäftigen sich hauptsächlich mit Wohnungsbau, und ihre Arbeitskraft wird dafür voll eingesetzt. Niemand hat die Absicht, eine Mauer zu errichten.”

“Construction workers in our capital city are fully engaged in residential construction, and the labour force is deployed for that purpose. No one has any intention of putting up a wall.”

(Chronik der Mauer | YouTube )

Privately, Ulbricht had already been pushing hard to build a wall to stop the increasing number of people leaving East Germany for the West. Building a wall would also strengthen the (buffer) position of East Germany within the developing Soviet satellite-empire.

Two months later at midnight on August 13, work began quietly on a wall, and orders were given for additional troops to guard and “protect” the border. Berliners awoke at daybreak to a divided city.


( Click here for more )

Erna-Berger-Strasse, Berlin, Germany, fotoeins.com

My Berlin: a lonely watchtower stands in Mitte

I’m sure I would’ve immersed myself in European history and languages, had I not studied physics or astronomy. After two years of working in Germany, I developed a deep interest for language and her people. Even after having left the country in 2003, I’ve been fortunate to return once or twice each year.

I had read about one of the few remaining DDR-Wachtürme (East German Watchtowers) in Berlin. On a December afternoon, light snowfall in the German capital city seemed to slow both human and mechanized activity. I wandered slowly into Berlin Mitte to check out the location of an old East German watchtower that’s been listed as a historical monument since 2001.

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Lost minds, lost carousels : Flughafen FRA Airport

How to be ridiculous, in perfectly good Denglisch

Date: 2009 October 10.
Location: Terminal 2, Frankfurt am Main Airport.
State: “unorientation”

Something one often forgets is that they might want to pay attention to the public-address announcements : the next gate for a connecting flight, or where to pick up their luggage.

After disembarking the plane from Prague, it’s obvious from the overhead signage in the terminal about whether I should be going to baggage claim D or baggage claim E. Now if I’m actually paying attention, that’s an entirely different matter.

Nonetheless, I stride boldly and confidently into luggage claim D.

Conclusion number one? I have chosen unwisely.

Gepaeckausgabe, baggage claim, signage, photo by Claus Wolf at FRA

Gepäckausgabe | baggage claim. Photo by Claus Wolf (CC2.0)

Schadenfreude

I flag down one of the luggage porters in the claim area …

ME : Entschuldigung … ich bin gerade von Prag angekommen und ich suche ja die richtige Gepäckausgabe. (Excuse me, I’ve just arrived from Prague and I’m looking for the baggage claim.)

HIM : Welcher Flug? (Which flight?)

ME : Czech Airlines, O-K Flugnummer 5-3-6.

He nods and gives me a look of sympathy … or … is that pity …

HIM : Sie sind im falschen Bereich. Sie müssen in die Halle-E hingehen, um Ihr Gepäck abzuholen. (You’re in the wrong area, you have to go to baggage claim E.)

ME : Ach, für SCHEISSE … (You really don’t need that translated, do you?)

HIM : Kein Problem, bitte gehen Sie draussen zum Information hin und da gibt es ein Angesteller, der Ihnen helfen können wird. (No problem, just head on out to the Information booth.  Tell the clerk there about your situation, and they should be able to help you out.)

ME : Alles klar. Danke sehr!

HIM : … a final look of sympathy …

I leave baggage-claim D, out of the security of airside to find myself in front of the Information booth. I’m telling my sob story to the lady at the booth, complete with boarding card and passport as visual confirmation of my folly. I receive another look of sympathy, or maybe this time, it really is pity. A quick decision made in her mind, she commands me to follow her.

(Yes, ma’am …)

We slip past the crowd of people “landside” waiting for their loved ones to come out of the baggage claim area “airside”, and we pass through two sets of doors into the correct luggage-claim area E.

I’m gobsmacked, because we’ve just “casually” walked from an unsecured-landside area to the secured-airside baggage-claim area without going through security checks. No, it’s all about authority, her authority: a badge on her uniform, her electronic pass-card, and her faith in the truth of my story – all three elements, each equally vital. As I’m not completely out of my mind (yet), what little I’ve left is conjured to thank her for her help. She smiles, and she’s off on her way, back to her realm at the Information Booth.

I don’t bother to look back to see if she’s shaking her head at me … in sympathy … or pity.

Five minutes later, my luggage is out on the carousel. Because apparently, I’m made of magic today …

And that’s just the first part.

Someone needs MY help?!

After retrieving my baggage and leaving the security-area a second time, my plan is to take the monorail to Terminal 1 and the regional train station (Regionalbahnhof). I want to take suburban rail S-Bahn to Frankfurt central train station (Hauptbahnhof). As a trip from airport into the city is about 4 Euros with the S-Bahn or about 30 Euro with a taxi, I’m going cheap today.

As I leave the baggage area, a stranger walks up to me, asking me in German if I can help him and about how he can get to the Hauptbahnhof.

The first question in my head is: “why are you asking me this question?” There are tons of other people around, leading me to the second question: “why are you asking me? Do I have “loser”, “sucker”, or “Dummkopf” plastered on my face?

Must be, because thankfully, I’m keeping my piehole shut.

I find myself helping the poor guy, as I manage to talk to the guy out in passable German. He’s got to get to Wolfsburg, which, at 300 kilometres from Frankfurt, is not a trivial schlep. I ask him to follow me to the Regionalbahnhof, where we’ll hop on the S8 or S9 S-Bahn train for the short ride to the central station downtown.

Throughout the short ride, he keeps looking at his slip of paper with information about his train connection to Wolfsburg. He looks up and asks: “Sicher?” (Are you sure?)

In my head, I’ve got a snappy, if not snippy, reply.

“Look, you asked for my help, why would I be yanking your chain, to go this far, to take the train from the airport to the main station, where in fact there is not only graphical signage inside the train showing us where we’re going. Have you also not noticed a nice lady’s voice over the public address system: nächste Haltestelle: Frankfurt Hauptbahnhof (next station: Frankfurt main train station).

Instead, I nod dumbly, and point to one sign indicating the route of our train between the airport and downtown, and to the display indicating what the train’s next stops will be, including the central station.

It’s only natural he’s asking; I’m a stranger, he’s a stranger, and I’m helping out another stranger.

Mercifully, we arrive at Frankfurt central station. We leave the S-Bahn underground level, and we ride the escalators up to the “Fernverkehr” (long-distance trains) at ground-level. We’re standing in front of the departures board to look for his train. I lead him to the correct platform, I shake his hand and wish him well. Viel Glück!

Conclusion number two is having to learn the differences between two verbs. When you tell someone to follow, the correct verb is “mitkommen,” (to follow or to accompany; i.e., “Kommen Sie bitte mit“). The other verb is “folgen”, which is generally used to mean to follow something or something to cause some kind of following result.

Conclusion number three is this. “Frankfurt am Main” is Frankfurt on the river Main (pronounced “mine”). This prevents confusion with “Frankfurt am Oder,” located on the other side of the country next to the Polish border. So, if you see or hear “Frankfurt am Main main train station”, don’t panic. Your eyes or ears are not fooling you, and you haven’t lost your mind.

Just be sure to check the overhead signage …

Originally posted on Posterous, 2010 April 28 and adapted from “The 25” on Facebook, this post appears on Fotoeins Fotopress at fotoeins.com as http://wp.me/p1BIdT-2z.