Germany – Page 6 – European Traveler

European Easter Breads

A Mix of Symbolism and Satisfying Taste

Lamb-shaped cakes and breads for Easter are made in the Alsace region of France, as well as in Germany, Austria and Eastern Europe. Photo by Sharon Hudgins

by Sharon Hudgins

When the Easter season approaches, European kitchens are filled with the yeasty aromas of freshly baked breads, as cooks all over the Continent prepare the special loaves and buns traditionally associated with this important religious holiday.

In the past, devout Christians observed a strict fast during Lent, the six or seven weeks before Easter, when they abstained from eating animal products of any kind: red meat, poultry, milk, butter, lard, cheese and eggs.

In some parts of Europe, even sugar, honey, olive oil, and certain kinds of fish were on the list of forbidden foods. When Easter finally arrived, people celebrated with a huge meal featuring dishes made from all the ingredients that had been prohibited during Lent. Even though few people follow such strict fasts today, the tradition of feasting on special foods at Easter is still an important part of many European cultures.

Rich, yeast-raised breads full of milk, butter and eggs are an essential element of the Easter meal in most European countries. Often the breads are made in symbolic shapes and elaborately decorated with sugar icing, candied fruits or colored eggs. Homemade or bakery bought, these breads represent a continuity of traditions from centuries past, including much earlier, pre-Christian times.

Different countries, regions and towns of Europe have their own characteristic breads baked especially for Easter. In some places, these special breads are taken to church to be blessed at the Easter midnight mass or the Easter Sunday morning service, before proudly being displayed on the festive dinner table at home. And in Russia and many Eastern European countries, the table also has a little three-dimensional lamb modeled out of butter, for spreading on the bread after it is cut.

Breads of all kinds are offered at Easter-time; these were baked by Michael Mikusch at his Austrian bakery.

GERMANY AND CENTRAL EUROPE

Bakers in Germanic communities make Easter breads in a variety of shapes, secular and religious. Breads shaped like rabbits, lambs, baby chicks and fish are symbols of springtime, fertility and birth. Braided loaves—long and straight, round or wreath-shaped—are made with three strands of dough representing the Holy Trinity of Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Germans and Austrians make several versions of Osterzopf (Easter braid), Osterkranz (Easter wreath or crown), and Striezel (stacked braided bread), as well as Osternester (Easter nests) or Eier im Nest (Easter-egg nest) with white or colored hard-boiled eggs surrounded by the dough. The circular braided Osterkranz is also symbolic of Christ’s crown of thorns, and the red-dyed eggs decorating many Easter breads are said to represent Christ’s blood and resurrection—although the egg’s significance as a symbol of rebirth and regeneration actually dates further back in time to the pre-Christian era.

Other special Germanic Easter breads include the Osterfladen—a flat, rectangular bread with a sweet filling of apples, raisins and almonds—and several varieties of Osterbrot (Easter bread) flavored with raisins, currants, candied orange peel, grated lemon zest, anise and cardamom. The Osterkarpfen (Easter carp) is a bread shaped like a fish, glazed with white icing, and studded with sliced almonds to represent fish scales. Germans also make Osterkorbe breads formed like Easter baskets and rabbit-shaped Osterhasen breads, all of them holding real or candy eggs. And the Eiermännle (Little Egg Man) is a flat bread shaped like a boy or man, with an unshelled hard-boiled Easter egg baked in the center of his body or inside a basket that he carries on his back.

Lamb-shaped cakes and breads can be found at Easter-time from Alsace to Austria, from Germany to the Czech Republic, Poland, Slovakia and Hungary. Baked in three dimensional metal or pottery molds, these represent Christ as the sacrificed Lamb of God, although their origin can probably be traced to earlier, pre-Christian rites in which baked dough effigies of sacrificial animals were substituted for live animals. Lamb breads are made from the same kind of sweet, yeast-raised doughs used for Alsatian Kugelhopf, Austrian Gugelhupf,and Polish baba (or babka). The cake versions are made from a simple white cake batter, although both chocolate and marble (mixed chocolate and white) lamb cakes sometimes show up in the flocks of Easter lambs sitting in bakery windows at this time of year.

The simplest lamb breads and cakes are merely dusted with a coating of confectioners’ sugar or drizzled with a light glaze of sugar icing. More elaborate cakes are covered with fluffy white frosting, sometimes garnished with shredded coconut, or spread with chocolate icing decorated with white icing swirls. The eyes are made from raisins, whole cloves, or coffee beans, and a small silk ribbon, often with a tiny bell attached, is tied around the lamb’s neck. Many of these lambs also hold a colored foil banner bearing the emblem of a lamb or a cross—recalling similar banners carried by Christian crusaders to the Holy Land a thousand years ago.

When you’re in Europe around Easter, look for the special Easter breads in local bakeries. You’ll likely be tempted by all the good pastries as well.

This shop offers Austrian breads and pastries which are as good as they look.

ITALY

Italy offers a rich variety of regional Easter breads, including Genoa’s pane dolce (sweet bread) full of raisins, candied fruit peel and pine nuts; Umbria’s cylindrical, cheese-flavored crescia; Venice’s large fugassa di Pasqua buns; and Cesenatico’s ring-shaped ciambelle, seasoned with anise and lemon peel. In Sicily, the edible centerpiece of the Easter meal is a large yeast bread shaped like a crown, with colored hard-boiled eggs embedded in the top. In some parts of Italy an old custom is still followed when Easter breads are made: the shell of the first egg put into the dough is cracked on the head of a young boy—supposedly to keep bad luck at bay.

The Easter bread most popular throughout all of Italy is a specialty originally from Lombardy—the columba di Pasqua (or columba pasquale), a sweet yeast bread full of candied orange peel, raisins, and almonds, made in the shape of a dove. Some of the fancier columbe have pockets of orange- or champagne-flavored pastry cream inside. Others are made with swirls of light and dark (chocolate-flavored) dough, like marble cakes. The plainest ones are garnished with only a simple sugar glaze, but the more elegant columbe are elaborately decorated with almond paste, white or pastel icing, chocolate, nuts or sugar-paste flowers.

(bottom left and right) Italian Easter dove cakes (columbe di Pascua) are a symbol of springtime, the Holy Spirit, and peace.; Italian cheese-flavored crescia loaves for Easter, at a bakery in Umbria

GREECE

Maundy Thursday, three days before Easter, is the time when Greeks bake their holiday breads. Known as tsoureki or lambropsomo, these sweet, eggy breads are traditionally flavored with mahlepi, an unusual spice made from the finely-ground seeds of a type of cherry. Other Greek bakers add mastikha, pulverized crystals of sap from mastic shrubs that grow on the island of Chios. Cinnamon, nutmeg, cardamom and allspice can also go into the dough, as well as orange and lemon peel.

Greek Easter bread is made in different shapes from one region to another: a long braid, a braided wreath, a round loaf with bread-dough decorations on top in the form of leaves, flowers or a Byzantine cross. Each shape has its own symbolism. The three strands of braided dough represent the Holy Trinity. Wreaths and rings not only recall Christ’s crown of thorns but are also pre-Christian fertility symbols. Round shapes represent the life-giving sun, rebirth and resurrection. And no Greek Easter bread would be complete without one or more red-colored eggs—customarily dyed on Maundy Thursday—pressed into the top before baking.

SPAIN

The Spanish corona de Pascua (Easter crown) is another bread whose shape and symbolism is similar to Easter breads in many Mediterranean countries. Made from a sweet yeast-raised dough, the corona de Pascua is flavored with raisins, almonds, candied fruit peel, lemon and olive oil. Three strands of dough are first braided together, then formed into a ring. Whole, hard-boiled eggs are nestled into the top of the braid, usually one egg for each member of the family. Some people leave the eggshells white; others dye them red or a variety of spring colors.

Another Spanish Easter bread known as monja (nun) probably got its name from the nuns who traditionally baked breads, pastries and confections to sell from behind their convent walls. This orange-flavored bread—much like ones also found in Greece, Macedonia and Bulgaria—is round in shape, with a cross made of bread dough on top and four red-dyed eggs embedded at each point of the cross.

In the Castile region of Spain, Easter is celebrated with a large round loaf of bread in which shelled hard-boiled eggs, diced bacon,and chunks of Spanish sausages were imbedded in the dough before baking. And at Easter-time in some parts of Spain, godparents give their godchildren tortas de aceite, small savory buns made from yeast dough seasoned with orange, anise, and olive oil, with a single hard-boiled egg nestled in the center.

RUSSIA AND UKRAINE

Since Easter is a springtime celebration of new life, it’s not surprising that many traditional Easter breads are made in the form of ancient fertility symbols. The most graphic of these are the tall, cylindrical breads with a puffy dome on top, whose phallic symbolism is unmistakable. Festive breads of this shape are made in both France and Italy, but the most famous is Russia’s kulich, a saffron-scented yeast bread flavored with raisins, almonds and candied fruit peel. The domes are frosted with white icing that dribbles down the sides in a further reinforcement of the fertility image. The kulichi can also be decorated with colored sugar sprinkles or candied fruits, and a long thin red candle is usually stuck into the top of the dome. On Easter, Russian Orthodox churches are often filled with these special breads, their candles lighted, awaiting blessing by the priest.

Velikodnia babka is the Ukrainian version of this tall, yeasty Easter bread, with raisins, almonds and candied peel kneaded into the dough. Another traditional Ukrainian Easter bread is velikodnia paska, made from a rich yeast dough containing plenty of butter, sugar, and eggs, and shaped into large rounds. The tops are fancily decorated with ornaments made out of dough, usually with a cross as the center motif surrounded by elaborate swirls, small birds, leaves,or flowers. Perekladnets is a special, colorful Easter treat, a kind of coffee-cake loaf made with lemon-scented yeast dough and three different layers of filling: chopped dried peaches or apricots with candied fruits; chopped figs, dates and walnuts; and chopped almonds with candied cherries.

Russian *kulich*, a tall cylindrical Easter bread often baked in a coffee can.

GREAT BRITAIN

Hot-cross buns are the most typical Easter bread in Great Britain. Baked on Good Friday, these round, slightly sweet buns often have chopped fruit peel and currants, raisins or sultanas in the dough. A cross is cut into the top of each bun before baking, or a strip of dough is used to make the form of a cross on top, to keep away evil on this sad day of remembering Christ’s crucifixion.

In some parts of Britain, a hot-cross bun is hung up in the house to keep away bad luck (fire, theft, illness) until Good Friday of the following year. Buns are also hung in the barns to protect the grain from rodents. As in the rest of Europe, these British hot-cross buns are an example of the powerful symbolism of breads baked for the Easter season.

Second Breakfast in Europe

Munich’s beer gardens are popular places to eat “second breakfast” in nice weather.

By Sharon Hudgins
Photos by the author

Sausages and beer for breakfast? Sure, especially if you’re chowing down on the second meal of the day before lunch.

If breakfast is good for you, a second one is even better. Between 10 and 11 in the morning, Germans head to their favorite restaurant or cafe for a zweites Frühstück (second breakfast), while Austrians sit down at a Gabelfrühstück (fork breakfast). The British pause for tea at “elevenses,” the Spanish pop into the nearest bar for coffee and a mid-morning snack, las onces (the elevens), and the French stop for a similar pick-me-up at home, at work and at school.

DINING DOUBLE
The custom of double dining originated centuries ago in rural areas where farmhands ate a light, early breakfast before going out to take care of the animals and work in the fields, then ate again in the late morning after all that hard physical labor. The practice was later adopted by urban dwellers, as a way to stave off hunger pangs until the mid-afternoon main meal in Mediterranean countries, and to stay warm in northern Europe, where most housing didn’t have central heating and lunch wasn’t served before one o’clock. Second breakfast served a social function, too, as an informal occasion to meet friends at a cafe for conversations over coffee, tea or beer.

Today, both on the farm and in the city, many south Germans and Austrians still start the day with a light meal of hot coffee, bread or small rolls spread with butter and jam, perhaps accompanied by a boiled egg or a few slices of ham and cheese. Their second breakfast might be more or less substantial: ham, sausage, fish or cheese stuffed into rolls; a bowl of goulash soup or a small plate of goulash stew with bread on the side; cakes or pastries for those with a sweet tooth; and more cups of hot coffee or a even a glass of beer.

MUNICH’S SECOND BREAKFAST
In southern Germany the Bavarians have their own special kind of second breakfast particularly associated with Munich, the capital city. In mid- to late-morning, Müncheners head to their favorite traditional Bavarian restaurant for a meal of Weisswurst (white sausage) and Weizenbier (wheat beer, also known as Weissbier), consumed in the cozy comfort of an old-fashioned, wood-paneled inn. If they’re in a hurry, they’ll just stop off at the nearest little Stehcafe for a standup snack of white sausages and beer.

Invented in 1857 by Sepp Moser, a Munich butcher and innkeeper, Weisswurst is a fresh, mild-tasting sausage made of finely chopped veal, pork fat and onion, combined with a bit of fresh green parsley and other seasonings that remain the secret of each butcher: salt, white pepper, nutmeg, cardamom, cloves, mace, ginger, sugar and lemon peel. The mixture is stuffed into pigs’ intestines, tied into plump sausages about five inches long, and simmered for a few minutes in hot water. The cooked sausages are served immersed in hot water, too, in a ceramic or stainless-steel tureen. Locals always order them by the Stück (piece), not the pair, even if they want only two. Why? It’s just a Munich tradition.

Munich’s Weisses Braeuhaus is a favorite spot for locals to gather for a “second breakfast” of *Weisswurst* and *Weissbier*.

EATING ETIQUETTE
Once you’ve speared a Weisswurst with your fork and transferred it to your plate, the trick is to free the soft white sausage meat from the tough-textured pigs’ casings, which are not meant to be eaten. Some Müncheners will tell you to slice off one end of the sausage and suck out half the filling, then cut off the other end and aspirate the rest. Others insist that the sausage should be cut in half, crosswise, and the stuffing sucked out from the middle. But better manners suggest slicing the Weisswurst lengthwise and peeling off the skin with your fork or just scraping the meat away from it.

Munich’s Weisswurst is always accompanied by a dab of sweet, mild, grainy brown mustard; soft, yeasty pretzels about 6 inches wide, with coarse salt baked on the crust; and a half liter of wheat beer served in a classic tall Weizenbier glass, narrow at the bottom and bulbous at the top.

No later than noon, their second breakfast completed, Müncheners will have moved on to other pursuits before lunch. Anyone ordering Weisswurst after twelve is obviously an outsider—and many restaurant menus state that Weisswurst is not served after 12:00 p.m. The custom derives from the era before widespread refrigeration, when fresh raw sausages had to be cooked and eaten soon, before they spoiled. A Munich Weisswurst made in the morning is never supposed to hear the clock strike noon.

WHERE TO EAT WEISSWURST IN MUNICH
Weisses Bräuhaus, Tal 7. Open daily 7 a.m. – 2 a.m., www.weisses-brauhaus.de

Zum Spöckmeier, Rosenstrasse 9. Open daily from 9:30 a.m. – 1:00 a.m.

Gastätte Grossmarkthalle, Kochelseestrasse 13. Open Monday – Friday, 7 a.m. – 7 p.m., Saturday 7 a.m. – 1 p.m., www.gaststätte-grossmarkthalle.de

Franziskaner Fuchsnstubn, Perusastrasse 5. Open daily, 9 a.m. – midnight

Stammhaus Zum Augustiner, Neuhauserstrasse 27. Open daily 10 a.m. – midnight, www.augustiner-restaurant.com

Magnificent Marzipan

By Sharon Hudgins
Photos by the author

I’ve been in love marzipan ever since I first tasted it as a child. Back then, marzipan candy was a rare and expensive treat, often difficult to find in the United States. But when I later moved to Europe, I discovered a whole world of marzipan, enough to nourish my lifelong love affair with this seductive sweet.

I’ll admit it: I’ve never met a marzipan I didn’t like.

Marzipan is nothing more than a smooth paste of finely ground blanched sweet almonds mixed with sugar. Other ingredients are sometimes added, too, such as water, egg whites, sugar syrup, honey, almond extract, a small amount of bitter almonds, rosewater, orange blossom water and food colorings. But that description doesn’t do justice to the tantalizing taste of this tempting treat, nor to the many ways in which marzipan is used today by professional confectioners and home cooks.

On the grocery shelf, the difference between “almond paste” and “marzipan” is mainly the ratio of sugar to almonds, with marzipan containing more sugar. That ratio varies, depending on the individual producers and the various countries where this confection is made, some of which have laws regulating the proportion of each ingredient. The finest German marzipans contain two parts (or more) of ground almonds to one part of sugar. Others contain 50% almonds and 50% sugar. Danish Odense marzipan, the European brand marketed widely in the United States, has only 28% almonds. (Odense “Pure Almond Paste” contains 45% almonds.)

MARZIPAN MIGRATION
Culinary historians think that marzipan originally came to Europe from the Middle East, where almond trees and sugar cane have been grown since ancient times, and where there’s a long history of making sweets from almond paste. Even though the early Greeks and Phoenicians planted almond trees around the Mediterranean region, it was the Arabs who expanded the almond orchards, introduced sugar cane cultivation, and began producing marzipan in the areas of southern Europe they conquered and colonized between the 8th and 11th centuries. After Arab power waned in those parts of the Mediterranean, during the 11th to 15th centuries, the secrets of marzipan-making were preserved by nuns in Catholic convents, who produced these sinful sweets for sale to support themselves. That’s why former Arab-ruled lands such as Spain, Sicily, and Malta still have strong marzipan traditions today.

Historians surmise that marzipan spread to northern Europe from Venice and the eastern Mediterranean during the time of the Christian Crusades, from the 11th through 13th centuries. Certainly by the Middle Ages marzipan was known in France, England, and Germany, although in many places it was considered a costly medicine, sold only in pharmacies. It soon became a favored confection of the upper classes, whose cooks molded marzipan into elaborate and fantastic shapes for use as showy centerpieces or edible finales to medieval feasts.

MARZIPAN MANUFACTURE
A traditional confection in Europe for several centuries, marzipan is made today by both artisan confectioners and big industrial plants. Centers of marzipan manufacture include Toledo, Spain; Palermo, Sicily; Budapest, Hungary; and Lübeck, Germany. Each has its own style of marzipan, with more or less sugar, baked or unbaked, and modeled into more shapes than you can imagine. At marzipan stores in Europe, I’ve seen this sweetened, colored almond paste formed into fruits, vegetables and flowers, from miniature to life-size; animals from penguins, polar bears and “good luck” pigs (for the New Year) to walruses, lions, hedgehogs and squirrels; Easter eggs and Easter rabbits; Santas and angels; fish and shellfish; lifelike sandwiches, cheeses and sausages; even modern marzipan cell phones and McDonald’s-like cardboard packets full of french fries.

Marzipan has other uses, too. Europeans fill chocolates with marzipan; wrap it around nuts, candied fruits and other sweet fillings; bake it inside cookies; and stuff dates, prunes, peaches and apples with it. They roll marzipan into thin sheets as a covering for fancy cakes and use it as ingredient in tortes and tartes, pies and pastries, sorbets and ice creams, even sweet dumplings, ravioli and roast pork. I once ate at a restaurant in Lübeck that featured “marzipan lasagna” for dessert, made with layers of white marzipan “pasta” and a red and green fondant filling.

MARZIPAN MUSEUMS
Several cities in Europe have marzipan museums, most of them attached to a confection company’s coffee shop, candy shop or factory store. The Niederegger Marzipan Salon, on the second floor of the Konditorei-Café Niederegger in Lübeck, Germany, has a display about the history of marzipan. But the actual shop on the ground floor is even more interesting, where you can buy more than 300 types of the company’s products, including whimsical edibles made out of marzipan and Niederegger’s irresistible Cuandolé marzipan liqueur.

Leu’s Marzipan-Land in Lübeck features a “Marzipan-Show” on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. You’ll see all the stages in the manufacture of marzipan, as well as an unusual exhibition of large marzipan sculptures, before pigging out in the shop where you’ll be tempted to buy more marzipan than you should ever eat in one sitting.

Hungary boasts three marzipan museums, all owned by the Szabo confectionery company. My favorite is the Szabo Marzipan Museum in Szentendre, a pleasant (but now overly touristy) little artists’ village not far from Budapest. This small museum is chock full of displays of colored marzipan shaped into Disney characters, a Cinderella coach, a massive wedding cake, a cactus garden and even a detailed replica of the Hungarian parliament building. On the ground floor there’s a traditional confectionery kitchen where you can watch marzipan being made and a shop where you can buy goodies to go. Next door the Szabo café-and-pastry shop offers a wide variety of luscious Hungarian cakes, tortes, ice cream concoctions, marzipan candies, coffees and teas.

The smaller Szabo Marzipan Museum in Budapest features large marzipan sculptures of the Matthias Church, the Fishermen’s Bastion, and the Chain Bridge across the Danube (all local landmarks), a Chinese pagoda, several Harry Potter characters and other curiosities, some made from more than 100 pounds of marzipan. And there’s another Szabo Marzipan Museum in Pécs, also connected with one of their coffee-and-pastry shops.

In Sonseca, Spain, just south of historic Toledo, you can visit the interesting Delaviuda Marzipan Museum at the Delaviuda candy factory, which shows how Spain’s distinctive (and delicious) marzipan is made. And finally, Tallinn, the capital of Estonia, also has a couple of small marzipan museums in the Old Town. I just haven’t managed to eat my way that far north yet.

ADDRESSES AND WEBSITES:
Konditorei-Café Niederegger, Breit Strasse 89, Lübeck, Germany
www.niederegger.de/en/cafe_niederegger/marzipansalon/
marzipansalon.php

Leu’s Marzipan-Land, Drechlerstrasse 6, Lübeck, Germany
www.marzipanland.de/eng.html

Szabo Marzipan Museum, Hilton Budapest, Hungary
Szabo Marzipan Museum, Dumtsa Jeno St. 14, Szentendre, Hungary
Szabo Marzipan Museum, Apaca St. 1, Pécs, Hungary
www.szabomarcipan.hu/angol.html

Delaviuda Marzipan Museum, Calle Santa Maria 4, Sonseca, Spain www.delaviuda.com

Gingerbread Galore!

By Sharon Hudgins
Photos by the author

‘Tis the season when a young elf’s fancy turns to thoughts of gingerbread. Although these sweet-spicy cakes and cookies are popular year-round in many countries of Europe, they’re particularly associated with the winter holidays. Bakeries from Sweden to Slovakia to Switzerland turn out tons of commercial gingerbread products, often packaged in brightly colored wrappings and tin boxes. And home bakers dig through kitchen drawers and recipe files to find favorite cookie cutters and family recipes for their own Christmas gingerbreads.

Although flatcakes made with honey and spices were baked by the ancient Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans, the gingerbreads of northern Europe probably date only from the Middle Ages, when honey was still the main type of sweetener available locally, and exotic, expensive spices such as cinnamon, black pepper and ginger were increasingly being imported from faraway lands in the East. A taste for gingerbread eventually spread throughout Europe, with certain cities becoming known for their own particular types: Strasbourg and Dijon in France, Torun in Poland, Tula in Russia, Aachen and Nürnberg in Germany, Basel and St. Gallen in Switzerland.

MANY VARIETIES
Gingerbread recipes evolved over time and in diverse places. Various kinds of gingerbread were, and still are, made with different combinations of honey, sugar, flour, eggs, almonds, hazelnuts, walnuts, raisins, lemons, candied orange peel, candied citron, rosewater, rum, brandy, black pepper, ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg, cloves, allspice, cardamom, coriander, aniseed and saffron. Although these baked goods are often referred to as “gingerbread” in English, some of them don’t contain any ginger at all.

The variety of possible ingredients and textures causes some confusion about what “gingerbread” actually is. A cake, a cookie, or a loaf? Hard or soft? Thick or thin? Glazed or unglazed? Decorated with fancy frostings, or with fruits and nuts, or even with expensive gold leaf? At various times in its history, gingerbread has been all of these.

GERMAN GINGERBREAD
In the Middle Ages, the city of Nürnberg became one of the most famous places for making gingerbreads in Germany, where these seductive sweets have long been known as Lebkuchen (or sometimes Pfefferkuchen, when their spiciness comes from black pepper instead of ginger). Records show that Lebkuchen was being baked in Nürnberg as early as the 14th century. Traditionally, the stiff dough was pressed into highly detailed molds made of wood, metal, or terra cotta, which imprinted intricate designs on the Lebkuchen before it was removed from the molds and baked in a hot oven. Nürnberg Lebkuchen contained such costly ingredients, and was of such high quality, that it was accepted as payment for city taxes and given as gifts to nobles, princes, and heads of state.

Over time, as the prices of ingredients fell and the demand for Lebkuchen increased, faster production methods became necessary. The elaborate handmade molds were replaced by less detailed, often mass-produced, molds. Simpler decorations―such as nuts, candied fruit, and sugar frostings―were applied to the tops of many cookies. And the shapes were simplified, too, evolving into the basic human, animal, and geometric forms common today.

In the early 1800s, gingerbread houses became popular in Germany after the publication of the Grimm brothers’ fairy tale, Hansel and Gretel. And during the 19th century, ornately decorated Lebkuchen hearts also became the rage. Covered with fancy designs and romantic sayings made from colored icing, these large heart-shaped cookies were often exchanged between sweethearts. You can still buy them at almost every German festival and special market, including the Christmas markets held in many German cities throughout December.

The Lebkuchen produced in Germany today comes in all sorts of sizes, shapes, flavors, colors and textures: rounds, rectangles, squares, hearts, stars, pretzel forms, St. Nicholas (for Christmas), lucky pigs (for New Year) and rabbits (for Easter). The Lebkuchen dough can be “white” (light colored) or different shades of brown. Some Lebkuchen are also covered with white or chocolate icing, and some are filled with marzipan or jam. Honey Lebkuchen is sweetened only (or primarily) with honey. Oblaten Lebkuchen are cookies with the dough mounded on top of a thin wafer before baking. And delicate, elegant Elisen Lebkuchen are made with at least 25% ground almonds, hazelnuts, or walnuts, and no more than 10% flour.

GINGERBREADS ACROSS EUROPE
You’ll also find similar spicy cookies of different shapes, colors and textures called Printen (in Aachen, Germany), Pfefferkuchen (in Pulsnitz, Germany), Spekulatius (in the German Rhineland), Leckerli (in Basel, Switzerland), Biberli (in the Appenzell region of Switzerland), speculaas Holland, speculoos in Belgium, pepperkaker in Norway, pepparkakor in Sweden, piperkakut in Finland, pebernǿdder in Denmark, pain d’épices in France, licitar in Croatia, mézeskalács in Hungary, perníky in the Czech Republic and Slovakia, pierniki in Poland and prianiki in Russia. Other towns and regions have their own specific names for the many varieties of gingerbreads produced there.

Europeans also use gingerbread cookies as ingredients in other dishes. You’ll find crumbled gingerbread used as a stuffing for pork and for pasta, as a thickener for sauces, a flavoring for soups, a crunchy texture in salad dressings, and a base for many puddings and desserts. There’s even a German-Italian “fusion” dessert called ” Nürnberger Tiramisu”! And for people who just can’t get enough of that sweet, spicy, Christmasy taste of gingerbread, the Belgians have recently invented a gingery, caramely speculoos spread, similar in texture to Nutella, made from crushed gingerbread cookies.

If I’ve whetted your appetite for these European gingerbreads, my best suggestion is to travel there and taste them for yourself. You can also mail order many of them from the websites listed below. Costard, the clown in Shakespeare’s play, “Love’s Labour’s Lost,” had the right idea when he said, “An’ I had but one penny in the world, thou shouldst have it to buy gingerbread.”

Nürnberg Lebkuchen information www.lebkuchen.nuernberg.de/englische_version/index.html

Lebkuchen-Schmidt, Nürnberg
ww2.lebkuchen-schmidt.com/eng_index.php

Metzger Lebkuchen, Vienna
www.lebkuchenmetzger.at/

Lebkuchen-Pirker, Mariazell, Austria
www.lebkuchen-pirker.at/home/index.php?&lang+eng

Kerner Lebkuchen, Mariazell, Austria
www.lebzelterei-kerner.at/index.htm

Lebkuchen-Gandl, St. Wolfgang, Austria
www.lebkuchen-gandl.com/

Appenzeller Biberli, Switzerland
www.baerli-biber.ch/

Basel Läckerli, Switzerland
www.laeckerli-huus.ch/

French-Alsatian Pain d’Épices
www.paindepices-lips.com
www.fortwenger.fr/

Alte Pfefferkuechlerei (small gingerbread museum in Weissenberg,Germany) www.museum.stadt-weissenberg.de/

Speculoos Spread
www.thenibble.com/zine/archives/speculoos-spread.asp

YouTube video about how to make decorated European gingerbread
www.youtube.com/watch?v=OVX5wiv_oMk

American online sources for ordering European gingerbreads
www.germandeli.com
www.germangrocery.com

Germany’s Black Forest: Home of the Famous Wooden Cuckoo Clock

Jack, the cuckoo clock demonstrator in the Black Forest, explains the history and manufacturing process at the Familia Drubba’s Hofgut Sternen in Breitnau, Germany.

By Marilyn Heimburger
Photos by the author

One of my early childhood memories is watching my aunt change the time on her cuckoo clock so I could hear the cuckoo sound over and over again.

My grandfather, who emigrated from Germany at the age of 22, bought the clock during his only visit back to his homeland, after World War II. Since my fascination with the clock has continued into adulthood, I was happy to learn more about them during a trip to Familia Drubba’s Hofgut Sternen. Breitnau, in Germany’s Black Forest, which was a stopover destination included in a Rhine River Viking Cruise I took recently.

GREETED BY CUCKOO AND MUSIC

If you pull into the Hofgut Sternen parking lot at the top of the hour, you’ll be greeted by the cuckoo, music, and dancing characters of one of the largest cuckoo clocks in Germany. The two-story-high clock is built into the side of the shop.

Inside the building, Jack, the cuckoo clock demonstrator, briefly explains the history and manufacturing process of Germany’s most popular souvenir. A primitive form of the cuckoo clock dates back to the mid-1600’s and used stones as weights (the original “rock around the clock,” according to Jack.) It had no minute hand, only one hand to tell the hour. Shield clocks, with a flat face board painted with colorful flowers and scenes, were made around 1720, with the first cuckoo appearing in one around 1760. The station house clock, with a peaked roof and hand-carved leaves and animals, appeared around 1860.

The cuckoo sound was chosen for the clock because it was an easy sound to imitate. Two different sized bellows send puffs of air into two wooden pipes, to produce the two-pitched cuckoo sound.

At least two pinecone-shaped weights hang on chains beneath the clock: one to operate the cuckoo and one for the cog-driven timing mechanism. If the clock has a third weight, it has been fitted with a music box, which plays after the call of the cuckoo. The clocks are “wound” by pulling the chains to raise the weights to their highest position. Clocks with large pinecone weights are wound once a week; clocks with small pinecones are wound every day. While my aunt had to still the oak leaf pendulum every night to stop the clock and quiet the cuckoo, many clocks now have a switch that turns off the cuckoo and music, but allows the clock to keep running.

The Linden Tree wood is used in the clocks because it is easy to carve and features very little grain.

CLOCKS FROM LINDEN TREE WOOD

Most cuckoo clocks are made of wood from the Linden tree, because it is easy to carve and has hardly any grain. Since the wood is so moist, it has to dry for two years before it can be used. To make the frame board for the front of the station house clock, a stencil is placed against the flat board, and the basic outline is lightly spray-painted. This design is cut using a scroll saw or jig saw. Nothing else is done by machine. The rest of the frame board is hand-carved, a process that can take six to eight weeks for a large clock. Vines, oak leaves, birds, rabbits and stags are the traditional decorations on station house clocks.

Character clocks add humor to timekeeping. One clock at Hofgut Sternen features a man shoveling a dumpling into his mouth with each sounding of the hour. The “mother-in-law clock” has a woman bopping a lazy son-in-law on his head at the top of the hour, to encourage him to get to work.

An interesting observation: during all of the years I’ve looked at cuckoo clocks, I had never noticed that the Roman numeral used for the number four on the clock face is IIII, and not IV. Two theories sem to be most popular explaniations for this. In ancient Roman times, “IV” was an abbreviation for the Roman god, Jupiter. IIII was therefore used out of respect so that Roman public sundials or clocks didn’t have “1 2 3 GOD 5” on them. Later clock markers continued to use this alternative Roman numeral system on their timepieces. The other theory is simply one of symmetry on the clock face. The number eight, or “VIII” on the clock dial, is the heaviest number, consisting of four characters. Using IV (only two characters) for the number 4 on the opposite side of the clock face, would ruin the symmetry. Therefore the four-character “IIII” is preferred.

I am now the proud owner of my aunt’s cuckoo clock. The carved oak leaf decorations show evience of being dropped and re-glued by my uncle. But the cuckoo still works, and now enchants my grandchildren just as it did for me.

In the Black Forest, these men and women, in typical colorful garb from the region, are tour guides who know the towns, mountains and legends of this famous area.

IF YOU WANT MORE INFORMATION…

These retailers sell German-made cuckoo clocks on the web. We have listed them as a convenience to European Traveler readers, but we have no specific recommendations who to buy them from: www.clockway.com, www.german-cuckoos.com, www.BlackForestGifts.com and www.designedintime.com.