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.

Hot cross buns are an Easter favorite.
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.

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.

Sign for the Mazapan Artesano

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

Lamb Stew Hits the Spot in Ireland

Photos courtesy of Tourism Ireland

County Wicklow is famous for its sheep and wool, and the Wicklow Mountains have been renowned from the earliest times for the native breeds, which are of a distinct type, and have been on the mountains for centuries. The date of origin of the Wicklow Mountain sheep can only be approximated, but one thing is for sure, the Irish have many seasonal, regional and tasty recipes to take care of nature’s providence, including plenty for the less popular cuts.

This recipe is a twist on the typical Irish lamb stew with a few additional flavors thrown in such as basil, oregano, celery, mushrooms and red wine. It comes from Wicklow Lady Fiona Teehan, whose mother is handed a gift of a whole sheep every year in return for some sheep-minding duties by her father. Fiona is manager of Pembroke Townhouse, a superb example of classic Georgian elegance in the heart of Dublin’s Ballsbridge area, just a 10-minute walk from the city center.

WICKLOW STEW
Serves 4
Ingredients:
3 tablesp sunflower oil
1 shoulder of Wicklow lamb, boned, trimmed of excess fat and cut into small cubes
3-4 sticks of celery, chopped into 1 inch lengths
1 onion, finely chopped
4 oz mushrooms, halved
1/2 c. red wine
1 c. vegetable stock
1 tablesp cornstarch
1 tablesp fresh basil, finely chopped (or 1 teasp dried basil)
1 tablesp fresh oregano, finely chopped (or 1 teasp dried oregano)
1 teasp grated lemon rind
Sea salt and freshly ground black pepper to taste
To garnish: freshly chopped herbs (some or all of basil / oregano / parsley)
To serve: mashed potato (or buttered noodles or boiled long grain rice to your preference)

Method
1. Heat half of the oil in a frying pan. When the oil is hot, add the lamb cubes and fry them, stirring frequently for about 10 minutes until they are well browned. Transfer the meat to a plate.
2. Heat the remaining oil in a casserole. Add the celery, onion and mushrooms and continue cooking over the heat until the onion is just soft.
3. Add the wine to the pan and boil well for two minutes.
4. Blend the stock together with the cornstarch and pour the mixture into the pan.
5. Add the basil, oregano, lemon rind. Season with the salt and pepper. Then, add back the cubed lamb. Mix well with the rest of the ingredients.
6. Cover with a lid or tinfoil, reduce the heat and simmer gently for 40-45 minutes or until the lamb is tender.
7. Sprinkle with a garnish of freshly chopped herbs (as above). Serve piping hot with mashed potato, (or buttered noodles or boiled long grain rice to your preference)

Optional: If you like garlic, add four cloves of minced Garlic with the onions.

To freeze: This dish freezes well. Cool quickly and pour into a freezer-proof container or bag. Label and freeze. Do not store in freezer for longer than two months.

For more info, go to Discover Ireland.

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.comwww.german-cuckoos.comwww.BlackForestGifts.com and www.designedintime.com.

The Christmas Markets of Hamburg

Perhaps surprisingly, Hamburg’s Weihnachtsmarkt at the Rathaus in the center of Hamburg is a relative newcomer to the world of Christmas Markets in Germany.

Several years ago the city fathers decided to look for a new concept for its holiday market, and found a creative partner in Bernhard Paul, director of Roncalli’s Circus. With its colorful circus-themed market stalls and entertainment, including a nostalgic carousel and historic fairground organ, the Christmas market at the Rathausmarkt opened for only its eighth year in 2007. In that short time, however, it has become one of the most popular markets in northern Germany, with nearly three million visitors each year.

LEBKUCHEN AND GLUHWEIN ABOUND

About 80 dealers from all over Germany gather to sell their handicrafts and food specialties. Shoppers enjoy the smell of roasted almonds, Lebkuchen and Gluhwein as they stroll through the rows of vendors, who are grouped according to their wares.

One row is filled with toys, including model trains. Handcrafters such as glassblowers, makers of hats or lanterns and amber jewelry are in another aisle. There is a food specialties area that includes cheese from Tirol, Christstollen from Dresden, Lebkuchen from Nurnberg and candy makers in action. Tired shoppers can enjoy genuine German refreshments indoors at the colorful Art Nouveau Viennese café at the market.

Three times each day Santa Claus, in his sleigh pulled by reindeer, flies high over the market to the sound of American Christmas carols –is that Bing Crosby I hear? Standing in a basket suspended under the moving sleigh is the Christkind (Christmas angel who delivers gifts to the children), waving at the crowd in the market below.

A city as large as Hamburg will, of course, have more than one Christmas market to attract visitors.

Of the 12—that’s correct, 12—Hamburg Christmas markets, one of the trendiest is Weihnachtsmarkt Jungfernstieg, which overlooks the beautiful Inner Alster Lake. White is the theme color of this market:
white lights highlight the vendor booths, which are covered by soaring white roofs, and are topped with white star-lit peaks. Open for only its second season in 2007, this unique market boasts an ice-skating rink and an open-air lounge, which supplies warm blankets to customers. Shoppers can find clothes and jewelry along with traditional nutcrackers and food specialties.

MINIATUR WUNDERLAND

If rainy weather limits your time at the outdoor Christmas Markets, take advantage of some of the many attractions that Hamburg has to offer. Miniatur Wunderland is the world’s largest model railway and is housed next to the Elbe River in Hamburg’s warehouse district. The trains run on several different levels of the building, and a full-time paid staff monitors the miniature world.

Allow several hours to enjoy the more than 700 model trains, which run through scenery modeled after Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Scandinavia, and even the Western United States. See a circus in action, cars driving on highways and ships sailing the ocean. See fires break out and emergency trucks speed to the rescue. And then there are the trains—they are everywhere—and they are of every kind, all running as if they were on prototype railroads. And every half hour, daylight becomes nighttime inside this miniature HO scale world. There is an admission, and a nice gift shop.

It will be hard to pull kids away; perhaps dads won’t want to leave, either! Check out this fascinating world at www.miniatur-wunderland.de

BALLINSTADT EMIGRATION MUSEUM

Hamburg’s BallinStadt Museum offers an amazing and detailed look at the history of emigration to America via the port of Hamburg.

The museum is named after Albert Ballin, director of the HAPAG shipping company, who had a 30-building departure city built between 1901 and 1907 for emigrants. The museum is located on this site and housed in three reconstructed Housing Pavilions.

A model constructed beneath the floor and viewed from above through glass, shows the layout of the original departure city. Interactive exhibits tell the emigrants’ stories, and show what daily life was like as they awaited their journey to America. A family research center at the museum offers the opportunity to access Hamburg passenger lists from 1850 to 1934.

Easily reached by public transportation, the BallinStadt Museum shows how the Port of Hamburg became known as the emigrant’s gateway to the world. www.ballinstadt.de

If you’re ready for more shopping, and weather is still dampening the outdoor markets, try indoor shopping at the Europa Passage. Architect Hadi Teherani designed this structure with a glass ceiling and 21 arches, which connects five floors filled with 130 shops and restaurants. Located with a view of the Inner Alster, (one of Hamburg’s lakes), the mall offers modern, upscale shopping in light-filled arcades. www.europa-passage.de

For accommodations within walking distance from the Europa Passage, the Rathausmarkt, and the Christmas market Jungfernstieg, try the Hotel Atlantic Kempinski. First opened in 1909, this luxury hotel next to the Outer Alster served passengers awaiting their departure on ocean liners. Now it is a local landmark, recognized from afar by its white-lit rooftop globe and ladies emblem, which was used in the James Bond film “Tomorrow Never Dies.”

A sumptuous breakfast buffet and beautifully appointed lobby with tea service, offer the traveler warmth and welcome after a full day of rewarding Hamburg experiences.
www.kempinski.atlantic.de

For more information about Hamburg, visit their website at www.hamburg-tourism.de