me gotta wonderful friend in cape town and he’s head over heals into sweets. me’s still dreamin about our fridge stuffed with trays and trays full of loads and loads of things that would’ve clung to my hips for ages if. i. would. have. but. i. haven’t. hadn’t. didn’t. serendipitously (thx, miss E) i don’t have no sweet tooth at all – a hunk of choc or cream or cake or whatsoever just doesn’t strike me as interesting (well, at least as long as there’s no marklew chard involved, but that’s another story to tell). no idea how we managed to get along with each other so well, but we did. him and me and mr hitchens and mr dakwins, mr ariely, mr vedral, mr degrass and all the others, capable of questioning and thinking.
tonight christian along with me, both of us
thirsty hungry after a long day’s journey into night, were in helluva desperation finding an appropriate place to satisfy our basic needs: eat, drink, talk. alas all of all of all of all that turned out to be kinduva mission ‘cause me as well as christian were far too lazy to walk or drive anywhere. futhermore our favourite bar was damn closed due to our damn favourite host’s damn holiday. so, initially as a consolation, we dediced to make it at least a stone’s throw away from our office, where – almost secluded unless disregarded (at least for us) – a restaurant by the name opitergium eks out its existence.
the astonishing truth is: it doesn’t eke at all. i’ve been there a couple of times before, so was christian, and none of us was ever disappointed. in contrary: i was always more than pleased and can’t stop wondering why i just can’t keep them in mind when it comes to answer the core question: where to go when
thirsty hungry? maybe its this particular lack of vibe i can’t quite put my finger on… dunno. whatsoever: if you feel like decent, lovely, honest, quality-driven italian food: go there. you’ll be happy and so were we savoring away fish carpaccio and salad (crawdad plus avo), fresh, crispy, lovely. accompanied by a tasty dry white blend (chardonnay and vino bianco).
Dinner at Christian’s
back from my mom’s birthday christian cheered me up with delicious lamb chops covered with a tarragon-breadcrumb-butter-crust, accompanied by yellow lentils (faboulous!) and a horseraddish espuma. loved it. as both of us couldnt stop eating it became increasinlgy difficult to breathe properly, so we decided to walk our tummies a bit - a chance our feet didnt let slip, they led us straight to the bar ‘NEU’ in 218 greifswalder street where, somehow wondrously, one (okay, maybe two) too many gin tonic (hendrick’s!) helped themselves down our throat. gently, but no the less resolutely!
I am not a big fan of meditation and all that zen and ying and yang stuff. But what i believe is there is something like a placewhere you can have a great dinner and forget about everything else surrounding you and end up being relaxed, happy and in a pretty good mood. One of those places is sasaya, the best place for japanese food in Berlin (also see our section “Eating out in Berlin” at the bottom of the page).
While Ann is probably in the kitchen since the early morning, working hard on those spareribs that will for sure make my day later on, me, her lazy colleague, is sitting on the sofa flicking through my recent favourite magazine: Lucky peach.
“A quarterly journal of food and writing. Each issue focuses on a single theme, and explores that theme through essays, art, photography, and recipes.”
yesterday we had dinner – outdoor! – at aromi’s, eagerly taking advantage of one out of three awesome warm nights we had so far. reckon that’s all we are put of with this
summer - for some dumb reason we’ve been chastised with nothing but shitloads of rain and chilly temperatures since april march feb jan. no-one, by law, should be molested by a climate like this but we are (me very pleased, i’m german, we live on feeling disadvantaged). no idea whom or what to blame for our misery (me not pleased at all, i’m german, i live on blaming others), but at least it can’t be our fault, because you’ll never find any leftovers on our plates (can’t be more pleased, i’m german, me never responsible).
anyway. to accompany our bottle of dry white, christian and me habitually rounded out our precious collection of disgusting german words in order to find the most repelling imposition our mother tongue is capable of. that’s a very challenging assignment and we are very good at it. the lucky wordy sod emerging victorious yesterday was: “schnabulieren” (thx cw!). as a matter of course i looked it up, but no way to find an english word as awful, frumpy, wry and goose-pimply as “schna-bu-lie-ren”.
to give you an idea of its vibe: there simply is none. there’s just a shiver. try to imagine a person intending to come out foodily by using the term nibbling away or to savour whilst forcing down a dry shred of rubber beef filet, drowned in a microwave-heated-ready-made-sauce as a valentine’s dinner. noisily chewing, dressed in dark green corduroy trousers, a sweaty beige polyester shirt, wearing his grandfather’s sludge coloured spectacles, eyes due to delight and a severe farsightedness almost popping out. now you’ve got a slight clue what “schnabulieren” is about: people like this love to use words like that and they do it quite frequently.
we don’t. we are decent, magnificent foodies, modest and flawless. so yesterday we got exactly what we deserve: a delicious vitello tonnato we wolfed down the very second the plate touched down at our table.
there’s just one thing i’m wondering about: shouldn’t a proper vitello be soaked in tonnato (thoroughly, at best over nite) instead of just wearing a fancy hat of mayonnaise (add capers, anchovy, lemon juice, salt and pepper)? furthermore (i just started this sous-vide-thingy as my new obsession): what might happen to my palate if i gave the veal a 24-hour-very-very-slow-cooking treatment?
time to confess again: since i moved to cape town partially i have a bias towards green asparagus. but nevertheless i still love the white, especially when it comes into season - what definitively won’t happen for another nine months. time enough (for a decent pregancy) to harvest as much nice recipes as possible.
so: any ideas what to do with green or white asparagus apart from washing all flavours off by boiling it in water? limb-stem-results are not apreciated! :)