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Category: Gudrun Westing

“It seems to me that our three basic needs, for food and security and love, are so mixed and mingled and entwined that we cannot straightly think of one without the others. So it happens that when I write of hunger, I am really writing about love and the hunger for it, and warmth and the love of it and the hunger for it… and then the warmth and richness and fine reality of hunger satisfied… and it is all one.” ― M.F.K. Fisher, The Art of Eating

Grace Amid Discord and Despair: We Talk Ramey, Cline, ‘Sideways’, Riesling, Zinfandel, Syrah, and More

August 19, 2018 / / 6 Comments

Fires out west, Twitterreah in D.C., and collapsing infrastructure in Genoa: The woes continue unabated (it’s always been that way, of course), and as summer progresses toward the autumnal equinox, despair and dismay seem the manners of the day. What to do?

Well, once you’ve checked on your friends and acquaintances in wine country, those dealing with the deadly fires, once you’ve donated to relief efforts there, after you’ve made sure your friend in Genoa is OK, after you’ve read the latest piece from Maggie Haberman about the goings-on in the White House (has there ever been a leakier bunch at 1600 Pennsylvania?), it’s time to cook and drink and eat and give thanks for the solace that can be had in those activities.

A few weeks ago, I was at State of Grace in Houston, drinking Rosé and enjoying some oysters. Matt Crawford, the restaurant’s general manager and beverage director, stopped by and poured us a Mezcal, and we talked briefly. Matt’s a great guy, and he just happens to be the subject of my latest Wine Talk. Give it a read, and next time you decide on oysters, pair them with Mezcal.

Drink Mezcal with your oysters. (Brockhaus photo)

Briny heaven (Brockhaus photo)

Continuing with wine, we move to Germany (my favorite wine country), and a great cause. (Drink Riesling every day!) But first, let’s hear from Mark Twain on Deutschland:

My philological studies have satisfied me that a gifted person ought to learn English (barring spelling and pronouncing) in thirty hours, French in thirty days, and German in thirty years. It seems manifest, then, that the latter tongue ought to be trimmed down and repaired. If it is to remain as it is, it ought to be gently and reverently set aside among the dead languages, for only the dead have time to learn it.
– “That Awful German Language,” Appendix D of A Tramp Abroad

Whenever the literary German dives into a sentence, that is the last you are going to see of him till he emerges on the other side of his Atlantic with his verb in his mouth.
– A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court

…mastery of the art and spirit of the Germanic language enables a man to travel all day in one sentence without changing cars.
– Christian Science

A dream…I was trying to explain to St. Peter, and was doing it in the German tongue, because I didn’t want to be too explicit.
– Mark Twain’s Speeches, 1923

The Germans are exceedingly fond of Rhine wines; they are put up in tall, slender bottles, and are considered a pleasant beverage. One tells them from vinegar by the label.
– A Tramp Abroad

Twain’s sarcasm and humor set aside, if you read this today (Sunday, the 19th of August, 2018) before 4 o’clock in the afternoon or so, and if you are in Houston, Texas, hightail it to Camerata and drink some fine German wines and contribute to a good cause. (Click here for more details.)

All of this talk about German wines takes me back to a fine summer day a few years ago; my friend Holger and I took a journey that included a stop at Schloss Vollrads. We drank and ate well.

A fine setting for Riesling.

I enjoy a Riesling at Schloss Vollrads.

Drinking Rielsing with Holger on the Rhine near Bingen.

Finally, there’s Zinfandel and Syrah, and Cline and Ramey. Two bottles we opened recently, two vintages that I recommend highly and that will pair with everything from hamburgers to beef stew and grilled ribeye or lamb. David Ramey and Nancy and Fred Cline are the names behind these two bottles, and you’ll want to add both wines to your inventory.

Zinfandel from old vines is in this bottle.

A German Repast

February 27, 2014 / / 3 Comments
All one needs for sensual nourishment.

All one needs for sensual nourishment.

In a small town — perhaps it is technically a village — in Germany, near Kaiserslautern, lives a family to whom I am very close. I have known them since the 1980s, and think of them often. They have told me to consider their home my home in Germany, and I do. I wish I could see them more often.

Whenever I am with them I am reminded yet again how rich and diverse Europe’s food offerings are. Gudrun always sets a fine table, and the dinner pictured above was no exception. You sit in the dining room, snow falling outside, and the cheeses and meats and wines – and conversation – make the evening something you want never to end.

A Hike in Die Pfalz, Ending With Fine Bowls of Soup

February 26, 2014 / / 0 Comments
A vista that is etched in my mind.

A vista that is etched in my mind.

Quite often, memories of dishes or tastes from the past fly into my head, and I, with pleasure, recall the beautiful culinary experience that is the source of the memory. These moments of gustatory recollection are usually sparked by thoughts of friends, or places in which I spent time, or streets I walked down on my way to a restaurant.

Yesterday die Pfalz flew into my brain, most specifically a hike in the Vorderpfalz with my friend Holger in the summer of 2012. We had driven from Mannheim, and were on our way to Kaiserslautern, where Holger lives with his wife and sons. We stopped for a hike, because the Vorderpfalz is a beautiful area, and it was a beautiful day: sun out, warm, a relaxed Sunday.

And that culinary memory, that taste? This time it was bowls of soup, which we ate outside on picnic tables on top of the ridge up which we had hiked. It was made in a small kitchen in a wooden cabin, a restaurant of sorts on the ridge, and contained Polish sausage and delicious, smoky broth and potatoes, among other ingredients. Around us, hikers drank beer and wine, and Holger and I looked out over the rolling green.

Bowls of soup after a hike, a good thing to remember. Bowls of soup after a hike, a good memory.

A horse tale (and Max produces some fine pasta)

January 25, 2013 / / 1 Comment

I enjoy teaching others to cook, and showing them that learning a few things culinary is well worth the time it takes to do so.

I’ve been cooking a lot in Gudrun’s kitchen this month, and it’s been fun showing Max the ropes, especially making pasta.

Last week we went to the Saturday market and I bought a nice foal steak and some horse sausage, and they became a wonderful ragù. It was cooked low and slow, for seven or eight hours. I started it on Saturday evening, and on Sunday Max and I got together and made pasta. I put him in charge, and he did a fine job … it was his second batch, and I do believe he could produce some good pasta in any kitchen.

We made vanilla panna cotta for dessert, Holger opened a Syrah, and Sunday evening in Kaiserslautern was delicious.

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More than one home …

January 17, 2013 / / 10 Comments

I’m in Kaiserslautern, in one of my homes away from home. I lived in this city – which is nestled in the Rheinland-Pfalz, not so far from the French border – during my high school days, and the place and the people here have had a profound influence on my life. It was where I first learned to appreciate beer and wine; it’s where I continued my Fussball education and romance, playing for my Department of Defense high school and a German club.

Champions of Europe, the Red Raiders of KAHS

Champions of Europe, the Red Raiders of KAHS (Photo courtesy of Frank Williamson)

It’s also where I began to expand my culinary horizons beyond the foods of the U.S., learning about a new cuisine and spending time in German kitchens. I tasted my first Saumagen here, and my first Frikadelle, having wandered past a cart selling them on the way up to the Betzenberg.

The hill of dreams

The hill of dreams

I had read “The Great Gatsby” before we moved to Germany, but it was in Kaiserslautern that I became a serious reader, through Fitzgerald and wine. My parents and sisters were traveling in the U.S., and I was home alone, so I bought a few bottles of wine and began reading the man from St. Paul, from his first words to his final, unfinished, novel. I am sure there was a Riesling or two in the mix, and I clearly recall an Italian red. (To this day, whenever I taste a great dry Riesling, especially one from the Pfalz, I think of this line of Fitzgerald’s: “I’ve been drunk for about a week now, and I thought it might sober me up to sit in a library.”)

Books and wine

Books and wine

While in Kaiserslautern, I am a guest in the home of a friend I first met in 1980, Holger Westing. He and his wife, Gudrun, have two sons, Tim and Max, and I am enjoying catching up with all of them. (Holger was my teammate at TSG Kaiserslautern, my German club. He was a very good footballer, and went on to play for 1. FC Kaiserslautern’s amateur squad.) We’ve had a light snowfall, the January days and nights are cold and comforting, and the soup is on.

A great friend, for decades thus far: Holger Westing

A great friend, for decades thus far: Holger Westing

Gudrun Westing, a friend for the ages

Gudrun Westing, a friend for the ages

Of course, it always comes back to the food, wherever I find myself. Food and wine. I was in Germany last year as well, and tasted (and drank) a lot of Rieslings. Holger loves wine, and he and I spent a couple of days driving through the Pfalz and Baden, stopping at as many wineries as possible. Angela and I spent some time in the region as well in the autumn of last year, and I was happy to be able introduce her to the wines and cuisine of the area.

In the Pfalz: My favorite dining companion

In the Pfalz: My favorite dining companion

We go to the market on Saturdays, for horse sausage and Bollburgers and vegetables and Frikadellen. We enjoy the slow days, the unblemished carpet of snow, the comforting beginning of a new year. It is a fine thing to cook in a kitchen in the home of a friend, a friend of more than 30 years, in a part of the world that has been bred in my bones and continues to teach me so much.

Horse, and good it is

Horse, and good it is

Snow on the market vegetables

Snow on the market vegetables

A fine breakfast: the Bollburger

A fine breakfast: the Bollburger

Looking back, I think it was highly appropriate that my father was transferred to Germany, and to the Rheinland-Pfalz … great wines, great Fussball (I must state that my team, 1. FC Kaiserslautern, was much better back in those days), beautiful land and soil, and oh so close to Paris and Bavaria. And, most dear to me, some of the best people I have ever met. I’ll be back here, again and again.

Welcome home, wherever you find yourself.

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