jever fun is so NOT fun!

when i first arrived in Berlin, i made extreme efforts to be social, like going out on sundays to madame claude's a little hangout in kreuzberg. on sundays there would be this open mic in a little back cave hosted by some hipster with a really thick funny german accent. lotz of zzz's. zo, ze next muzician eez...that kind of thing. the other novelty of madame claude's was that it was in a basement, and by that some sort of topsy turvy world where all this furniture was glued to the ceiling, tvs are upside down, so are coat racks, you get the idea. as such, the beer menus were also upside down.

what i like about mc's was their cheap beer selection, with several varieties of this jever brand. when at the bar i would peruse down - nay, up the menu for my cheapest selection: jever fun. looking back i recall a sortof smirk or under the breath laugh from the bartenders when i would order "ein mehr jever fun, bitte." i sometimes thought it was because i didn't tip or something, even though that's the norm - i'm no tourist you anglophone mockers. some nights i would have 4, 5 jever funs, though being a school night i would be sure to pace myself. never had a hangover. though never had an astounding time either. but props to jever fun for not compromising my monday

fast foward 13 months, at the most recent frisbee tournament where they modestly priced 1€ Jever varieties in between games.

do you have jever fun?? i asked eagerly.

no we don't.

why not?

why not? are you stupid? jever fun is non-alcoholic! why would we serve non-alcoholic at a frisbee tournament?

though that question deserves an answer - i quickly sunk into a funk so deep, like finding out someone has been sneaking 5€ bills out of my wallet all these years.

i've been duped! all those nights now making sense, and making an idiot of myself only powered by 0.05% or less alcohol that my grandmother would drink...the clean recollections of the night before, the tireness and barely mild mockable drunkenness.

in fact. jever fun is ANTI-fun!

does this work?

so dignified...

good stuff this weekend

1. The weinhadlung & fahrschule is on my street. it's a driving school/wine distributor. and several pimpin' black mercedes. yes, yes, yes.

2. the chalkboard sign at my favorite ice cream shop now reads:
"flavor of the week: VANILLA"
sorry, no photo.

3. the holocaust memorial always looks different, everytime you go

4. graffiti

Seen in Mauerpark

...on a garbage can.

i'm moving to friedrichshain!

after 2 months of endless apartment -er, they call them "flats" here, like in england, at long last i found a place that was liveable, somewhat close to a u-bahn and doesn't have a brothel on the ground floor*
so, it's in friedrichshain, which i don't know too much about, but it has the secret movie threater, you can eat sri lankan food, see half demolished train depots, buy grungy locally designed clothing, go rock climbing on a historic tower, and get beat up by neo-nazis. and i have a private terrasse! coool!

*yes, at one place i visited, for which they were charging over 900€rent, the real estate agent didn't have the front door key, and no one would buzz him in, so he said, oh, maybe they're home and rang the "24h erotische salon" who of course let us in,. and after we entered we were greeted by a skankily clad..skanky lady who was erotically touching the doorknob. gross.

the berliner teller

every day on my way to work i pass the 'ecke kneipe:' the corner pub with red and gold signs that is on every corner of every street in berlin. you can't see in the window because there's all this junk, and flower and jagermeister signs. mine has an actual hobo drunk little character. red nose, jug with three x's on it.

friendly neighborhood hobo

these place have the same recipe: wood paneled walls, they serve schultheiss, they open at 8 am on tuesdays. because a drunk needs his fix on tuesdays, as much as mondays.
on my way to work i often pass the little chalkboard outside announcing the day's specials. during christmas they had duck and goose. on fridays they serve fish. always something with sauerkraut.
i never had the courage to go in there, it was a sortof last frontier i haven't been confident enough to encounter with limited german. then one my american house guests went it and said it was everything they expected from a german pub, and more. and last week, they started advertising the "berliner teller." a plate of two meatballs, a currywurst, a schnitzel, roasted potatoes, and it that's not enough, a fried egg. for 8 Euro.
i'm living in berlin. this is my corner pub. i must try this platter.
well, all in all it was about what you'd expect, delicious, 2000 calories of brown. took an hour to get served. and the meatballs were actually hamburgers. with mustard.
i signed up for the eisbeinessen the last saturday of the month, a special event you need to reserve 3 weeks in advance. they serve one thing: pork knuckle. i'm so there.

mixed nuts

one of the perks of living in little istanbul are these nut shops. like a deli that specializes in nuts, dried fruits and candy dates and stuff. there's a huge display case of little baskets of colorful nuts and assortments that you order in weighted quantities or whatever. there are picnic tables where people drink tea and eat sunflower seeds out of these giant bowls and spit out the shells onto the floor. the sidewalk and store are littered with shells that crunch under your feet. crrrunch.
now, i like sunflower seeds as much as ther next guy, but honestly, i have neither the patience nor mandibular prowess to eat more than one seed per minute. makes the whole thing very frustrating.
so they also have nut mixes.
a friend brought one of their nut mixes over once and it had all these delicious wasabi peas and cashews and you just wanted to put a handful in your mouth, but you would end up choking on a sunflower seed. why would they mix sunflower seeds into a perfectly edible and tasty mix?
so i am determined to come up with my own mix, the perfect variety and ratio of delicous nuts, without sunflower seeds. or raisins for that matter. this isn't trader joes trail mix. this is just nuts. i want to give planters a run for their money, and put utz pub and party mix to shame. my nut mix will be delectable, perfect, famous. 
so once a week after work i go to the nut place and order a bunch of diffferent nuts. they always try to sell me their selected mix, but no, i don't want any of yuor heimlich maneuver choking nuts, i'm gonna make my own. so ask them to mix all these different quantities of nuts into one bag. it took me several attempts to get them to do it, at first the guy was all sassy and giving me 5 little bags of nuts, and then complaining that i only ordered 100 or 150 grams at a time (does he really want me ordering a kilo of cashews? i will eat it all on the way home and then be sick). like i was wasting his time. one visit i got the guy to mix them up, but then he gave me grief about mixing sweet and savory. it's wrong, he said. seriously guy? you have a phD in nut science and you've never put sweet sesame almonds with salted blister nuts? what's wrong with you?
well, it's not perfected yet, but i have tried many different combinations and ratios and i will tell you that i have a mix so good, they should dedicate one of their little baskets to it. and i am telling you the receipe now, dear reader, so you can go and order it yourself, and get treated like dirt for your unorthodox ways, but i tell you, i never go to a movie without the following:

150 grams of roasted cashews (the dark brown ones)
200 grams of the wasabi peanut things. these weigh more, and they are the most delicious so always err on the side of a lot)
100 grams of sesame covered almonds (you need some sweet)
100g walnuts or hazelnuts, whatever you are in the mood for.
50g of the orange chick pea things. they'll complain that 100g is the minimum, but then you'll tell them that they aren't really good, it's just for color.
100g of the student mix - ok this is a decent mix that doesn't have sunflower, but a lot of other junk. good variety.

shake the bag around to ensure proper mixage. you now have 700g of deliciousness.  

fastest checkout guy EVER

so one of the stressful things about going to the big discount supermarket is that the checkout people are so fast, by the time you've found your debit card to hand over, your groceries are all piled up at the end of the moving carpet thing, and the next person's stuff is already threatening to topple and co-mingle. and these are small, european checkout counters, and you don't have the separator thingie so the whole line, as well as the cashier will be glaring at you, like hungry lions, their eyes saying "get your shit out of here so we can eat."
so you must prepare ahead of time. you get your money out, you arrange your bag in grocery collecting formation, plan your packing strategy far in advance, you put the heavy things in front. eggs last. stuff you can stick in your pockets in the middle. it takes a lot of planning and there is little room for error.
but nothing culd have prepared be for the tattooed guy at the ostbahnhof lidl with glasses so thick you underestimate his dexterity. guy was like a dog digging a hole. his hands were a blur, and there was nary a nano-second between beeps of the machine. he may have even just dragged everything at once over the sensor, like the guy who just won the pot during poker. i must have looked away for a tiny moment, pondering the impulse buy offerings and when i look over, he's leaning back, hands behind his head all proud. and all my stuff, piled up, mixed up senslessly, all that delicate forethought for nothing. as i got the glare from him and every homeless drunk in line behind with their plastic 6 pack of beer that they are paying for with the bottle refunds from yesterday night's binge. 
checkout: fail.

i have a new band! look!

http://anniehow.tumblr.com/post/3085890985/that-s-my-one-of-a-kind-girl-playing-the-cello

the difference between the United Kingdom, Great Britain and England Explained.

from http://blog.cgpgrey.com/

bargain basement beers

so the karstadt is your german department store, a fancy-ish Macy's if you will, that has your household goods, clothing, whatever. in german class, you learn the term "Kaufhof" the building where you buy things. i usually regard the karstaft and its sister stores with the same bland indifference i give a bloomingdales: you only go there if you really have to.
but i recently discovered a few things that quickly changed my mind! first, every kaufhof has a ridiculous supermarket inside. like, dean and deluca on cocaine meets whole foods in a saks fifth avenue. it's insane. a deli counter that would make my brother blush, sparkling organic produce, a hot sausage grill with bratwurst for 2Euro, kilometers of yogurt aisles, an international aisle that even has an "american" section with doritos and peanut butter. pretty much anything you could ever want or imagine. it's a guilty pleasure those secret supermarkets.
but the karstadt at hermannplatz in neukolln has another hidden gem: a pub. in the bargain basement, amidst bins of extra large brassieres adn underwear, leftover shirts from last season, a quite wonderful classic german style kneipe, a circular counter thingie in the middle of the store with a clientele strictly over 65, a few of whom are usually asleep over their drinks.
the bartender is a chipper old lady who blasts boney M mega mixes and the like to drown out the department store muzak, and eagerly invites you to friday happy hour! starts at 12 noon! only 1.5Euro beer!  i'm surprised there aren't more bored husbands, sick of waiting/watching their wives shop and tryon outfits. there are a few casino machines in one corner, a few tables where last time, octogenarians were eagerly swigging screw top mini bottles of champagne, there's a wheelchair accessible corner counter, free pretzels in plastic cups, what else could you ask for?

more VENN

http://thisisnthappiness.com/post/2582957671/how-do-you-like-your-graphic-design

another day for Venn

Schornsteinfeger wuz here

I have gotten two bright red notices on my apartment door about the Schornsteinfeger. the Schornsteinfeger has come by twice now, and is increasingly urgent about visiting my apartment. what the f is a Schornsteinfeger? i ask my german manpanion who can only come up with cryptic clues like, "he is the man in black" or "he comes down the tube" and all i could think was that a Schornsteinfeger is a santa claus in black? well  according to google übersetzer, that is a chimney sweep. i do not have a chimney, therefore i do not need a chimney sweep, correct? wrong.
manpanion says "he comes to check the poison in your radiator, he is here to save your life!" poison? i gather this is some sort of carbon monoxide test or something? (why would they only do that once a year?)
so, fine, i stay home from work to wait for the Schornsteinfeger, because apparently, the 4th time he comes you must pay. this is a free service, this Schornsteinfeger.
well, just like an american cable guy, he did not come within his alloted 3 hour time slot. he didn't even come 2 hours after his alloted 3 hour time slot. i knew that as soon as i would leave my house (perhaps make it to work before the end of the day?) he would show up. lo and behold, at 2:30 pm, there is a long-haired man at my door.
he wipes the snow off his shoes like crazy. uses both doormats. he is about to untie his boots when i say, it's kein problem. he is so polite, this Schornsteinfeger. i really should have offered him coffee, then again, i didn't know this whole procedure was going to take hours. he goes up to my bathroom, where the gas heater thing is, and i'm certain he must have sat on the toilet to make a caca or something, because seriously, he was up there a while. i'm putzing around, with my coat on, waiting for him to leave any minute. 
finally he comes downstairs with the paperwork. always paperwork. of course i must sign somewhere. i must agree with his assessment that only 4.7 parts per million poison are emitted from my bathroom gas heater! no need to worry! as it is under 1000 ppm. only then, do you worry. he has saved my life! my gasburner is in excellent shape! we are holding hands and jumping! no poison!
the Schornsteinfeger, now showing off that he speaks near perfect english AND french tells me that i will leave to see another year - that is, until his next visit in 2011 when he will return once again in order to reassure me of survival.
i thank the Schornsteinfeger, he asks for my number.. my number? to call you next year! of course! so you don't have to wait around! so polite. and then gives me a momento, a good luck charm if you will. why it is a little ramoneur, no larger than 4 cm, a man in black, with his rope and ladder.
Schornsteinfeger!  

the secret movie theater

i could tell you where the secret movie theater is, but then it wouldn't be secret anymore would it? and they probably wouldn't let me in next time. so no, you don't get to know where the secret movie theater is.

my manpanion invited me on a secret evening, he wouldn't tell me where. it's a secret. we were wandering lost, in the falling snow, when he finally said "here it is!" and knocked on a window of some dimly lit apartment that appeared to have a bar in it. they open the window and you climb onto a box and then into their little living room. lots of dim red lighting, strange people and weird furniture (a chair made out of a shopping cart) and all very quiet, i felt like i walked through the window of a stanley kubrick film. we paid 8 euro total for 2 tickets and 2 large beers for the evening's showing of Inception with Leo DiCaprio.
we enter throguh a curtain to the back room and there is actually some sort of stadium seating, with random movie theater chairs/church pews and couches on various levels. i wanted the comfy couch, but it appeared to be fully reserved by the small shaggy grey dog who snarled when i approached. we grabbed our seats instead in one of the 4 rows uneven, were handed an ashtray and some peanuts and pulled out some packages of haribo candies frm ourbag. the old guy next to us was smoking some rather pungent weed.
the theater set up is a mess of electronics in one corner, and a projector on the ceiling pointing at a sheet. my aunt's theater room in her new bethesda townhouse is far more fancy than this. (hint to babs: start your own speakeasy movie theater!)
there was a lot of commotion between the "employees" a ragtag bunch of longhaired druggies with black hooded sweatshirts with dragons on them. there was a new dvd playe r, but someone had misplaced the remote. is it under your seat? at the bar? in between hte cushions of the couch - hey dog, move. so we were then asked to vote: we either watch the movie dubbed in german, or wait 5 minutes and use the old dvd player, which doesn't work so well. the other french moviegoers adn myself voted for takin the risk with the old dvd player. and thank goodness, because i am not sure i would have understood the whole level 3 dream within a dream within a dream concept in german.
so i viewed the whole movie through a mist of smoke, people knocking over beer bottles and the growling dog, but i must say, it might be the best movie theater ever. and they show old star trek episodes every monday. if you want to go, just let me know, i might be able to get you in...

Münchener weißwurst: love

i don't really know what it is Münchener weißwurst could have intestines and ligaments, i don't care, because it's delicious. and with sweet, sweet mustard, it can be my breakfast lunch or dinner. you're supposed to eat it with your hands, suck out the meat and leave the skin in a gooey mess on your plate.

they saying is a weißwurst never hears the stroke of 12 noon - as they are made in the morning and eaten only a few hours later. well, in modern times you can buy the pre-cooked variety full of preservatives and chemicals so they'll even last the 7 hours train ride back to berlin. 

file under Venn

time for christmas markets!

all november, people were announcing the approaching christmas markets coming like it was the messiah..."in december, we will be drinking glühwein, enjoying winter..." and they were so right!
in every city, village, small town, even train station these little cheesy log cabin stands sprout up all over germany, selling reindeer skins, olivewood spoons, bratwurst, potatoes, and of course, glühwein. though if you're a little sadistic, and really want a headache the next day you order the Feuerzangenbowle, which is glühwein lit on fire with a rum sugar cube like it's absynthe or something.
 

anyway, the typical thing is after work to go get plowed on some hot beverages and eat fries and sausages and crepes and such with your friends or coworkers. the places close down at 9pm so you best get there early, stake a spot next to a heat lamp if you can. people just hang around in these little makeshift bars with their parkas and fur hats and moonboots, it's wonderful. sometimes there is live music, lots of dogs. if you are in munich, of course, it's the mega huge christmasmarket that is more like decemberfest. 

dinner of champions - 2 weisswurst and sweet, sweet, mustard

each glühwein hut has their own mug. sometimes they are shaped like little boots, or have little winter scenes on them. you pay a deposit up front on the mug, and you can either return it, or buy it. germans are brilliant. i have an excellent little mug collection now. 

but no christmas market is complete without the nativity scene! 

thumbs up for baby jesus

new file format: save a tree. save as WWF!

Das WWF-Format ist ein PDF, das man nicht ausdrucken kann. So einfach können unnötige Ausdrucke von Dokumenten vermieden, die Umwelt entlastet und Bäume gerettet werden. Mit Ihrer Hilfe. Bestimmen Sie selbst, was nicht ausgedruckt werden soll, und speichern Sie es im WWF-Format.
SAVE AS WWF, SAVE A TREE
 
The WWF format is a PDF that cannot be printed out. It’s a simple way to avoid unnecessary printing. So here’s your chance to save trees and help the environment. Decide for yourself which documents don’t need printing out – then simply save them as WWF.

i heart venn diagrams

only in berlin

this is berlin kunst edition

every time you come across a table of edible poo, it is generally accompanied by the universal sigh, "only in berlin."

i get it, i eat artist shit

berlin and its affordable lifestyle supports an entire sub population of under-appreciated artists and creative types, we do all love that. we just wish we could filter out the crap sometimes. or, there are some nights when it just doesn't matter.

take nacht und nebel, or night and fog, a wonderful evening of anything goes. street after street, every gallery or whatever space in neukoln open its doors to wonderful craziness. you purchase a large 1liter beer and take it with you as you enter place after place thinking, the next one can't be this weird, let's stay here for a while. butthe next one surpasses the one before that, it never ends.

exhibit a. boomerangs..and stuff.

exhibit b. the bicycle powered dj hip hop show. this place had a tv showing something, a documetary of who cares because here come the guys in spandex! backed by a plastic sheet showing vintage cycling clips, dj cycle 1 and 2 flank mc ridiculous. 

tour de DJ

  

so then, when you come across a glowing mannequin on fire, it's not so weird anymore..

how to embarass yourself in front of co-workers

on a friday ngiht after work, an NGO nearby had an office-warming. i'm thinking free drinks and food why not. so we go there and it's this 1984 cement GDR/DDR marvel. small offices with small windows, lime green walls and padded doors (so the SS don't hear what you're up to), foward-thinking unisex bathrooms and cramped hallway corridors.

urinals are out of order

 in the small conference room there were munchies erdnuss flips (look like cheese puffs, only peanut flavor -heaven) and socially conscious beer and organic white wine. there were some rather long speeches, during which my colleagues would periodically poke me and ask if i understand. this happens a lot. and so as usual, i nod, sure, as in yes, i udnerstand most of it, but honestly it's just really boring so i eventually zone out and stop listening and wonder what bratislava is like or what i will eat later. this is also true for most meetings and discussions, sorry.

so after the terribly long and boring speeches, and one rather funny intern showed pictures of the old parking spaces, my wonderful colleagues and i sigh at the prospect of friday night networking. we examine our empty wine glasses, promptly fill them up and wander out to the stairwell where a DJ has recently set up. i don't know who said it, but i heard it "we might as well just dance."

my wine glass was magically refilled and there you go, 730pm dance party. i may have done something that qualifies as "grinding." our organization was the sole one represented on this dance floor, though i did try desperately to get the cute intern to join us, he just seemed to think we were aliens.
 there were glares are questionable stares and "are they really dancing like that" but you know what, we just proved who is more fun, and who will probably not get invited back to the christmas party.  

DE. Do Easy

i have just enrolled in the school of DE. the discipline of do easy. 
you should too.  
"how fast can you do it and get it done?"

new building mural on my street

a few weeks ago some guys in grey hoodies showed up every morning at 7 am (early risers!) to repaint the building next door. they worked confidently on this large image with nothing but notes to follow. i never heard them mutter a single word, they were like graffiti ninjas as the little turkish kids who live in the apartments would open their windows or come out on the street and ask what are you doing? what color is that? why are you wearing a mask? what is that for?

 what are you going to do there?

wurst cake - kitsch n classics edition

a special kitsch n classics edition for you.
my adobrable neighbor celebrated his birthday with a kuchen und wurst party - i presume the typical 4pm cake and coffee that turns into a bbq or something. i though i would kick it up a notch and just end th e party early with an amazing..shazam! wurstcake.
i consulted the venerable chef raspberry for ideas. corn bread basics, with some meats.
i went to the knockoff ikea to find a good cake pan. the one i picked was loaf sized, non-stick, sturdy, and had a picture of a holiday fruitcake and colorful jellies and nuts and powdered sugar and snowflakes. oh cake pan you could not be more wrong today. 
instructions from the chef:
125g cornmeal
150g AP Flour
40g sugar
20g honey
9g baking powder
2g baking soda
7g salt
100g whole egg
200g sour cream
100g milk
50g butter
Mix dry together and add all wet ingredients. Add in the chopped wurst and bake in a greased pan at whatever 350F is for 30-40 minutes. Put in some chopped rosemary and maybe some chopped cooked onion.
so i bought some organic mittelwurst (no idea what that is, took me an hour to pick it from all of its wurst cousins), cooked 'em up with onions, shallots. i didn't have a scale so there was a lot guesswork.
in the end, i had a concotion that rather tasted like cornbread. the air of my apartment, entirely infused with the smokey bacon like smell of the wurst. fresh rosemary and voila.

only issue was the whole what is baking powder what is baking soda, why are they different and why do you need both. i only had baeckpulver, whatever that is, and i just dumped a bunch in.

mixin' wurst

overall, tasty as hell. on a nice cakedish among the sweeter variety cakes.

best wurstcake

the kids at the party all grabbed some against their mother's wishes "honey, that cake has WURST in it, don't you want the chocolate cheesecake?"
nein! wurstkuchen!
later on i beat that little rat at pickup sticks.
the second version had cheese, smaller pieces of wurst. sweet, savory, delicious.
best of the wurst:
need more eggs, a bit floury, needs more gooey.
and need to take it higher - fluffier might be better. it's dense, tasty, hefty, more like the fruitcake on that picture now that i think of it.

the turkish everything-you-don't-need-store

there's this store near my house.
it's one of those random metal/plastic item things that you think is the small mom-and-pop equivelent of a Target in 1/900th of the size that sells everything you need - until you go there, repeatedly, and find out it in fact stores entirely useless items, none of which are ever even remotely what you are looking for.
a short list of normal items that i have looked for in said store but they never have:
-a mixer, blender, or anything that might facilitate the making of soup or hummus (i live in a turkish/lebanese/algerian neighborhood where NO ONE can make hummmus. no, it's not just a clump of tahini and chick peas, people, you actually need lemon, salt, garlic, maybe olive oil? i know you guys have olive oil.)
-a strainer, like for spaghetti
-a toaster
-deck of cards (we were in the bar next door and really wanted to play a game of heartssss)
-a hair dryer
-an iron
-thing to heat up milk on the stove
-a non-plastic basket (i thought turks were into that stuff)
-champagne flutes (prosecco is mad cheap here)
-all purpose cleaner, like, for the bathroom
-a square cake pan, like for making banana bread or, the wurst-cake i plan on making next weekend for the cake and wurst party (thus: wurstcake.) 

and i go here, because, i haven't found anything that resembles a target or store that sells useful items, that is not ridiculously expensive or within biking distance. and because everything is closed at 7pm, and on sundays, your window for searching for said establishments is very limited. and because you presume, within all the crap that's in the windows and exploding onto the sidewalk there must be what you are looking for. it's not just me, my dad and mom both fell for the place too. we are suckers.

the store routine goes a little something like this:
i walk in, and the really old turkish lady with the head scarf behind the counter smiles, but other than that makes no facial reaction to what i am saying. she may be deaf. i wander the 2 aisles, and then the guy comes out, he's clearly the awkward 40 year old son who still lives with his mom.
he pushes mom over to help in my quest, and takes her place as master/cashier/translator.
i then explain in broken german, or more often hand motions and charades "this is me, with wet hair, i am cold and miserable! brrrr!"  that sort of thing.  
the guy then explains - nay, screams to his mom what i'm looking for. which i imagine is the turkish equivelent of (brooklyn accent) "Ma!! she wants a hair dry-ah!!" the old lady, then digs through the piles of stuff and pulls out the furthest thing from what you want.
that is a spatula. i wanted a strainer?
no, that is paint. i wanted cleaner? you see, this is me, cleaning, my apartment so dirty!
that is a scooby doo blanket. i asked for a cake pan? because i want to put wurst, mmm wurst, in a cake - oh, forget it.
she then shows me every single oven-friendly dish that you would never fathom cooking a cake in. are these for baklava?
or, i have no idea what that is, but i was looking for a deck of cards.

now, i do realize there are ample opportunities for miscommunication in this game of telephone, but they really just do not have anything i need.

so, in case you were wondering, things they do have:
-scooby doo blankets, and casper the ghost blankets, and strawberry shortcake blankets. if you are a turk in berlin, i imagine you are often cold.
-clothes drying racks. lots of them. these people they have very clean, wrinkled clothes (they do not have irons! only rolling pins).
-rolling luggage. this is the hotbeds of cheap chinese luggage. Ramsonite brand, just fell off the truck. not that you ever see anyone rolling through the streets with luggage or anything.
-thermal food bags. it is october, which means it will no longer get above freezing, no need to go to extra measures to keep my food cold thanks, i think my picnics will now be inside. probably until june.
-teapots! millions of teapots! metal, glass, porcelaine, teapots of every shape size, brand and color!

well, i already have a teapot. so i can only hope for the day when i actually find a use for something in your store. elveda, gule gule!

japanese or bavarian. how about both?

in munich, i was with johannes who wanted asian food, martin who wanted bavarian, so we went to noyima. basically, a japanese yakitori grill with polka music and steins of local beer. i asked the punky asian waitress for an asahi

"munchner hell"


i said asahi


"munchner hell"


so i had a dunkel hefeweissen.


the owner was sitting outside, looking like he just walked off the set of sound of music, smoking a cigar with his leather austrian cap and paying the accordion players to serenade us.
i had a delicious octopus seaweed salad with tons of ginger, some perfect rolls, and grilled kangaroo, ostrich, butterfish (?) and plums wrapped in bacon.


is this really japanese? who cares. tasty.

peter fox is moving out

a few weeks after i moved in i had a dinner party with some germans friends, and one of my guests see a neighbor outside putting his trash in the bin and screams out, "holy f-ing sheizer, that's peter fox!"
oh yeah, neighbor guy, is he famous or something?
this guy is indeed my neighbor.

i live in the same building as the german p.diddy
.

whenever i go to someone's house, i always hear his songs emanating from a laptop or stereo. i also realized this week that no one introduces me as their friend, or their colleague, or a nice person they just got to know, it's always, hey, this is aurelgrooves - she lives in the same building as peter fox. and then i'm instant center of attention "what's he like?" "does he has a girlfriend?"
yes, and a kid actually, and then all the girls pout. which is probably why he is moving out this weekend.  
as confirmed by the yentas at the spaetkauf, peter fox is indeed moving out.
so there it is, in one day, i'm back to just being your friend or colleague.... 
that day i was in the courtyard putting my garbage into its apprpriate trashcan when, hey, ho, what have we here? inside the plastics and recyclable packaging yellow dumpster are 2, rather clean, seemingly barely used, not so bad smelling ikea Dilling under bed storage boxes. with their lids. i've so been looking for one of these!

peter fox's box

i'm well within view of every neighbor i have...but i did it. i held the lid of the dumpster open, pulled one out. inspected it, gave it a sniff. good to go.
i may be your friend, i may be your colleague, i may be a dumpster diver, but i have peter fox's Ikea Dilling under bed storage unit.

little otik

Little Otik


(interview with little otik -they smile more in person).

so the great thing about hanging out with colleagues, is that unlike every other berliner i know, they actually have jobs, and so they don't mind dropping (gasp!) 30€ on a dinner once in a while.
so a colleague and i, we went to little otik. on a friday. tiny restaurant in a fashionable part of east Kreuzberg. no seats available at the 2 big picnic tables, 2 2/4 tops or the 2 top in the window. no parties of more than 6 people allowed. a big long beautiful recycled wooden bar that always seems to have room if you like sitting at a bar. i like sitting at a bar.
it's run by 2 american dudes from michigan and new york, who don't speak much german. they told me what little otik stands for, but i forgot. i think it's related to the creepy movie of the same title where they carve a piece of wood into a baby and pretend it's a baby or something. (will watch this asap).

yes, creepy

anyway, the cook guy used to work at Diner in Williamsburg. he came to visit his friend in berlin and they started a supper club. and then they, like anyone else who realizes how easy it is to open something in berlin were like duh, we should open a restaurant in berlin.
they found a portuguese cafe at a nice address that was closing down and haggled with the owner to rent it cheap (well, rent is already stupid cheap in berlin) - cheap and with everything in it. most of the kitchen was already there. they sold all the chairs, tables, bar stuff and a collection of mini fridges, then gutted and painted the dining room to convert it to an extremely simple, kinda echoey space with not much on the walls besides a few mirrors. (a stark contrast to the baubble you might find adorning every vertical surface of a buca di beppo's).
they are closed sunday, monday, (ah, european style) and on tuesday they go to the farmer's market down the street and buy all the organic, local items from farmers. stuff like wild boar bacon and heirloom tomatoes, duck. then they plan the menu, and open wednesday-saturday. packed every night, call weeks ahead for a reservation. pretty cheap eats, a little pricey on the wines. we bought an entire bottle instead - now that's good economics!

but my friend told them you can't get away with charging minimum 6€ for a glass of wine, berliners usually don't go for that. but it looks like they can and berliners are going for it. jerks. they better not ruin the median 2.50 € huge wine glasses i'm getting used to...we recommended a wine shop they should talk to (the same one we had just previously turned into a bistro by chatting, tasting wine, and forgetting it's just a store, must pay and leave now).
so we had the last of heirloom tomatoes (a freeze this weekend), perfect, simple, coarse salt. ate the super delish no salt needed chicken n dumplings, and an amazing turnip soup with smoked wild boar bacon that was just awesome. fried zuccini blossoms or something like that. lemony. crunchy. they were very stingy on the bread (and yeah, we recommended a better bakery and they should probably switch from baguette to ciabatta or something. germans know their bread, you can serve stale baguette. or get a toaster!!).
they make coffee themselves on the bar in these plastic filter things from taiwan and a plug in water boiler, and cross their fingers in the hope that no one ever orders more than 4 at a time. (drank it without milk and i was up ALL night. good stuff, though i would recommend a french press. afterall, i am franzosich!).
all the plates, mugs are eitehr from ikea or the german target. cash only. 4 employees total (someone in the kitchen and a german girl for front of the house). every order written on notebook paper, no computers.
so that's pretty much your typical, ok let's open a restaurant and do this right and low key and not bother with liquor licenses kinda place.
though in the back of my mind i was thinking about wrestling the property away from the owners (perhaps a duel or betting it in poker, or sending in my own litte otik to scare them away?) and installing my brother as chef, but then, i think my brother can do even better...

discovering berlin: potsdam

i had some friends in town for more than a week, and it was soon time to pull out all the stops - like visiting potsdam. i had never been, have only heard good things so, let's go to potsdam.
the 50 minute S-bahn ride was made more attractive by our bag full of sternburg export, the cheapest strongest beer from the spaetkauf and a bag full of gummies that were gifted directly from spaetkauf through my living room window at 4 am the previous night.
we took 2 bikes and a skateboard and landed at potsdam Hbf.
we didn't have a map, or any idea where to go, we figured we would just find it when we got there.

the tourist information people wanted 2 Euro for a map drawing i could have made without looking. . a nice guy from the bus tour company gave us one, which we soon found out was a bit useless as it had no constant scale, so was wickedly deceptive about distances.
nevertheless, we headed into the old potsdam, my friend being pulled on his axe by two lovely ladies on bikes. we came upon a neighborhood with these small brick buildings and cobbled stones, a perfect foreground to a wonderful fall day. even some disc golf holes in the center park.

looks like alexandria

we found no less than 4 different wurst stands at various markets and tasted each one, beginning our day of 1000 weiners.  

innovative transpo

i ended up having a flat tire, but found enough bike shops with free outside pumps to keep me inflated. go potsdam. we meandered around, nibbling at weiners and bag of gummies and came upon the famous parc sanssouci.
we got a lot of dirty looks from people towards the skateboard, but found someone kind enough to take our picture.

how do you get an outofofocus picture with a point and shoot?

we played frisbee in a field, drank a few sternburgs, and spent one of the nicest days left in 2010.
we later found out that the previous activities broke no less than 4 rules but those are just rules that are meant to be broken.
we were hungry for more weiners and came upon a nice little bavarian place near the charlottenburg hof train station. since big beers and sausage are what everyone outside germany thinks is germany, it was a must do. trains for east berlin only came ever 40 minutes to we waited in the biergarten with some liters of oktoberfest paulaner and delicious weisswurst and pretzels.

finally, we're in germany.

after drinking so much beer we logically had to visit the bathroom which is when we discovered the hidden gem in the back room - a bowling alley. 2 lanes of duckpin, and one full normal lane. totally empty.
the walls were a faded hue of retro yellowish green, the equipment strangely antique. our waiter came in and offered us a chance to play a game and fired up the machines. ok...we didn't have the right kind of shoes, so he pulled some out from under the bar, clearly from the lost and found or a second hand shop. i had some turquoise boat shoes, while my friends sported late 70s velcro gold sneakers.
we get a little introduction to the system, built in 1969. older than us. you can't rename the players (aw shucks, one of our favorite things about bowling!), so on the modern addition screen, you are destined to be boring speiler 1,2 oder 3. there are blinking lights and buttons like in a spaceship on the manifold, but do not touch them!! 

the jukebox in the corner has those small record EPs, and a wide coin slot for "DM." Deutschmarks? uhhhhh. the waiter opens the machine, pulls coins out of one slot and feeds us some credit. free tunes!
the artists, all handwritten include, and i'm not making this up - one column with D. Hasselhof (another jaded german stereotype turns out to be true?), beatles, abba, and the rest of the 1,000 or so songs are not related to the labels and are simply bavarian polka. 

have we entered a vortex to another decade?
we find ourselves incapable of hitting any pins, as every ball, no matter where you stand and where you throw it, end up in the left gutter. is it me or is this whole place just, perhaps, leaning? 
finally, sarah gets a strike and we order up a round of jaegermeister shots to celebrate.

it turns out, the pin apparatus is not at all like what we're used to - the pins are on strings and get lifted up like little marionnettes and dance, and then get put down, often at uneven distances from eachother.
the game gets weirder and weirder when one of the balls on its return journey doesn't make it up the little track and gets stuck halfway down the lane, and then the other ball hits it, and soon all our balls get stuck there, and so after every roll we have to walk down the lane to go pick them up.
the jukebox is playing david hasselhof's crazy for you, which is the music of YMCA, but the lyrics aof the chorus re changed to craaaazy for you, craaaazy for me.    
we find some techno and think this cannot get any stranger, and race to meet our train. 
we miss it, and then go back to the bar and the waiter seems less than thrilled to see us. at this point we've had way too many large beers so he urges us to order the small cuter ones. we are still way too loud and annoying for the 2 other passed out drunks next to us.
finally, it's train time again and the waiter, despite his air of indifference sends us off with 3 tiny bottles of what are like jaegermeister but it must be the vegetarian version- lots o spice. i think they are the german hangover cure things...
we take the regional train home and eat more gummies, the ones that are fake teeth and cannot believe how incredibly cool potsdam is. and because my friend left my spare keys on the bar, we actually have to go back.