Italian Plum Jam

I seem to always have plums on my mind this time of year.  Last year I made a traditional German confection with them, Zwetschgenkuchen.  The year before I started off my blogging adventure in my new home with a simple jam made from the tiniest of plums, mirabelles.  It's so easy to fall into a plum state of mind with the markets literally crowded with crates of the purple, red and golden beauties.

Spring Kohlrabi Salad

So I don't really remember why we got it going, but somehow an old college roommate and I have started a little farmer's market Facebook game.  It's called "Can you guess the vegetable?".  The whole thing cracks me up because before I met this roommate, she was never into cooking.  A few lessons in our tiny apartment kitchen started what I like to think of as a deep appreciation for getting her bake on, and I'm happy to take all of the credit!

Our game goes a little something like this-

1. I visit the weekly market here in town.  I generally get inspired to take a bunch of photos while wandering from tent to tent, so I snap a few as I go.

2. I post a picture of something odd or particular to Germany and she guesses what it might be (though she has gotten it right, more times than not).

I usually get some odd looks from the Germans selling their goods when I break out the camera or my phone.  It's like they can't figure out what could be so picturesque about their crates and stacks of fruits and veggies.  Of course, to me not much (except my gorgeous kiddos) could be any prettier.  Sometimes stealth is the wisest way to get a great photo, as is the case with the lovely older lady who had no idea I was taking pictures of the gently stacked flowers in her shopping basket this morning (so pretty!).

Last week's guessing game centered around the kohlrabi.  It's a totally alien-looking veggie that I had never encountered before moving to Germany.  Though I've noticed it's growing popularity in the US.  My roomie didn't know what it was, but my awesome sister guessed it right away.  I love kohlrabi raw- it's crunchy and juicy very much like an apple but with a sweet earthy flavor reminiscent of broccoli (it's a cousin after all) and cabbage.  But it's also great tossed with olive oil, salt and pepper and roasted along with root veggies.

The conversation that ensued after  disclosing the identity of the "mystery veggie" last week inspired me to make sure I picked up some kohlrabi this week.  As I walked around the market this morning I found several farmers selling giant green heads of it so I had my pick.  Yea me!  My basket also filled up with all sorts of late winter and early spring stuff and I could absolutely feel the transition in the air.  The warm sun, the bushels of tulips, radishes, spring onions.  It was like a perfect storm of inspiration.

I could feel the hibernation of winter shaking off.  The salad that I created when I got home was only the first step.  Hopefully the next few will take me towards asparagus and strawberries.  Then on to the beautiful apricots that lead the way to everything that is delicious and wonderful about summer.  In the meantime, the leftovers of this first salad of many are waiting for me to dig into again tomorrow.

Sweet!

Spring Kohlrabi Salad
Serves 6 as a side dish.
For the printable recipe, click here.

This crunchy salad is more like a slaw than a traditional salad.  Lots of texture and a great balance of flavors.  The dressing is light and slightly tangy with buttermilk and lemon.  I like the nuts in the salad, but you can certainly leave them out if you have nut issues.  Today I used almonds but would have tossed in walnuts if I had them.  Both are equally delicious in the salad.  And as a bonus, this is one salad that keeps well so it's perfect to make ahead or take along to a potluck or BBQ.  One further note- kohlrabi has very thick skin so you definitely need a good sharp peeler.  It might even take two passes to get all of the skin away.

1 pound kohlrabi (1 large head), peeled and sliced thinly into matchsticks
1 medium sweet apple such as honeycrisp or pink lady, sliced thinly into matchsticks
2 or 3 radishes, diced or sliced into matchsticks
1 small spring onion or 1 scallion, thinly sliced
2 tbs chopped parsley
3 tbs sliced almonds or chopped walnuts

1/4 cup buttermilk
1 tbs fresh lemon juice
1/2 tsp honey
1 1/2 tsp whole grain or dijon mustard

Place all the salad ingredients into a large bowl.  In a small bowl whisk together the buttermilk, lemon juice, honey and mustard.  Pour the dressing over the salad and toss gently.

The salad can be kept in the refrigerator overnight in a sealed container.

German Gingerbread {Lebkuchen}

This past week my youngest son's school had a Christmas party.  Families were invited and we grilled bratwurst over fire pits in the school yard, had hot punch and shared Christmas sweets.  If this seems like an idyllic German setting, let me set the record straight.  It was dark at 4:00 pm, 37 degrees out and mistily foggy.  It was a GREAT idea and I was super excited for it, but the reality was not so wonderful.  Let's just say we only lasted as long as it took my oldest to grill his bratwurst (which took way longer than his patience held out, truly) and have a few cookies.

I brought cookies to the celebration (of course).  I was excited and just a bit nervous to bring these particular cookies.  We had spent the weekend before exploring the Christmas markets in Munich and Salzburg and I fell in love with the cookie booths in both the German and Austrian cities. It's THE cookie around these parts.  And everyone's mom or grandma has their own way of making lebkuchen that is the "best" or "only" way to do it.  I think I went to one booth at the market in Salzburg that had 10 different versions for sale.  Some were studded with candies fruit, some dressed up with a chocolate coat and more plain versions decorated with almonds.  After all the tastings (purely for scientific reasons, of course) my favorites were lightly sweet and mildly spicy with a simple glaze and chewy middle.

The big question was- would my American version of everyone's favorite go over with the teachers and family's at my son's school.  I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I popped in the morning after the big grill out and the teacher gave me a big thumbs up while snacking on the leftover cookies.  Phew!  I'm so glad because I just love this cookie and having others feel the same way just feels so good.

German Gingerbread {Lebkuchen}
Makes about 3 dozen 3 inch cookies.
For the printable recipe, click here.

This recipe is the result of quite a bit of research into traditional lebkuchen recipes.  There were so many ways I could have gone, but I think after much tinkering I came up with my ideal version.  A few notes.  First, many lebkuchen recipes require long resting times either before or after baking to produce a more mature flavor.  I suppose that would work, but I found that an overnight rest in the fridge before baking was just right for my tastebuds.  Feel free to let the dough rest up to three days if you fancy a stronger spiciness.  Second, though I loved the snowflake cookie cutter that I used when making the cookies for this photo, I probably wouldn't use it again.  The spiky parts of the cookie baked much more quickly than I would have liked and I missed the chewy center that is the hallmark of the lebkuchen.  I think the angel shape was perfect, but if you really want to go traditional most lebkuchen that I saw in the markets were round.  If you find the cookies drying out as you keep them on your counter, take a cue from the Germans and place a slice of apple in your cookie jar to keep your lebkuchen fresh.

1/2 cup honey
2/3 cup packed brown sugar
1 large egg
2 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1/2 cup almond flour

1 tbs cocoa powder
1/2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp ground cloves
1/2 tsp ground ginger
1/4 tsp ground cardamom
1/2 tsp fresh lemon zest

1/2 cup sifted powdered sugar
2 tsp water

In a large bowl beat the honey, brown sugar and egg together.  Add the dry ingredients and carefully stir then into the wet ingredients until they are fully incorporated.  Cover the bowl and refrigerate the dough overnight and up to 3 days.

When ready to bake the cookies, preheat your oven to 350 degrees and line a cookie sheet with parchment.  Roll the dough out on a lightly floured surface (it can be a bit sticky) to 1/4 inch thick.  Cut shapes using a cookie cutter between 2 and 3 inches in diameter.  Place cookies on the prepared cookie sheet with a couple of inches between each cookie.  Bake one sheet at a time for 5-7 minutes.  You want the cookies to puff in the center and get just the lightest of golden on the edges but NOT browned.  If you let the cookies bake until browned they will be hard and lose their chewy middle.  Let the cookies cool for a couple of minutes to make them easier to handle before transferring them to a wire rack to cool completely.

Continue rolling and cutting cookies until you are out of dough (scraps can be rerolled a few times before it gets tough).

Meanwhile, mix together the powdered sugar and water to get a thin glaze.  When the cookies are completely cooled, brush them with the glaze.  Give the glaze a few minutes to set before serving.

Cookies will keep in an airtight container for 3 days on the counter.

Kurbissuppe {Pumpkin Soup}

I'm smitten.  In total and complete love.  And I'm not the only one.

We named our sweet baby girl Lorelei to honor her German birthplace.  But what we didn't know was just how true to her namesake she's proving to be.  Lorelei is known in German legend as a siren who lured men to her (and their doom) in the Rhine River.  In just two weeks our Lorelei has shown to have a pretty powerful hold over her daddy and two big brothers.  I can imagine that she will have the men in her life wrapped around her little finger as long as her heart desires.

This new little sweetheart came into our lives when we thought we were way past the "baby" stage of life.  I love my older boys and seeing their personalities unfold as they grow into young men.   So I was amazed at how quickly my heart was won over by their baby sister.  My fears of being completely unprepared emotionally for this new addition to our lives, of the change that would shake up our comfortable life and of how I would be able to juggle all of those new baby difficulties and still be a good mom to my boys were washed away the moment that incredibly chubby-cheeked face was presented to me.  In that moment I couldn't imagine our family without her.

A new season has begun in our family just as fall has descended upon us here in Germany.  I thought it fitting to share the most popular fall dish in our adopted home.  You know fall has arrived when you see two things in the market- huge pyramid stacks of crazily pointy cabbages called spitzkohl and pumpkins.  There are all sorts of pumpkins for sale, everything from presliced slabs of giant pumpkins to small winter squash like Hokkaido (or Kuri) squash.  And my favorite fall festivity may just be the carved and stacked pumpkins that cover the gardens at the yearly pumpkin festival at a nearby Baroque castle.  I think it will be Lorelei's first big introduction to the fests of Germany and rightfully so because in my mind her arrival will forever be linked to the crisp early days of the German autumn.

Kurbissuppe {Pumpkin Soup}
Serves 4 as a main course.
For the printable recipe, click here.

This is a pretty traditional German-style pumpkin soup.  There are no fancy spices or herbs here, it's pretty straightforward pumpkin.  I chose to use Hokkaido squash instead of a true pumpkin, but you could certainly use sugar pumpkins in place of the squash if you can find them.  I roasted my squash first to add a bit more flavor and the Hokkaido can be roasted and eaten with the skin on- a bonus in my book.  Here in Germany, the locals would drizzle pumpkin seed oil over their soup.  The oil is a glorious deep green color and really adds something to the flavor of the soup.  I didn't have any on hand, but found that a swirl of balsamic vinegar (I actually used a reduced balsamic glaze which you can find in many grocery stores these days) was the perfect foil for the rich soup.  I wouldn't skip that drizzle if I were you.  If you'd like a richer soup a swirl of creme fraiche wouldn't be out of place stirred into each bowl.  And if you have them, sprinkle a few roasted pumpkin seeds over the top.  The Germans would.

2 smaller-sized Hokkaido squash
1 medium yukon gold or other waxy potato, chopped into half inch cubes
1 small onion, chopped
2 carrots, peeled and chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped
6 cups chicken or vegetable stock (or even water if you want to keep the flavor pure pumpkin)
olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

Optional garnishes:
balsamic vinegar or balsamic cream
pumpkin seed oil
roasted pumpkin seeds
creme fraiche

Preheat your oven to 400 degrees.  Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Slice the Hokkaido squash in half and scrape out the seeds and membranes.  Cut the flesh into 2 inch wide crescents.  On the baking sheet, toss the squash with a drizzle of olive oil and salt and pepper.  Roast for 25-30 minutes, flipping halfway through, until the flesh is tender and caramelized at the edges. Coarsely chop once out of the oven.

With about 10 minutes left to the roasting time, heat a tablespoon of olive oil in a 5 quart stockpot over medium heat.  Stir in the onion and carrot and saute until just beginning to soften, about 4 minutes.  Add in the potatoes and garlic and saute for another 3 to 4 minutes (being careful not to burn the garlic).  Stir in the stock and roasted squash.  Add a pinch of salt and pepper.  Bring the soup to a boil and then reduce the heat a bit.  Simmer the soup until all of the vegetables are very tender, about 15-20 minutes.  Blend the soup in batches until smooth in a blender or in the pot using an immersion blender.

Serve the soup with a drizzle of balsamic vinegar or pumpkin seed oil, a sprinkle of roasted pumpkin seeds and a swirl of creme fraiche.

Zwetschgenkuchen {German Plum Cake}

I'm ready.  Done.  That's all she wrote folks....

I have never been one of those women who gets all glowy in pregnancy.  I don't gush and squeal and get all excited about ultrasounds.  I'm much more matter of fact about things.  I get the medical, clinical side of things and that's what I'm comfortable with.  But you're not going to see me glowing in all of my impending mommy-ness.  That's just not me.  I'm not even really a baby person.  I don't think I've ever walked up to a stranger with a baby and gotten all gooey about the baby's cuteness.  Other people babies make me a bit uncomfortable.  I'll hold your baby if you ask, but I'm not going to be the first to volunteer.  Not even the second if I'm being really honest.

Don't get me wrong- I love my children more than I ever would have thought possible.  I loved them when they were babies and was so thrilled that each of those little people was mine.  I've just found myself more comfortable with them as they've grown older.  More at ease and like I fit in my role as a mom.  I think I hit my stride somewhere around the 2 year old mark with each of my boys.  I enjoy them and their unique personalities and I feel much more like I fit into this "Mom" skin of mine.  So I guess to me, it's no surprise that I'm sort of ready to get on with this show. And by that I mean baby #3.

It's taken me this long to get used to the idea that there will even be a baby #3.  That's funny, I know.  The reality seems to finally be hitting me and I've gone into a bit of a nesting mode.  Names are being debated.  My husband and I never seem to agree until the last second and to his credit (shhhh...don't tell him I said this....) he is the one who's come up with the winning name each time with the boys.  We've got a little over 3 weeks until baby sister comes along, we'll come up with something great.  I'm just ready...

Zwetschgenkuchen
Makes 8 muffin-sized cakes.
For the printable recipe, click here.

This is one of the first treats I had here in Germany.  It's everywhere this time of year.  We're in the heart of plum season and this plum is one of two (the other being the Mirabelle) that you would typically find in the markets.  The plum to use here is called, in German, a Zwetschgen.  You might find it in the U.S. labeled as an Italian prune plum.  Damson plums would also be great in this recipe.  Of course, any plum you use will taste great so don't hesitate to try it if you can't find the ones I've used.  I did a bit of a take on the traditional in a couple of ways.  Usually this is baked as one large tart-like cake (in some parts of Germany the base is even made with a yeast dough, but not here in the south).  I've done them as mini cakes which I find get eat more quickly around my house.  And in deference to my gestational diabetes I tried to back off on the sugar and white flour.  I subbed in some oat flour in place of plain flour and I think it's really deliciously nutty.  One last note- in the photos you'll see some plum slices poking out.  I wish there had been way more!  So I'm going to write the recipe with that in mind.  If you're going to make a plum cake, you really need to taste the plum!

For the cake base:
1/4 cup plus 2 tbs sugar
5 tbs butter, room temperature
1 tsp lemon zest
1 large egg
1/2 cup plus 2 tbs oat flour (if you can't find this in the store, you can grind whole rolled oats into a powder in a food processor)
1/2 cup unbleached all purpose flour
3/4 tsp baking powder
1 tbs milk

8 Italian prune plums or Damson plums (or 6 regular plums)

For the streusel:
3 tbs cold butter
1/4 cup sugar
2/3 cup unbleached all purpose flour
2 tbs rolled oats

You can make the cake base by hand, with a food processor or mixer.  I did it in my food processor, but the steps would remain the same.  Place the sugar, butter and lemon zest in the bowl of a food processor and blend until light and fluffy and the sugar has dissolved.  Add the egg and quickly incorporate until the mixture is smooth.  Mix in the flours and baking powder and then the milk.  You will have a smooth, soft dough not unlike a cookie dough.  Refrigerate for a half hour to set the dough slightly.

In the meantime, pit and slice the plums into 6 slices (for the prune plums or Damsons, at least 8 slices for a larger plum).  Make the streusel by stirring together the sugar, flour and oats.  Using your fingertips, blend the butter into the dry ingredients until the streusel holds together in clumps and the butter in in pieces about the size of peas.

Remove the cake base dough from the refrigerator and preheat your oven to 350 degrees.  Divide the dough into 8 balls and press each ball into the bottom of a regular sized muffin cup, pressing so that the dough is even and also spread slightly up the sides of the muffin cup.  Place as many plum slices as you can fit into the muffin cup.  Repeat this procedure for each of the 8 cakes.  Divide the streusel evenly over the plums in each cup.  Bake the cakes for about 20 minutes.  The tops will be firm to the touch and the streusel a light golden color.  Cool completely before serving.

Spiced Apple Glühwein

I've been restless lately.  Antsy, if you will.  Germany is a great place to be, but I haven't found my "thing" here yet.  You know that thing that I mean.  It's the one that gets you out of bed in the morning and makes you excited for the day that's to come.  I'm not sure how I want to spend my time- what would be the most valuable way to spend the hours I have free during the day.  Do I want to volunteer on the base?  Take German language courses?  Work on my fitness or simply explore the area and work on my photography?  Not knowing what to do with my time means I usually end up roaming around doing not much of anything.  That's about the least fulfilling way to spend my time and it's been incredibly frustrating.

What I've been up to lately in my journey to find a purpose, my "thing" if you will, is planning several upcoming family getaways.  At the very least it's a nice distraction.  We've done quite a bit of traveling around Germany and it's been wonderful to see the culture and history of the country we're living in.  But my restless spirit is in need of more.  This past weekend was the start of that "more"  for me.  Hours of scouring the internet and pouring through travel books led to a whirlwind trip to Alsace, France. 

We spent the weekend gazing up at the most stunning Cathedrals and searching out castles and sunset views of the Alsatian wine country.  It was incredibly beautiful.  I gazed in the window of every boulangerie and patisserie we passed.  The kugelhopf that Alsace is known for was featured in every shop.  There were half timbered houses lining the streets and canals in an area of the town of Strasbourg called "Petite France".  Here we wandered around and found flea markets and food vendors lining the sidewalks.  I scored the best fromage blanc with cinnamon and plums at a stall right next to live geese and ducks for sale.  Seriously?  I suppose the French take fresh food very seriously.

As we drove home last night through the first snowfall in the Black Forest (can you get more fabulously cliche than that?), I felt renewed.  I have a few souvenirs in my wine cellar and additions to my pottery collection, but the best thing that I brought back was a peace that I think will last until the next big adventure.  In the meantime, I have a Thanksgiving feast for all of our American friends to whip up and a trip to Rome to plan.  I'm so looking forward to a little bit of home as well as the newest city to conquer.  I guess finding my "thing:" can wait just a little longer.

Spiced Apple Glühwein
Serves 4-6 people.  Adapted from a traditional German recipe.
For the printable recipe, click here.

As the winter kicks into gear here in Europe, this is the sort of warm drink that you can find in every Christmas market, crepe shop and corner restaurant.  Whether you call it mulled wine, vin chaud or glühwein the constants are warm wine and wintery spices. What else goes in is up to you.  I like the traditional red wine but sometimes it can be too sweet and heavy.  This white wine version is light and lightly spiced- perfect for sipping with a house full of friends and family on a chilly Thanksgiving afternoon or after a few hours of raking leaves in the yard.  You can let it simmer on the lowest setting on your stove top or pour it in a slow cooker set to low and leave it on the counter for everyone to sample.  When I made my version pictured here I put the whole spices straight into the pot with the juice and wine.  I think I would have liked a bit more of the spice flavor to come through so I am suggesting that you toast the spices until fragrant before stirring them into the wine.  The recipe below reflects this change. 

1 bottle of dry white wine such as a Pinot Gris, Sauvingon Blanc, or Viognier
1 cup of unsweetened apple juice (preferably fresh pressed and unfiltered if you can get it)
3 tbs raw or turbinado sugar
1 orange sliced into thin rounds
8 slices of dried apple
3 cinnamon sticks
5 whole cardamom pods
1 star anise
8 cloves
thinly sliced apple for serving

In a medium pot stir together the wine, apple juice, sugar, orange slices and dried apple.  In a separate small, dry pan toast the spices over medium low heat for just a minute or two.  You'll know they are ready when the spices become very fragrant.  Stir the spices into the rest of the ingredients.  Heat the glühwein over low heat for at least 15 minutes before serving.  Serve each cup with a slice of apple (and a cinnamon stick if you wish).

Balsamic Braised Cabbage with Apples and Bacon

 If you've been following along recently, you'll know that my family and I spent a month living in a hotel room when we first got to Germany.  Actually two adjoined rooms, the kids in one and hubs and I in the other.  It was a kind of torturous hell for several reasons.  First, there's no escape.  No way to be on your own, even for just a few minutes.  I love my family, but I think by the end of that month I didn't like them very much.  There's only so much SpongeBob I can listen to (in German, no less) without wanting to throw the TV out the window onto the unsuspecting folks innocently waiting for the bus out in front of the hotel.  We were all driving each other crazy.  And don't even get me started on the awful domino effect of one of us picking up a stomach bug.....That was a seriously miserable weekend.

One thing I did gain from that month in hotel purgatory was an intimate familiarity with German cuisine.  Having no kitchen means you eat EVERY meal out.  Which may sound great, and it was.  For about a week.  Then it got very old very quickly.  We had no car for quite a while, so we had a few choices of restaurants that we could walk to (or brave the riding the train to downtown Stuttgart, which is quite intimidating for a newcomer).  Our choices were mainly German biergartens or little Italian trattorias.  In other words- pork, potatoes, pizza and pasta.  If it wasn't for the fact that I was walking everywhere I think I would have gained 15 pounds in that month.  By the end of the month, those 4 p's of my new diet left me seriously craving fresh vegetables.

 Germany's answer to the vegetable with dinner (if indeed you get a veggie) is cabbage in all of it's various renderings.  You will find it chopped and quickly pickled, fully sauerkraut-ed, sliced and quickly sauteed with some apple or slow cooked- usually with some bacon or other smoked pork.  I've never been a cabbage girl.  In fact, living in SoCal, we used to live fields where cabbages grew all year long and the smell when the cabbages were harvested was enough to make me want to stay away from the cruciferous veggie for a long, long time.  But necessity being what it is and my choices being limited, I've learned to like (kinda) cabbage. Today's recipe reflects the way that I've found like cabbage best.  When slow cooked with vinegar, bacon and apples cabbage loses most of it's stinky quality and becomes silky, sweet/tart and slightly smoky.  The Germans know a thing or two about pork and in my opinion pairing pork and cabbage is one of their best culinary contributions to date.  Oh, and beer.  And pretzels.  Or Black Forest cake.   Maybe strudel....

Balsamic Braised Cabbage with Apples and Bacon
Serves 4.  Adapted only slightly from the irresistible Jamie Oliver.
For the printable recipe, click here.

This is a simple recipe for a Sunday supper side dish.  It takes a while to braise, but the ingredients are few and easy to come by.  I like it served along side braised pork shoulder for a very German meal.  You can use whatever cabbage you like.  The original recipe called for purple cabbage, which would be a beautiful color when finished.  I found savoy cabbage at my market and it seemed to hold up very well to the long braise.  As I was using a green cabbage I thought the heavy dark balsamic vinegar from Jamie Oliver's recipe would turn the dish an odd brown color.  I found a white balsamic in my cupboard and went with that, though I think apple cider vinegar would work just as nicely and add a bit more punch to the end result.

4 slices of thick sliced smoked bacon, chopped into 1/2 inch pieces
1 tsp cumin or fennel seeds
1 small onion, halved and sliced
1 apple, cut into 1/2 inch chunks
1 head of savoy cabbage, roughly chopped
2/3 cup white balsamic or apple cider vinegar
salt and pepper to taste

In a large skillet, cook the bacon over medium heat until it is brown and (in Jamie Oliver's words) slightly sticky.  Toss in the cumin seeds and saute for a moment until they are fragrant.  Add the onions, stir and cover the pan.  Cook until the onions become wilted and slightly translucent (about 5 minutes).

Add the apples, cabbage and vinegar and stir to combine ingredients well.  Lower the heat to low, replace the lid and cook, stirring occasionally, for an hour.  The cabbage will be wilted and silky and the vinegar will have been absorbed almost completely.  Serve right away.