Still dreaming of Pho...

After the hot, steaming bowl of Pho goodness I had a couple of nights ago, I am still salivating over the thought of the stuff.

A Pho bowl in the Pacific Northwest

The above photo really does not do justice the the spread that often accompanies the steaming, hot bowl of goodness.  This stuff is just so rich and nutritious, often accompanied by several little bowls of veggies that you dump right into your bowl.

Pho. Love.

The Golden Cross/Zum Golden Kreuz- Parsberg

I was a bit skeptical when I heard about "really great Vietnamese food" in Parsberg, the closest little town to our place of residence. I don't like to be negative from the get-go, but I just really wondered- "Good Vietnamese food around these parts?  How? Why?"

I grew up in California, eating really good Mexican food.  I am picky about my Mexican food.

I spent years in Hawai'i  eating really good sushi.  I am picky about my sushi and Japanese food.

So yeah, I was skeptical. I am no connoisseuer of Vietnamese food but all I knew is that I did not want to be sick with bad Vietnamese (or other) food.

5 months after the recommendation, we have now been to The Golden Cross at least a handful of times.  Always a good experience.

Pho

I was introduced to Pho in Portland, Oregon a few years ago, where Pho shops actually abound in straightforward abundance.  Up until then, I was completely unaware of it's medicinal deliciousness.  On the night these photos were taken, I was on the brink of a changing-of-the-seasons sniffle attack.  The good and hot bowl of Pho, complimented with additions of spiciness, was truly a simple culinary remedy.

The Golden Cross was restored and modernized in 1997.  There is an obvious preservation of character at work.  In fact, on this particular night of dining, our "waiter" (the restaurant owner) provided info, in one of those synchronistic and lovely moments.  I had come to the restaurant that night with my camera, determined to finally capture images of the space and the food.  Moments after we sat down, we were approached by the owner who immediately delved into a sort of monologue about the place, it's history and his role in it.

Sweet and sour chicken

 I think I have had this every single time I came here.  This time, I ordered both this and the Pho, a bit embarrassed by my gluttony, but actually, not really caring too much. It's good stuff.

Lüsterweibchen

The restaurant owner assured us that the term for this type of chandelier is basically un-translatable.  I'll leave it at that, save for mentioning that these lüsterweibchen typically feature females in varied pose, commonly with antlers.  It's a lovely tradition.  I would like one of my own frankly.  The one pictured above is from the late 1700's/early 1800's and was a gift to the restaurant from a well known (a.k.a. the richest family in these parts) family in Parsberg.

Thank you to the amiable staff at The Golden Cross for continued good dining experiences in your historic, atmospheric and comfortable restaurant.

P.S. The Golden Cross also serves up some excellent traditional German fare as well as Mediterranean and Italian dishes.  I know.  I have seen and tasted some of them.  I am just a diehard spring roll/ pho soup advocate so my posts are going to be spring roll/sweetsourchick/pho centric.

Warning!!!! Berlin Weekend Brunch

 Photo: A quickie breakfast on our Sunday in Berlin, January 2011

On our January adventure to the spaceship city of Berlin, we made the mistake of not providing ample time in a whirlwind weekend trip for a legitimate brunch experience.

I fell in love with Berlin in Winter of 2002, partly due to such a weekend brunch experiences- Sunday morn with friends in a candlelit and spacious, yet cozy cafe that eventually unravelled into hours (and I mean hours) of dialogue, good food, coffee and later other libations....

It was humanity at it's simplest, and finest.  Good company, good sustenance in your tummy and the leisure and "freedom" to sit amidst a vaguely smoky (that has changed now) and nook filled cafe and celebrate a simple day with the ones you kno, trust and love.

Berlin.  Next time around, it's on.  Sunday brunch, we will not miss you.

Bavarian Snowballs

Heading up the hill to Neuschwanstein Castle, the sight and smell of these Bavarian Snowballs caught my senses.  I was hungry but decided to save the sweet delight for the descent.  They are basically light donut holes smothered in a powdered sugar that coated my outfit more than it did my tongue.  

The donuts were just a prelude to experiencing the Schlossrestaurant Neuschwanstein.  Upon being handed the Bavarian Snowball treat I realized that a) they looked and smelled delicious and b) I was very hungry and needed a proper meal.

So in we went.  I passed on the overpriced and slim choice of offerings at the cafe in the Castle, but was pleasantly surprised by the menu at this place.  At the end of the day I just had some fried chicken and pommes frites with mayonnaise.  The food was more than decent, especially for the price, and it was a lovely atmosphere.

Everything, everywhere has me thinking of summer and I can only dream about how lovely this restaurant is in the summertime, balconies overlooking the sprawling forest filled with travellers from all over the country and globe. 

It certainly doesn't look like it, but the restaurant was buzzing a little bit by the time we left (photo taken at the beginning of the meal).  I liked the food, and dug the atmosphere.

Bavarian snowballs led us here.

A Heart for Kartoffelpuffer, a.k.a. Bangers

I think I fell in love with potato pancakes (or latkes, as they were presented to me) at a Hanukkah feast some years back. Crisp and freshly fried, I immediately acquired a fondness for this treat, complemented perfectly with a smothering of applesauce.

Some years later, now living in Germany, I delighted to find out that the potato pancake has a degree of popularity here as well, in different forms.

Potato pancakes with applesauce at the Nürnberg Christmas Market

Experiencing a German Christmas Market for the first time late last year, in Nürnberg, my main treasure was to be found late at night, after exploring the stalls and passages for hours.

A plate of Kartoffelpuffer, with the complementary applesauce, before a train ride home. Fried up fresh at the stall, served simple and quick and devoured right there near St. Sebaldus Cathedral as the Christmas market revelry was reaching it's night peak, this for me was a perfect treat.

Night View on Bergstraße 19, Nürnberg in late January 2011

A couple of months later, I find myself in Nürnberg again. This time, en route towards an "exclusive" tour of the historic Nürnberg underground .

The meeting point, with a dear friend who had arranged the tour, was at the Hausbrauerei Altstadthof.

I could gather, from its' location on Google maps, that it was a very brief jaunt from St. Sebaldus Cathedral, where I had already been a few times- the fact of St. Sebaldus being the patron saint of the city now engraved in my mind.

I did not even bother trying to figure out the specific route to get to the street where I needed to be. I decided to leave things to on-the-spot navigation savvy (the slightly unplanned, "What the hell!" approach) as well as my current back up line now while travelling about Germany- "Sprechen Sie Englisch?"

What's fun about asking this question is that, roughly 50 percent of the time the respondent will sort of purse their lips apologetically and shake their head no, at which point I will proceed in broken or simply bad German, with hand gestures and sometimes visual props like maps I have drawn in my journal, to try to still ferret out some help. So far, so good.

Except for that one time at the S-Bahn in Berlin when the Bahn representative clearly spoke no English (or did not want to) and simply did not want to engage....leaving my husband and I feeling both mystified and extremely foreign on the platform of a train in East Berlin.

Anyway, back to the story.....

I found my way to the Hausbrauerei Altstadthof. I had to ferret out some help on a street around the St. Sebaldus Cathedral. The words the lady spoke are still a mystery to me but her hand gestures "towards that way" were clear enough, and my destination was not far.

En route there, I got distracted by all the lovely and interesting shops and stopped in one, Bohne & Kleid, to look around. The shop was great but it took only a few moments for me to realize that I had neither time nor money to shop, so hurried out of there, but not before confirming with the shopkeeper the whereabouts of my destination-- which were confirmed as a few buildings up.

I arrived at my destination point, thrilled to meet my Berlin based friend for the first time outside of the German capital city and now near the land of the Wolpertingers. I was ready for a beer and some dialogue and the ensuing tour of what I would soon see to be a very rich and layered underground sector of Nürnberg.

But I was simply not ready or willing to really deal with a menu. For me, dealing with menus and food choices is sometimes like shopping for clothes. If I don't figure out something in about 3 minutes, the situation is hopeless and I need to move on or have someone else decide for me. No patience whatsoever.

This is particularly the case when I am hungry.

In this case I was hungry. And I am well aware of the dangers of foregoing food and having a few rich beers.

So, I gave the menu a few minutes. Immediately my eyes fell on the "Bangers."

"What are bangers?" I asked my friend.

He did not know.

A few moments later, I repeated the question, insistent that perhaps the definition of bangers might hold the cure to my hunger as well as food choice for the eve.

I am happy to report that I believe my own foodie radar may be in a nascent, yet vital stage of development. Throughout the entirety of our preliminary beers and menu exploration, I was absolutely fixated on these mysterious "bangers." The rest of the menu was, in fact, a complete haze of non-options to me.

The waitress was lovely and also appeared quite happy and matter-of-fact with the whole business of speaking English. When asked, she promptly explained the bangers as potato pancakes.

Bangers it immediately was.

Bangers at Hausbrauerei Altstadthof

Served up with smoked salmon and horseradish. I ravished the plate of food. I will return....

...And spend some time exploring why the Kartoffelpuffer is called bangers at this lovely brewery, up past St. Sebaldus Cathedral, in the vicinity of the reconstructed Castle, there in Nürnberg.

Altes Europa

Altes Europa came at the suggestion of a friend who met us at the Hackescher Markt S-bahn station and proceeded to navigate us through the corridors of this pedestrian yet somewhat posh neighborhood of Berlin, Mitte. Mid afternoon, on a Sunday, the area was alive with residents and tourists milling about, enjoying a crisp and sunny winter January day.

"Raucher Salon"

The smoking room

According to an image on its' website, Altes Europa cafe might have definitely chosen it's name as a humorous slam against a certain American politician's snarky comments about "Old Europe." Regardless, the sense of what might have been a salon or cafe in "Old Europe" can perhaps be imagined in the decor, in the "smoking salon" located within the cafe and the general hardwood floor ambiance and candlelit sessions of delicious food, libations and dialogue.

It's completely unfortunate that I didn't get any photos of the food. My dedication as a food blogger is, to date, a bit half baked and there are certainly dining moments that seem more critical to remember than to document. That said, I do have some regret that I did not snap some quick images of the dishes. Whatever chicken dish I had was outstanding and the other diners were sated and pleased as well. Atmosphere + delicious food= Altes Europa, I will return.

More than a Morsel in Munich

I am decidedly not the world's biggest fan of German food. In fact, I probably cannot even be found on the list of fans of German food.

But, at a traditional German restaurant I can usually find something to whet my appetite, and enjoy it in the process. And on our first visit to Munich, after a couple of hours of navigating the streets, I was more than happy to stumble upon Utzinger, in the University District.

My happiness was threefold in nature.

1- Hunger. I was hungry. Just plain hungry

2- Space. This first adventure of ours to Munich took place on the last day of 2010. The downtown area was sort of a pleasant, very crowded madness and we passed by many a good looking restaurant that just looked simply too crowded to deal with. Utzinger had a nice sort of busy relaxedness to it, and a handful of cozy tables to choose from.

3- Quality. While we chose the place sort of haphazardly and by default of being ready to eat then and there, I was glad to find that the menu looked great.

Good prices, good food, good atmosphere, good company. Who could ask for anything more?

Rosenkohl suppe

Oh my was this lovely.

After some investigation, found out that Rosenkohl is brussel sprouts.

I love brussel sprouts.

And now I know I love brussel sprout soup.

Just a burger and fries.

A really good burger and fries.

The other diner had this dish, named the "Nurnberger," consisting of Weiss sausages, sauerkraut and mustard. Seemed to hit the spot.

All in all, a simply lovely place to have stumbled upon. I am both adventurous but also a creature of habit, so may find myself popping in here for a morsel or a Hefeweizen on future excursions.