Thursday, October 12, 2017

My hatred for German pizza and other assorted crap...

Well, maybe it's wrong to say that I hate German pizza.  Hate is a strong word.  I can say that I don't like it very much.  It's horrible to say this, but I actually prefer American pizza.  I like a big pizza that can be shared, with flavorful and plentiful sauce, lots of cheese, and toppings.  German pizzas seem weird to me.  I can't get used to them.  But I will eat them on occasion, even if I miss the odd American style pepperoni pizza (here you get salami because pepperoni is a type of pepper).

German pizzas are served uncut.  One pizza can serve two people... or one, if the one person is hungry.  They tend to have weird toppings on them like rucola.  A lot of the pizzerias are owned by Italians.  Sometimes, they even have wood or stone ovens.  However, I seem to like pizza in Italy more than I do Germany.

German Chinese food is kind of weird, too.  It's not like American Chinese food.  You won't find a pupu platter here or sweet and sour pork.  My favorite German Chinese dish tends to be crispy duck, but sometimes it comes with my least favorite food, mushrooms.  And forget finding American style Mexican food, which I know isn't real Mexican food, but it's what I'm used to.  German Mexican food mostly blows.

Germans do pork well.  They make a hell of a schnitzel.  And they make good boiled potatoes, pretzels, and bread dumplings (which I can never finish).  I don't mind German food, but I find it kind of boring sometimes.

Dare I say it?  I'm actually kind of missing America.  I don't really miss the weird politics or wingnuts, but I miss the food.  My Italian friend, Vittorio, would be horrified to read this.  What can I say?  America is home.  I've been away for almost three solid years.  It would have been three years, had I not gone back for Thanksgiving in 2014.  The longer I'm away, the less I feel connected to my family, too.  Maybe that's not a bad thing, since I seem to have wildly divergent politics.

Bill got a pleasant email from the landlady yesterday.  She kindly informed him that they will be over today to cut the grass and turn off the outside water source so the pipes don't freeze.  Beautiful.  That's all I was hoping for.  I can be dressed, have the dogs settled, and make sure there are no landmines outside.

My talk with the young moms seemed to go well enough.  I probably wasn't as organized as I could have been and they had really little kids, so my suggestions may not have been helpful for those whose kids are tiny.  But the one main point I was hoping to make was that Germany, as aggravating as it can be, is a great place to spend a few years.  No American should take living here for granted.  There's a lot to see.  Bill and I spent way too much time sitting around and visiting large cities when we were here the first time.  It's been amazingly rewarding to see more local attractions this time.  Even though I may never be fluent in Schwabish German, I feel like I know the place better.

So this actually looks more like flammkuchen, which is Alsatian (French) pizza.  It's not horrible, but I still miss what I know.  I have a feeling that when we move back, I'll pine for Germany again.

This entry probably could have gone on my travel blog.  I will probably write something else later... something rantable.  But I was feeling so blue yesterday morning, that I thought I'd write a follow up so people don't think I'm about to do something desperate.  I'm not desperate.  I think I'm just really annoyed and badly in need of a road trip.  The cruise was great, but it was kind of exhausting.  We were always busy doing something or eating something or riding on a coach.  I want to go somewhere we can drive to or maybe hit a new country.  Or stay in Germany, but visit a different region.  

I need to renew the love for Germany... and stop wishing we'd moved to Italy.  Geez, what a ridiculous problem to have.  

Bill gets to go to Morocco next week.  I'll be sitting here, watching the clouds and perhaps making music or something... hoping nothing shitty happens.  Hoping I stop coughing.


  1. Do Germans cut their pizza t the table, or eat from a common pie with knives and forks? I'm curious.

    My cousin's paternal grandfather's ancestors were from the Alsace region, but the grandfather insists that the are GERMAN!!! and not french. I find it hysterical. When his offspring got their DNA done (which I think is 50% bogus, but it's still funny to me) neither one had a drop of the category categorizes as Western European, which french and German would be. It came back Irish, British Isles, Scandinavian, and Ashkenazi. So much for the grandaather's master race.

    1. The pizzas here are usually smaller. I notice that Germans eat most things with knives and forks, too. I have even seen them eat burgers that way.

      My own DNA results indicate that 5% of my background was German and French (probably more German, though). I was over 78% British/Irish and the rest European. The only surprise was the trace DNA they found from South Asia. Maybe one of my distant relatives got with someone from India or something.


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