Living it up in Berlin

Andres ran a half marathon to raise money for the American Liver Foundation this weekend! (Note: That is not a typo: I would never ever willingly do such a thing.) In honor of him, I want to share my wonderfully comforting liverwurst breakfast from last weekend in Berlin.

Actually, I technically ate this on The Day The Wall Fell (+20 years)! But the meal was more symbolic just because it was an everyday breakfast, enjoyed over delicious espresso and conversation. I just love German bread -- packed with sunflower seeds, pumpkin seeds, seeds the English language has no words for -- and spread with liverwurst? Excellent. It's creamy and packed with protein, so it's comforting in a way that salami never will be. Plus, ours was "Bio", which means that the people of Berlin will accept us into their fold. We did good.

Sausage in mysterious places

If you can't tell, these pierogi are Ukrainian, ordered in a German brew house in Warsaw. They are very straight-forward. Meat with some seasoning (not much) folded into rather hearty dough. These are boiled, so it's essential to douse them in sour cream. The texture is terrific, actually, warming and filling. This food tastes fundamentally nourishing.

I'm not _quite_ sure if I'd call it sausage, but I think the principle is the same. Package up the less-than-awesome meat in a new way, tastes like new!

Guest sausage: Boudin from Paris!

I don't exactly believe that sausages are universal. Because, that would be universalist. Also, it's not true. I do think, however, that often times people around the world have tried to preserve meat (or "other") using spices. Because meat goes bad, and refrigeration was invented relatively recently. And obviously I know it's fun to try sausages from different places. But, I can't be everywhere at once or eat sausage all the time (rather, that's not a risk I'm willing to take for my heart). So, I get a little help from my friends. Louis and Maggie sent me this picture of a totally awesome meal they made in Paris one night. There was another photo, too, but my computer doesn't like it. Trust me, really awesome. And probably healthy(ier that Polish sausage)!

Louis wrote:
"Well we had a delicious sausage-centric dish tonight that I wanted to tell you about. In France, weisswurst is called boudin and you can get it in the supermarket for cheap (and therefore mediocre). Here, they eat it with baked apple - Maggie had it at the house where she babysits and liked it. Tonight, we tried something different, cooking it, chopping it up, and throwing it in a stew/soup with white beans, zucchini, tomato, garlic, and various spices. It was delicious! We definitely plan on trying it again with higher quality boudin."

"So good, so good, so good!"

The perspective in this photograph makes it appear as though I ate enough egg noodles for an entire family. This is not the case. Well, it was the case earlier in the week, but this portion was actually totally acceptable in size. It is even blessed by fresh spinach and cumin, a recent triumphal find from the nearby Asian market.

What is excellent about this meal is everything. The hearty noodles, the caramelized onions, and the Potocka Kiełbasa. The Potocki family is one of the legendary aristocratic families of Poland, and it is unclear to me whether or not the name of this sausage references the elite excellency of the family or its place of origin (Potok). The internet will not tell me. It's kind of irrelevant, though, because my attempt to grill this in a pan with the onions (yes that means butter and pork fat!) produced something worthy of the elaborate plumage of the coat of arms most associated with it. Smoky, woody, but not salty, so that my chilled Żywiec actually lightened up the meal.

Indian food!

Though I am firmly invested in the belief that sausage makes pork a fascinating meat, I was pretty excited that the British Isles offer some terrific Indian food. At a buffet one evening, there was a whole tray of lamb sausage with onions, peppers, and spices that I'm sure I have yet to taste in Poland.

The surprise sausage! And look at those: chick peas, too! I'm wistful just thinking about about the layers of flavor in these dishes.

Sausage on the Move

I've been traveling around, mostly to various concert venues across Warsaw. Often these are churches, and I'm here to settle one question for all time: no, there is not sausage sold outside of Polish masses.

There is one thing we can always count on, though: full English breakfast and the "banger" that comes with it. I'm a big fan of the energy eggs provide with a morning meal, always. The sausage is shifty, though. Do we fill it with flour to save on the meat, soak up the fat, and help create a crispy shell? Or, is this meal a tribute to protein: eggs, beans, sausage, ham?

Doesn't matter, I've only ever eaten this meal in hotels, and on this trip the sausage was dry, but tasty. And, it had less salt than the ham. Thankfully.

Stormy weather

The sun has shone down on Warsaw frequently this fall. So, usually, I trot about town in the late afternoon, making sure to wiggle after a day of sitting and reading. I peek at food stands and pause in parks. In other words, I generally enjoy the brisk weather but am somewhat aimless. In the height of discovery, the sun tends to set, a couple of rain drops fall, and I realize that I've got a place to be: home. These earlier and earlier evenings encourage meals that percolate for a while, and so I've taken to making stews and soups. (Plus there's nothing like a cold eggplant curry for lunch at the archive to inspire you to get back to work!)

Good thing sausage tastes mighty delicious in soup. I bought a smoked sausage, chopped it up, and browned it. The whole apartment smelled like a campfire, and my roommate even had an allergic reaction to this suffocating aroma. Tantalizing, though: what would it taste like? The smokiest beef jerky? I crafted a split pea soup around the idea that this was a salty, strongly flavored sausage. All in all, I would say my white sausage experience leaves me over-cooking things a bit...but this sausage packs a punch. It ended up being a much-needed textural counterpoint to the soup. And crunchy, too. The triumph of my work was drizzling balsamic on this soup, the sweetness made the meatiness of the sausage make sense.