Four years of high school German and all I got out of it was the ability to ask someone for directions to a bus stop* and a drinking song.
In München steht ein Hofbräuhaus (Eins, Zwei, g’suffa! )
Da läuft so manches Fäßchen aus (Eins, Zwei, g’suffa!)
Da hat schon mancher brave Mann (Eins, Zwei, g’suffa!)
Gezeigt, was er so vertragen kann (Eins, Zwei, g’suffa!)
(And, at a much later date, a very large appreciation for bier.)
Certified toe-sucker. That’s me. And hoi! You! Get your mind out of the gutter! The only toes I’m sucking belong to a chicken. Multiple chickens maybe. Skinned, chopped off at the knee and braised in a sweet and salty black bean sauce. Mmmyum!
It was the Saturday before Father’s Day when the family & I decided to descend upon Chequers. We’d usually head out to Rhodes, but there were things to do, places to be and assignments to complete (the sister, not me). And besides, it had been a while since our last visit, a couple of years in fact, and we were curious to see how time had affected this once lauded joint.
…continue reading chequers
I have been suffering withdrawals. Malaysian food withdrawals to be exact. And, in my persistent stubbornness, I’ve refused to try to sate them. “It won’t be the saaaame!” I moan. “I don’t want tooooo!” I protest. So I am suitably sien (which is hokkein for a cross between tired and non-plussed) when (having neglected to make a booking for my mother’s birthday myself) my dad calls me up to say “We’ve booked at Kuali for tonight. See you then.”
“So, how often do you all eat out together like this?” asks Chef Hiro, as I make my way through the kitchen (on the way back from the bathroom). I thought for a moment before glancing over at the table from whence I came. “Fairly often” I replied “and if we aren’t eating out, we’ll find a way to eat in!”
And then a strange, warm, familiar feeling came over me. Less than a year ago, the people I was eating with were names on a screen. People I only knew through the food they ate and the pictures they took. And now, there were faces, and phone numbers, and emails that seemed to take on a life of their own… and tapas.
If you pass by Maitre Karl pre-sunset, you will most likely see an assorted gaggle of young and old, hip and not-so, human and canine. If you are lucky, the canine will be tethered to the coat hooks that are firmly lodged in the wall, just outside the door, and under the blackboard. “Garage á chiens” the sign reads. “Parking for dogs“. And if the canines are lucky, they will be snacking on a canine-friendly treat, served up in a round metal bowl. I have been and seen on previous occasions, supped on the kitchen speciality of flammenkuche (complete with sharp knife and the heavy wooden board of a plate it comes on), and flashed a toothy grin at Chef Lex who works in the kitchen.
…continue reading maitre karl
