After last night's wake, both touching and sad, Mama and I went out for German food at a local restaurant. I don't often give much thought to my German heritage (Gommie was half-German, with non-English speaking grandparents, if I recall), though it is the one Gommie mentions most (hmmmm, is that the reason?), with her adages about work before play, frugality, and practicality. I bet you can see how that doesn't really appeal to me?
But last night's meal was just what we needed--potatoes comfort the soul. And we had them mashed, roasted, pancaked, and vinegared in a salad. Sis would have been in heaven. Mama and I also enjoyed pilzsuppe (mushroom soup), a variety of wursts, sauerbraten, rouladen, jagerschnitzel, wiener schnitzel, sauerkraut, red cabbage, spaetzle, and other dishes; it was a buffet. For dessert, apple strudel and bienenstitch, a vanilla custard pastry.
Funny, though Gommie talks a German game, she doesn't really cook one--she's never made any of the above, though she tells stories of the vat of sauerkraut bubbling at the top of her grandmother's dirt cellar from which she would scoop big handfuls to eat.
But as I sat there enjoying everything (sans the rye bread, which I just do not like), I realized that, though I might not think of myself as German in any way (and I am only 1/4), my tastebuds are drawn to it--potatoes, bready things, tender meats with heavy sauces--it was a non-vegetarian meal for me; I should probably not call myself a vegetarian anymore. And the krainer wurst, this reddish sausage, looked and smelled like all of the beef sausages I grew up eating at barbecue places; it tasted like home, which was welcome on this dreary night.
Oddly, I am not a lover of strudel, or many German desserts, which might disqualify me as German right off.
So even though the evening was sorrowful, the dinner was wonderful and we look forward to taking the kids back.
Because, you know, they are 1/8th German!