…is German fresh cheese, in case you wondered, and it’s impossible to get in Hong Kong. There are other fresh cheeses of course: Philadelphia cream cheese, Italian mascarpone, Indian paneer but they are just not the same as my beloved Quark. Quark is light, has no E numbers, makes terrific airy cheesecake, and is lovely and healthy with fresh herbs mixed in over a baked or boiled potato. I grew up with it, it was always available and cheap, it’s used as an ingredient in many dishes I love.
If you can’t buy it, make your own, I thought. I already bake my own sourdough bread, why not have a go at Quark?
I came across this old instruction:
1) milk a cow
2) let the milk sit in a covered bowl in a warm place
3) when it has turned into soured milk and set after a day or two
4) put it into muslin cloth and hang it over a bowl, separating cheese from whey
5) next day you have quark
I don’t have a cow, I only have a supermarket with milk imported from California, Australia, and other various places. So I went onto the internet, and other German expatriates told me that your average bought milk will not turn sour these days, because bacteria (good and bad) are none existent in homogenized, pasteurized, sterilized from udder to tetra-paked milk.
The only choice you have is to buy this non-bacteria milk and add lactic acid bacteria back into it. That’s what I did.
On the left, Californian milk which is relatively cheap at roughly US$2 per liter, and Australian milk on the right which costs more than US$4 per liter but actually tastes like fresh milk. Yep, milk products are expensive in Hong Kong, it’s soya territory.
I put a heaped tablespoon of high quality sour cream into each bowl (US$3.40 per tiny pot). Sour cream is cream fermented with lactic acid bacteria, exactly the bugs needed for turning sterile supermarket milk into soured milk. You can also try buttermilk.
The process for making quark is similar to making your own yoghurt, only the bacteria have a different name.
After a night and half day of sitting in a warm spot (blood temperature is ideal: oven heated to lowest setting and the cooled down a bit, place one foot away from central heating, etc.), the milk has soured and set, and the cream (from the tablespoon of sour cream) has set on top. The Australian milk set better than than the cheaper California milk, but both tasted the same.
Scrape away the cream (or leave it in for extra goodness) and put the soured milk into a double layer of muslin cloth or a squeaky clean kitchen towel, and hang it over a bowl (or measuring can, if your window hook is fairly high up like mine… yes, it took me a while to find a good spot)
After a day or two you will have quark or cream cheese or whatever you want to call it (with no E numbers nor xanthan gum). The fat content will be iffy, but wholesome.
I originally intended to bake cheesecake with it, but it didn’t last long enough. Half of it I ate straight out of the bowl with a spoon, some of it I served to my friends as a spread on my self-made sourdough bread, the rest little man ate for breakfast with jam mixed in.
It was better than any quark I have ever bought in Germany.
That’s the beauty of living thousand of kilometers away from your childhood home. You are forced to make the things you miss on your own and in this day and age of supermarket, indefinite shelf-life, E-numbers, genetically modified food stuffs, it will taste much better than what you can buy in a supermarket in your home country.
As a mummy I should loathe them, reprimand my nine year old son the second they come out of his mouth and put a stern face on. I mean swear words of course.
But I am a lazy mummy, and if you ask me if it’s a shitty day, there is no better adjective to describe it.
Of course you have to teach your kid that swear words are to be used like most spices… sparingly. They should never be used during job interviews, oral university examinations, or other situations where you have to appear properer than you really are. And if you ask me to call someone an asshole, especially to his face, says more about you than him.
I admit that little man learned to say shit in two languages (Scheiße in German, if you must know) at the tender age of two and probably from listening to me. German swear words tend to be “anal orientated” as one Anglo-saxon author of German habits put it. If a German calls you an “Arschloch” chances are he or she doesn’t like you.
From my own observation Anglo-saxon swear words tend to be sexually orientated. “F..beep” is a prime example. To a Teutonic like me fucking is very enjoyable, shit on the other hand smells badly, but listening to beeps on TV while you mouth-read every word of it is probably strangely satisfying to all of us.
A while ago little man came home and told me that is school mate J. is “gay”. Gosh I thought, J. is only eight years old the chances that he is gay before puberty are pretty slim, so I asked little man if he actually knew what gay means. He told me that gay means acting like a girl.
Well, that’s close but not really what it means, and not wanting to play tag on a boiling hot day is rather smart not gay if you ask me. Sometimes being a parent is quite complicated, because you have to decide in a snap what to say to steer your offspring to the right direction.
I told him that J. was right to go inside.
When he is a little older I will tell him that being gay is ok, and chances are that he will know that by himself by then, because in the end parents are the most crucial influences kids have.
Beeps on TV are useless if you ask me, and not letting your kids watch youtube videos is useless as well. They will hear it on the school bus anyway. On the other hand talking about it is very useful. Youtube videos in which people say fuck in every sentence are not bandwidth-friendly. My son knows this. They could be much shorter and to the point.
Teaching your kids what is appropriate by example and what will diminish their own worth is probably the most fucking awesome sweet thing you can do for them, not gay at all, nor sick.
Male: Hello!
Hello, I am Dominik.
And what’s your name?
Female: I am Jacqueline.
Male: Oh, that’s a beautiful name, oh, such a beautiful name!
And what are you studying?
Female: Biochemistry.
Male: Oh, that’s fascinating, how fascinating, fascinating, fascinating. Well, I am studying social… that’s also totally… well… boring.
And, you want to fuck me?
Female: Pardon?
Male: You want to fuck me?
Female: Yes, of course.
Male: Well fine, are we going to my place or yours?
Female: Don’t know.
Male: Well, don’t know either. Perhaps we could… or rather… or rather…no, don’t know.
He asking the audience:
Do you actually understand French?
Seriously, if nobody understands, we better stop.
She:
What are you doing?
He:
They don’t understand.
She:
And now?
He:
We could start from the beginning and I translate simultaneously into German. Would that be ok? Yes, that’s how we do it.
She in French, he translating into German:
I have tried for so long
to start a relationship with you.
But you don’t see me.
You have been always indifferent
since we met for the first time.
Why?
He:
Why so, wherefore, why?
Please tell me the reasons!
She in French, he translating into German:
Why don’t you realize what I feel for you?
[long glance to him]
I look into your eyes,
my God, they imprison me,
but they are blind and therefore cannot free me.
He:
God, what kitsch!
She in French, he translating into German:
Even so, I love you.
We are destined for each other.
He:
Oh God, what do I have to translate?
She:
At night, I dream that I kiss you.
He, pretending to translate:
The weather could be better.
She:
No, you always react like that.
How can I show you my feelings?
He:
Listen to me! We don’t fit together.
She:
Even so, I love you.
He:
I live in Schwartau and you in Paris.
She:
Even so, I love you.
He:
That’s very far apart, it would never work.
She:
Even so, I love you.
He:
And we don’t speak the same language.
She:
Believe me, I understand more than you think.
You don’t give me any chance.
I have neglected my statcounter reports ever since the swell of people searching for “underwater sex” and “boobs underwater” became overwhelming. Never underestimate what one post can do for your google rankings! But last week, I had a look again, and – I admit it – a good chuckle or two. Some of these search terms call out for a response.
“smelly sock lovers” – Eeeeeeeeeew!
“what is tea flavoring, rats” – They put rats in tea? Double Eeeeeeeeeeeeew!
“i am underwater” – Good for you!
“what do you call it if you are stuck underwater and you cant breathe” – Not so good for you. I would call it a dicey situation at best, and drowning at worst.
“kien hair stylist” – Kien seems to be a jack of all trades.
“What are a dirndel?” – A dirndl is a traditional dress worn in Bavaria and Austria on special occasions, for example the Munich Oktoberfest. That’s when one million Germans and two million Americans sit in giant tents, drink too much beer, and try to yodel.
In the north of Germany (where I come from, can you tell?), wearing a dirndl draws the same attention as wearing a Trekkie costume.
Dirndls worn in Bavaria are OK, I suppose, but what I don’t understand at all is the southern custom of drinking beer out of gallon-sized glasses. Bäääh! The beer gets stale and warm. Southern barbarians …
“how to ask for condom german hast” – Always glad to help :). It depends on the situation. If you are in bed with someone, who you know intimately, use the informal du: “Hast du einen Kondom?” (Do you have a condom?)
However, if you are in a shop asking a shop assistant, it’s better to use the formal sie: “Haben sie Kondome?” (Do you have condoms?) or “Wo finde ich Kondome?” (Where do I find condoms?).
Which reminds me of an AIDS-awareness-spot that was shown on German TV twenty years ago, and is now considered a classic :) … “Tina, how much are the condoms?”
“swedish word for from small hole” – Sorry, you are on your own with that one. I am only proficient in IKEA furniture names.
“cosima underwater” – You are at the right place :). Welcome!
“cosima lingerie” – I should have applied for a trademark.
“tall woman, little guys” – It happens. Don’t let it stop you from finding the love of your life. I know several couples who breach the conventions in that respect. They seem to be as happy (or unhappy) as couples who conform to the norm. I am 5′ 7 1/2” myself. Nicole Kidman (below) is 5’10 1/2″. To read the funny side of it go here.
“strong tall woman kills men “ – Gosh… there is the next Oscar winning performance for Nicole Kidman.
“japan clothed underwater sex” – The Japanese always seem to add an extra kinky twist to things and are very specialized in there preferences, don’t you think?
“minnie mouse underwater” – I hope this isn’t sexual. Here you go:
Last year for Christmas, I posted one of my favorite German Christmas poems, and this year I wanted to continue the tradition. I started to translate “Knecht Ruprecht” (Servant Ruprecht) by Theodor Storm. To understand the poem, you have to know a little bit about German Christmas traditions, which differ from region to region, and have changed quite a bit over time. “Knecht Ruprecht” is not Santa Claus. He has pagan origins, and when Christianity came to Germany, he was made the helper of Saint Nicholas. While Saint Nicholas gave presents to the good children, Knecht Ruprecht gave bad children a whipping with his rod.
After the reformation, Martin Luther wanted to stop the worship of saints and encouraged the tradition of giving presents to children on Christmas Eve instead of Saint Nicholas Day on the 6th of December. Instead of Saint Nicholas, the “Holy Christ” brought presents for children. Over the years, the abstract “Holy Christ” became the angelic, golden-robed “Christkind” (Christ Child). The Christkind and her helper Knecht Ruprecht made the rounds on Christmas Eve, and brought presents to children.
Somewhat ironically, the Christkind was slowly replaced by the “Weihnachtsmann” (Father Christmas) in Germany’s Protestant North, while the Catholic South continues Martin Luther’s tradition of the Christkind to this day.
Theodor Storm, who wrote “Knecht Ruprecht”, lived in the North of Germany in the nineteenth century. His poem mentions the Christkind and her helper Knecht Ruprecht, who gives whippings as well as presents. No mentioning of Saint Nicholas… he had already emigrated to the US, changed his name to Santa Claus, and taken over the North American Christmas franchise ;).
Knecht Ruprecht
These days, the poem is recited by Weihnachtsmänner/Knecht Ruprechts all over Germany as they enter the homes of little children on Christmas Eve. My uncle (even-numbered years) and my father (odd-numbered years) used to recite it as well. After Weihnachtsmann had made his entrance, he asked my cousin and me whether we had been good, which we always affirmed even if we had been rather naughty…lol. Then he asked us to recite a Christmas poem. Afterwards, Weihnachtsmann opened his large sack and gave us our presents.
To speed up the translation of the poem, I pasted it into Babel Fish, and the result is so funny that I couldn’t stop myself from posting it…
Farmhand Ruprecht
Of drauss of the forest come ‘ I;
I must say you, it weihnachtet very much!
All everywhere on the fir points
I saw golden light flax sitting;
And up there from the sky gate
The Christian child saw out, with large eyes
And as I strolcht in such a way ‘ by finstern the Tann,
There rief’s me with bright voice on:
“farmhand Ruprecht”, called it, “older associates,
Lift the legs and spute you fast!
The candles begin to burn,
The sky gate is opened,
Old ‘ and boy are now
Of the hunt of the life ruhn;
And tomorrow fly ‘ I down there to ground connection,
Because it is to become again Christmas!”
I spoke: “O dear Herre Christian,
My journey nearly to end is;
I am only into this city,
Wo’s vainly good children has.” -
“haste the Saecklein also with you?”
I spoke: “the Saecklein, that is here;
Because apples, nut and almond core
Meal pious children gladly.” -
“haste the rod also with you?”
I spoke: “the rod, those is here;
But for the children only, the bad,
Those meets it the part, the right.”
Christian child flax spoke: “like that it is quite;
Thus go with God, my faithful farmhand!”
Of drauss of the forest come ‘ I;
I must say you, it weihnachtet very much!
Now speaks, how ich’s here inside find ‘!
Sind’s good child, sind’s bad child?
Knecht Ruprecht
Von drauß vom Walde komm’ ich her;
Ich muss euch sagen, es weihnachtet sehr!
Allüberall auf den Tannenspitzen
Sah ich goldene Lichtlein sitzen;
Und droben aus dem Himmelstor
Sah mit großen Augen das Christkind hervor,
Und wie ich so strolcht’ durch den finstern Tann,
Da rief’s mich mit heller Stimme an:
“Knecht Ruprecht”, rief es, “alter Gesell,
Hebe die Beine und spute dich schnell!
Die Kerzen fangen zu brennen an,
Das Himmelstor ist aufgetan,
Alt’ und Junge sollen nun
Von der Jagd des Lebens ruhn;
Und morgen flieg’ ich hinab zur Erden,
Denn es soll wieder Weihnachten werden!”
Ich sprach: “O lieber Herre Christ,
Meine Reise fast zu Ende ist;
Ich soll nur noch in diese Stadt,
Wo’s eitel gute Kinder hat.” -
“Hast denn das Säcklein auch bei dir?”
Ich sprach: “Das Säcklein, das ist hier;
Denn Äpfel, Nuss und Mandelkern
Essen fromme Kinder gern.” -
“Hast denn die Rute auch bei dir?”
Ich sprach: “Die Rute, die ist hier;
Doch für die Kinder nur, die schlechten,
Die trifft sie auf den Teil, den rechten.”
Christkindlein sprach: “So ist es recht;
So geh mit Gott, mein treuer Knecht!”
Von drauß vom Walde komm’ ich her;
Ich muß euch sagen, es weihnachtet sehr!
Nun sprecht, wie ich’s hierinnen find’!
Sind’s gute Kind, sind’s böse Kind?
by Theodor Storm (1817-1888)
I hope you have been good this year… ;)
either way, I wish you a
Little man and I have read Mondays at Monster School about 101 times, The Tickle Book close to 99 times, and the classic The Very Hungry Caterpillar exactly 100 times. All of them are fantastic. How can you not love a book in which little monster Fred is so nervous about his first day in school that he doesn’t want to eat his bug crispies, but overcomes his fear and has his first lesson in howling and growling, and listens to a story about a yucky prince and a nice monster? But I thought it’s time to introduce little man to something new…
It’s a poem every child in Germany knows and loves. There are several versions told, some longer, some shorter, but my dad told me this one.
It was dark, the moon shone brightly,
snow lay on green ground,
when a car, fast as lightning,
rounded slowly ‘round a bend.
Within standing people sat,
silently lost in discussion,
when a hare, shot to death,
skated on a sandbank.
And on a green bench,
which was painted red,
sat a blond-curled youth
with hair black as sooth.
In his arms an old woman,
not yet sixteen years of age,
in her hand a butter sandwich,
which was spread with lard.
All around deep silence reigned,
and with terrible noise,
play in grass’s branches
two camels silently chess.
And two fishes walked merrily
through the blue cornfield.
Finally, the sun went down
and the grey day appeared.
This poem by Goethe
wrote Schiller at night during dawn,
when he sat on his chamber pot,
reading the newspaper.
Direct in front of our building a little lake has formed, to call it a puddle would be an understatement. The rainwater drainage ditches are filled with water rushing down the hills. And it’s so dark outside that we have turned on the lights throughout the flat after waking up this morning. The rain started a few days ago, and with the exception of a few short breaks hasn’t stopped since. The Hong Kong summer isn’t called wet season for nothing.
The frogs love it though. They sit in pipes and ditches, and in the evening they croak their little hearts out. But they don’t really croak or ribit like English-speaking frogs. They don’t quak either… that’s what German frogs do. Most frogs around here are Buddhist frogs, they “ohm”. A few of them pretend to be German dogs and say “wau wau”.
Which started me thinking about animal sounds in different languages. While some words for animal sounds are similar around the globe, others, curiously enough, are quite different. And normally these things are not written down in your average dictionary.
I found this fun forum entry, where people discuss words for animal sounds in their respective language. Did you know that Romanian pigs say “groh-groh” and Japanese cats “nyaanyaa”? … me neither.
So in the spirit of my earlier attempts to introduce you to the wackier side of the German language, here is a list of animal sounds in German:
bee – Biene: summ summ (summen, which also means to hum)
German and English are very similar languages, being of the same Indogermanic origin and using many Latin and French words. However, there are some fine differences, which students of both languages have to keep in mind.
The act of love
While fuck is a very erotic and versatile word, the direct translation into German ficken is not. It is not erotic, because when spoken it sounds…ridiculous. It’s amazing what one different vowel can do. So in German it is mostly used in a derogatory way, e.g. Fick dich selber! (Go fuck yourself!). Your answer should then be: Ja, gerne. Besser als mit Dir! (Yes, with pleasure. Better than to do it with you!)
This bears the question which word you should use, if you ever have to translate a steamy tale in which people do not make slow love but have a passionate fuck. The answer is, I don’t know. In German you would have to go into the details pretty quickly.
However, when you want to ask an attractive person if she/he wants to…it’s best to use schlafen (to sleep).
Sie/She: Ich mag dich sehr gerne. (I like you very much)
Er/He: Würdest du gerne mit mir schlafen? (Would you like to sleep with me?)
Sie/She: Nicht so schnell…ok, bei dir oder mir? (Not so fast…ok, at your place or mine?)
There are all kinds of preservatives
In German a condom is called among other things Präservativ. So when you want to buy strawberry preservative in a German shop, do not ask for Erdbeer-Präservativ but for Erdbeermarmelade. Although I bet you can find some use for the first item as well.
English words are hip in Germany and some drive Cosima crazy
Should you ever visit Germany, you will undoubtedly notice the myriads of English words used in advertising. Unlike the French, we are pretty relaxed about it, but somehow I think that shops actually loose more customers than they gain.
Cosima’s mom: Was bedeutet…Zaala ? (What does Zaala mean?)
Cosima: Sonderangebot. (Sale)
Cosima’s mom: Wirklich? Hätt ich das nur früher gewußt. (Really? I wish I had known that earlier.)
A pseudo-English word that also rubs me the wrong way is Handy, the German (lol) word for mobile phone. I would not complain at all, if we used the correct English word. Handy was probably introduced by ad-agency guys, who were paid five million bucks bei Deutsche Telekom. I refuse to say it. I mostly use Mobiltelefon (speak: mobeeltalafon), but find the Italian word Telefonino (little telephone) even nicer. I am going to use it from know on. Maybe it becomes a trend.
