Tag: Foods

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Lübeck (II)—A green carpet of fragrance

This entry is part 2 of 3 in the series Lübeck

Writing about Marienkirche, brought back memories of my trip to Lübeck.  I loved the visitor-friendly Old Town; the beautiful opera theater; the wide-stretched beach; the quaint old neighborhood built for wealthy merchants; and the greenery alongside the river banks.

Germans, like most Europeans, take long breaks after lunch. Instead of napping, they love to take long—very long—walks. This beloved tradition has been a frequent subject of poetry and music—which deserve a separate discussion. I visited Lübeck in early March. Winter had not relinquished its dominance over the land entirely. Yet, the weather was calm enough for casual walks. With the baby in the stroller and Lena, the Bearded Collie, holding her own leash in the mouth, our little parade went through the quiet neighborhood, toward the canal.

The path along the bank was quiet; the air was a little damp; scattering sunlight peeked through the treetops where new leaves started to grow. Underneath them, there was a light green carpet of small leafy plants. I thought that they were lily-of-the-valley. Looking a little closer, their leaves are longer in shape and they have slim white stem. When broken, they released a garlicky scent, not too sharp but plenty invigorating. Say hello to Bärlauch (translated directly as bear leek).[1]

In early spring, the ground was turned by young plants poking their heads out toward the sun. The old leaves from the season before were still decomposing. The musty smell of the forest blending with the scent of Bärlauch created a unique fragrance, refreshing and comforting. And, it was the smell of spring for many Germans [2]

Bärlauch pesto is a common ingredient in Germany kitchen, used as a condiment and in cooking. Here, in the States, we can find its cousin ramp[3] occasionally in greenmarkets and specialty stores. Unfortunately, they are hard to come by and, therefore, costly. Whenever I see tiny bunches of ramps at the stores, I think about the walk long ago. Next time, I will linger a while longer and allow myself to be surrounded by the beautiful scenery and the essence of spring.

[1] Bärlauch_Wiki
[2] Wild garlic in the forests.
[3] Ramps_Wiki

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My cup of tea

On my first flight to the States, the hot beverage for coach class on Northwest fleet was a mixture of tea AND coffee. The taste of this “special” brew was hard to describe. I am glad that it is gradually fading away from my memory. In those days, tea making and drinking in America involved Lipton tea bags, hot water and a mug. Loose-leaf tea was not commonly available. Hardly would anyone ask: “What kind of tea would you like?” Most people’s knowledge of Chinese tea was limited to the low-grade jasmine tea at Chinese restaurants where chop-suey was the top seller.

One of the first thing my family did every morning was to make tea. Like many Chinese tea drinkers, dad preferred green tea to black tea (or 紅茶—red tea). He felt that the natural sweetness of tea was lost during the oxidation process. Even the popular, semi-oxidized 烏龍 Oolong (literally black dragon) did not garner his approval.

Mom has a different kind of appreciation for tea. She used to accompany her grandma to pick tea leaves during summer months. She recalls often the labor-intensive work and all the details that involved.[1] She recalls the simple meals and lodging offered to the workers. Occasionally, for fun, mom would point out how some leaves/stems floated on top—like a fortuneteller reading leaves. We never took it seriously.

I brought some tea with me to the States, but the supply didn’t last long. Soon I found myself searching for something that didn’t need the help of lemon, milk or sugar; something that still had some taste after the first brew. I kept an open mind and started trying everything that I could find at grocery stores. It didn’t take long for me to find Earl Grey. Growing up with green tea, finding any kind of black tea agreeable was a very surprising experience to me.

With a little bit of research, I realized that it was the addition of bergamot oil that attracted me. Chinese people believe in the medicinal value of orange peel tea. When oranges were in season, my parents would clean and dry orange peels around the stove. Even though I found the taste of orange peel tea peculiar at first, I learned to love it. And, I always associate the perfume of dried orange peels to the warmth of a burning stove in winter time.

As tea-drinking becomes a trendy thing, there is a wide-range of varieties on the market. I enjoy tasting 龍井 (Longjing or literally dragon well) and good-quality Oolong. On a cold day, I find comfort in 玄米 (Genmaicha, Japanese green tea with roasted brown rice). I also like to refresh my palate with herbal and floral fusions. Yet, I don’t consider them “tea,” since they didn’t come from tea shrubs.

What’s your favorite tea?

[1] In Taiwan, low-growing tea plants are cultivated in mountainy areas. One often need to bend down while picking tea leaves. Seasonal labors commonly work long hours during harvest time. For good quality tea productions, only the new growth on the tip of the branches— “一心二葉” (one tip and two leaves)—should be picked. In recent decades, usage of harvesting machines has become more and more popular. While it increases productivity, it makes the quality less even.