Tag: Travel

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Lübeck (III)—Marzipan

This entry is part 3 of 3 in the series Lübeck

Many Americans might not be familiar with the historical and cultural heritage of Lübeck but still recognize its name—from its famous marzipan, to be exact. Lübecker Marzipan, similar to balsamic vinegar of Modena and prosciutto of Parma, is protected by law. The productional quality is highly controlled. Among all the manufactures, Niederegger is most celebrated with its 100% almond paste sweets.[1] The texture of classical Niederegger Marzipan is light. While the candy melts in one’s mouth, the rich fruity taste lingers.

Due to the time constraint, I did not get to visit the Niederegger store. However, with Easter approaching, colorfully decorated candies could be seen from the street. They brought a sense of joy and celebration to the Old Town surroundings. And, of course, I brought marzipan home with me.

I was introduced to marzipan in the States. Its texture and taste instantly reminded me of Taiwanese mung bean cake.[2] Almonds have high oil content. With the help of some egg white, almond flour can become shapeable paste easily. Mung beans need to be steamed, ground and mixed with sesame or vegetable oil[3] before shaping into paste. The paste will be green if whole beans are used; pale yellow if skins are removed. Some cakes have red-bean-paste filling. Beautifully carved molds will be used to press out the cakes. These cakes used to be eaten on Dragon Boat Festival. Nowadays, they are readily available at pastry shops.

Marzipan are often shaped into fruits and animal figures.[4] Their lively forms and bright colors always bring me right back to the street corner of my childhood, where vendors carefully crafted dough figurines.[5] These little figures—often characters of traditional theater—made of flour or glutinous rice dough, were only a few inches long. But no details would be left out. I would stand mesmerized watching the vendors shaping each little part under their fingers and attaching them together one by one. The intense colors of the dough seemed to make the figurines bigger than life. Standing on top of bamboo sticks, they were alluring to any child both as candies and as toys. In theory, these figurines are edible things. I, out of curiosity, had put my tongue on them once or twice. MY verdict was that they were not meant to be eaten. I remembered tasting more of the food coloring than the sweet dough.

In Niederegger Marzipan Museum, there are life-size marzipan sculptures of historical figures and a miniature of the Old Town with the seven spires[6] It seems that using candies as story-telling medium is a universal practice. And, they are irresistible to adults and children alike.

[1] Lübeck_Marzipan_Wiki
[2] Images of Taiwanese mung bean cakes
[3]Some modern recipes use butter instead.
[4] Thai mung bean cakes are formed and colored in a similar way: Images of Thai mung bean desserts.
[5] Images of Chinese dough figurines
[6]Niederegger marzipan museum: Official site.
Images of Marzipan Museum: Niederegger Lübeck.

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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