All That Jazz

Not too long ago, I remember joyfully declaring that Summer had come to Berlin. Well, that was a lie. Or I should say that I was lied to. It was one big tease. Three weeks of gorgeous weather in May dissolved into two weeks of protracted winter, followed by days of spring, summer, and fall. You never know what you will get in this city, weather or otherwise.



But it doesn't hamper the summertime festivities. The show must go on and all. that. jahhhh-azzzz.


Continuing to prove itself as the coolest neighborhood in Berlin, Kreuzberg is having another festival this weekend showcasing local jazz artists and since we had such a great time at the Culture Carnival in May we were looking forward to seeing the hood at its best. The weather was shoddy but it cut down on the crowds so we were able to take our time walking past the booths and listening to all of the great music. Plus, we love any excuse to spend time with our friends.


The fun thing about living overseas is that you feel compelled to experience as much of life as possible knowing that in a short while you will be some place else. I was reminded of that this weekend. We have done so many really cool things this year that we would never have done in the states simply because we would have assumed that we would have plenty of time to do it. Now we find ourselves willing to try anything once just to say we did and I can't think of one thing that we later regretted. It's a great way to live and I know that being here is giving us all of the tools we need to live in the moment anywhere in the world. And that, in itself, is pretty awesome.

Not so fast, You!

It's clear that Ramsey has no intention of giving up her position in the household to make way for this new addition. This noisy thing that has aims to joust her from the throne. This spawnling, no bigger than an ear of corn, that aspires to take the place that she has worked so hard to carve out. This parasite that's making moves to block her 'round the clock access to the royal courtiers in waiting.


What better way to demonstrate superiority than to put her mark on everything "baby?" (You see, that's what THEY call it: the baby.) No matter what barriers are erected she must and she will find a way to retain her rightful position. They thought that by moving the clothes and covering them with blankets she would be deterred but clearly they underestimate her abilities. It's going to take more than some flimsy fabric to discourage this status climber, mister.

Just wait: she's got more tricks up her sleeves. The battle has only just begun. Next on the agenda: operation stealth attack. If you can't beat 'em, dress like 'em.


Disclaimer: No owner was permanently scarred in the taking of this picture.

Girl vs. Yeast, Part I

I've been really looking forward to getting my newest cookbook, "How to Cook
Everything," by Mark Bittman.

I'd been eyeing it for a while and after tasting the delectably incredible bagels from the same cookbook I decided to finally bite the bullet and order one.

This morning, like manna from heaven, it came.

First on the agenda were the cinnamon rolls. They'd been on my mine for months--ever since we conquered bagels, in fact. Something about making those bagels changed things for me. Part of my fear concerned yeast. We've never gotten along. Without a thermometer, I could never tell how warm "warm" is and hardly ever got the dough to proof either because I scalded the yeast or understimulated it. My other issue with yeast recipes is that they usually require more patience and precision than I am inclined to put forth. You see, although I love to bake, I am a very lazy baker. Not enough flour? No problem, just adjust the ingredients a pinch here or there. No oil? Fine, we'll just use butter. Oh wait, there's also not enough butter. I wonder what butter and olive oil would taste like. Ah, so that's why it specified butter. You get my drift. I'm an improviser and once I'm into a recipe--even if I don't have the exact ingredients called for--I'll soldier on, only to regret it when the recipe fails.

Anyway, I digress. The bagels gave me confidence that with some focus I could conquer Norwegian Cinnamon rolls. But to say that I conquered them would be an overstatement. I prefer to focus on the fact that I finished them and that they at least resemble the picture in the cookbook. In spite of my instincts, I followed the recipe this time and didn't add warm water to the yeast so it never really doubled. Then, there was the minor issue of coming up just a little short on flour so I had to take some of the flour, yeast, salt mixture out of the bowl to use on the counter for kneading the dough which created a grainy boule. Lastly, having given up at this point that the rolls wouldn't be perfect, I only added 2/3 amount of the cinnamon sugar because it looked like too much only to realize after they cooked that they weren't quite sweet enough.

Saying all of that, they are edible and will do for now. A bit too cakey and not enough yeasty, doughy softness. I was able to muster the strength to shovel down two in one sitting, though. You know, for the good of the order.

What I'm learning is that a recipe rarely works the first time and that to really enjoy its biproduct you have to make it over and over again until it is perfected to your taste. I will definitely deviate from the instructions next time, albeit with the proper amount of flour on hand and at least the amount of sugar and cinnamon that's called for! Ha.


Next on the agenda: Baked Alaska!

Father Load

J just got back from Atlanta carrying 180 lbs worth of supplies for the baby and his parents. The guy at the airline counter said that they were the second heaviest bags he had seen checked in
since he began working there.


I was prepared for what was to come because I spent the better part of three days registering for things online that he could stuff into his suitcase. The criteria being only that it could be stuffed, knowing that just about anything these days is cheaper in the States. He bought long and short sleeved onesies, sleepers, gro-bags, bibs, hats, fitted sheets, and just about everything else I could justify buying now. My kid will be outfitted from birth to 9 months old.


He also went on a shopping binge of his own at Walmart where he dropped just short of a mortgage on cosmetics and hygiene products. This includes 5 bottles of lotion, 6 bottles of toothpaste, 12 bars of soap, 12 containers of Clarins face wash, 4-32 oz. bags of chocolate chips, 6 bags of light brown sugar, 20 boxes of instant oatmeal, and the jug of life of Helmann's mayo for Frances.


What is most remarkable of all is that he made it back unscathed. I was biting my nails trying to decide if I would be more disappointed if they confiscated the loot at the airport or charged us a ransom in fees for bringing so much over but it was unnecessary. We definitely dodged a bullet on this one. And what a sweet, sweet one to dodge at that.


Cliches are what they are but sometimes you really can buy happiness--even if it is fleeting.

Sailing the Spree

Our friends, Ben and Sandra, had the fabulous idea that we should take advantage of all there is to see in our city and act like tourists this weekend. So they organized a boat tour on the Spree River on Saturday. We got great seats together and set off for a 4 hour tour.

It was one of those idealic summer days where there were few clouds to be seen, blue skies, and a pleasant breeze. Who knew that Berlin had more bridges than Venice and Amsterdam? One thousand, in sum total, scattered throughout the city.

It was the perfect day. I got overheated; John drank too much; the gruff German tour guide screamed at us for standing up whilst coming towards a low hanging bridge; and the rows of Germans sitting in front and behind us changed seats because the noisy Americans were talking too much. A great time was had by all!

Well Bred

My kids,though literally born in barns, have remarkably good manners.










Sure, one prefers to greet strangers by sniffing their nether regions rather than offering a proper hand shake. And yes, it's true that the other thinks the purest water comes out of the toilet but they really are rather well bred. Besides negotiating who gets to eat where, they have already learned how to wait patiently for their turn. No rush, really. Take your time. I can wait.









And how to share. They have no qualms, whatsoever, in sharing the bounty. We have a strict "Eat it now, ask for forgiveness later" policy in this household. Thank. you. very. much.