This morning I rolled into the
local Lidl (an Aldi-esque) grocery store with a short list ::
• Dishwasher tabs
• Brussel sprouts
• bread
• paper towels.
I knew that I would, as I always
do, add extra items to the cart I had dutifully unhooked from the chain of
carts with a 2€ coin. Sometimes the additions are because I forgot to add
something to my list, but more often it's because I could never anticipate in
advance my options. Germany is so much better about rolling out fruits and
vegetables in concert with the season. Even the meat departments change as
grill friendly skewers are replaced with stew meats, goose and sauerbraten. I
find the rotating selection and surprise encounters to be both exciting and a
fun culinary challenge.
My first stop was the bakery
section, where after nudging a rustic loaf of bread out from its glass case
with a giant spoon like tool, I carefully transferred it to the bread slicing
machine. I diligently followed the four basic steps:
1.) place loaf inside
machine
2.) close the lid
3.) select slice width (I usually
opt for 10 mm)
4.) remove loaf after
slicing
Step #4 is the hardest ... and
really ... after the serious approach to steps 1-4 they kind of leave you
hanging. The expectation is that you then transfer your sliced loaf to a little
metal tray arm and then slide a plastic bag around the slices and with luck
have the loaf maintain its shape as you insert it in the bag. I have about a
50% success rate. This morning the still warm bread did not end up loaf shaped
in the plastic bag. I did an internal Monday morning shrug, and for good
measure batted at the bag to twist the top before tying it off sit-com dad
style. Obviously, whoever coined the phrase "the coolest thing since
sliced bread" never had to endure the disdainful look of German shoppers
watching a bread slicing machine fail. "Cool" was not the first word
that popped into my mind.
Never the less, my heart was
significantly lightened as I made my way to produce, where I grabbed two
overpriced, and giant carbon foot printed avocados. (The Littles have developed
a taste for the millennial favorite avocado toast!) In the same section I
found, for a reasonable price, a fresh coconut, bio (organic) cress,
persimmons, artichokes (along with the brussels I had come for!)
My shop continued like
this.
By the time I reached the check
out I had the most unlikely assortment of items in my cart ... men's underwater
(the "middle section" is promo-ing organic cotton this week) and a
variety of items to assemble a beautiful cheese and charcuterie board. (The
diverse cheese selection included Italian Toma, English Vintage cheddar and
Herder's cheese from the Alps.) Sweets included chocolate for the fondue pot,
boozy grappa filled truffles and Ruby Port. In the frozen section I picked up
Kangaroo streaks, crayfishy looking giant red prawns and wild venison burgers.
On a whim I grabbed a Cava vinegar and was delighted to find grated truffle
(the fungal variety) both of which which will surely prompt a Pinterest
search.
With all the excitement, I did
remember the paper towels! And, of course mundane items :: eggs (laid locally),
bananas and milk ...
This wasn't my average shop. The
extra, special items are available in the run up to Christmas when the locals
seem to forget that in general they are a meat and potatoes kind of crowd.
The superfluous purchases are a fun punctuation of our host culture's
favorite time of year. Germany's classy approach to Christmas extends even to
its budget groceries.
(I walked out with that
amalgamation for just €140 ... including the last minute knee brace I threw in
for our soccer star to try.)
