Frankfurt Food

So, food in Frankfurt. There are sausages everywhere, of course. Breakfast sausages. Lunchtime sausages. 'Quick! I need a sausage!' sausages. There are sausage-sellers roaming the streets and everywhere you look, at any time of day, someone is tucking into one. There's lots of processed meats around, too. I'm not quite sure how these differ to sausages, other than they are more, well, floppy-looking. Some are pink, but mostly they are a dead-ish beige. I saw some in the local supermarket where some pink processed meat bits had been inserted into beige circles to make a processed meat-face. Friendly and fun.

Frankfurt is known for a couple of culinary traditions. One is a green sauce (that's grun soss in German, but with dots and that funny letter that looks like a B but is actually a double s). Green sauce is made, I think, from cream (or possibly yoghurt?) and the green-ness comes from various green herbs that are added during the cooking process. The locals seem to have green sauce with everything - salad, crackers, on schnitzels. With sausages, of course. It looks like it'd make a nice smoothie, too. It's actually very tasty. Even Maddles liked it. Here is a photo of her dinner the night we first had it. The green sauce is hard to see in the green container, but believe me, it's a very pretty colour and Maddls enjoyed dipping everything into it:



Our upstairs neighbour is going to give us a lesson in how to make it. Or maybe I've just decided that she is. I can't quite remember.

The local drink is apple wine, which everyone tells us is NOT cider. But it tastes like cider. Just a bit flatter. But don't tell the Frankfurters I told you that.

And finally, there's sweet stuff, which Germany does very well. All the supermarkets sell chocolate covered with labels proclaiming the stuff to be bio-dynamic and fairtrade and 70 percent cocoa etc so you actually feel a bit guilty if you leave the shop without a block or two. Like you'd be letting down your family and the planet.

For those less concerned with purity, there is a vast array of delights too. Thieu returned from the supermarket the other day with these:



They are chocolate on the outside, marshmallow inside. And they are huge. 'There were mini dickmanns,' explained Thieu, a little sheepishly. 'But I couldn't bring myself to buy those.'