So far behind…

The past couple of months have been a drag, which you may have suspected after my account of our trip to Germany in December broke off mid-trip. For that I can only say that the wifi in the Motel One chain is weird and unreliable, and it was cold.

Then the holidays, and more cold, and so much crap being sprayed about by whatever fan we as a society have been cursed with that I couldn’t see sinking myself even further into nonaction (and not the good kind) by ranting about it here, plus all kinds of paralysis over on my Lichtenbergian blog due to the impending possibility of a world premiere for William Blake’s Inn, and soon you’re talking about real stagnation here.

So I am now going to raise myself out of my torpor by talking about an amusing kind of failure, a backlog of cocktails.

Some background: I subscribe to several emails from websites like liquor.com and diffordsguide.com which send me recipes nearly every day. I’ll go and look them over, and if I think one might appeal to me, I copy the recipe into a word processing document that is always open on my desktop. When the page is full, I print it out and start experimenting.

That’s the theory. The reality? See this photo?

On the right, my bar book. On the left, twenty-one pages of cocktails that have built up over the past year or so. Either I don’t get around to making them, or I’ve run out of a key ingredient or there’s some syrup or tincture you have to make first… You get the idea.

How bad is it?

On those twenty-one pages there are 189 cocktails.

Of those 189 cocktails, I have approved 26 of them and eliminated 14, i.e., I have tried 40. That means that I have made only 21% of the cocktails that I claimed to be interested in.

I hereby commit to doing better.

Germany 2023: Day 5 & 6 probably

Yesterday in Munich, in the block where we ate lunch at a very good burger place, there was a movie theatre. This is what was scheduled for Sunday night:

The silent era masterpiece Metropolis with a live orchestra? Yes, please. My only consolation was that it was no doubt canceled because of the snow. Everything was canceled because of the snow that everyone seems to think is so pretty.

Otherwise, there would have been plenty to do in Munich of an evening besides wander the stalls of the Weihnachtsmarkt and sip glühwein. One theatre had a production of Cenerentola, for example, Rossini’s version of Cinderella and one of my favorites.

So when we last left our intrepid band, the cliffhanger was whether they would be able to escape Munich and make it to Stuttgart, the next stop on the tour. In a sequence worthy of Planes, Trains, and Automobiles they made it: four cabs to the bus station, and a 2-hour+ bus ride to Stuttgart (plus a subway ride to the main train station and a walk to the hotel).

Around Munich the snow was still thick:

 

But by the time we got to Stuttgart, there was no snow on the ground, Gott sei dank!

After a short break, we headed out to the Christmas market. I will state for the record that Stuttgart’s market is to be preferred over Munich’s. It seems more relaxed with a much broader selection of wares than Munich’s. I can state this with confidence because we immediately bought a bunch of stuff, which was not the case in Munich.

Here, have some photos:

Yes, that is a children’s Ferris wheel, with seats that look like Christmas tree ornaments.

We ate at the Alte Kanzlei, a well-regarded restaurant featuring Schwabian cuisine. It was very tasty. On the wall, one of my favorite glitches in the Matrix: the random use of English in another language:

Bottom line: Oldtimerturen durch Stuttgars Weinberge.

We explored the Market thoroughly, making some fun purchases because NEVER TOO MANY CHRISTMAS KENNETH, and then heading back to the hotel and its lovely gin bar.

How dedicated a gin bar is this bar? When I asked the bartender in this one if he could make a Manhattan, not only had he never heard of the drink, he had no idea what rye was. (They did have Bulleitt bourbon, so I used that to build on the young man’s knowledge base.)

WEDNESDAY

No real reporting for Wednesday, because I had a bit of an upset digestive system. Nothing Immodium couldn’t cure, but I realized it too late to take the meds and be settled in time to catch the train. I settled for a quiet day in Stuttgart while everyone else headed off for a charming day in Tübingen. (My Lovely First Wife found THE SHOES THAT CAN ONLY BE FOUND IN EUROPE KENNETH, so it was probably just as well that I was in the hotel reading Terry Pratchett.)

Have another glitch in the Matrix, a major one:

This is a sign on a store, one of several. The store builds wooden furniture and makes that fact its identity. But did you catch it? It’s a tree story. A freaking pun in English, and only in English. One’s head spins, it truly does.

Once everyone else was back, the two of us chose to go to Mauritius, a “beach bar,” where indeed all the cocktails are tiki cocktails in English: Zombie, Beachcomber, Sex on the Beach, etc. The food was good; we eschewed the fruity drinks.

Back to the parts of the Market we missed, including the great plaza with a light show:

The column in particular puts on a computer-sequenced show that’s delightful.

Very nice things at the section of the market we covered: antiques, quality goods, and this charming decoration:

The three discs turn, giving the illusion of skiers schussing down the mountain. Did we buy it? Not at all. But it was cute.

Germany 2023: Day 3, 4? Who the hell knows?

It’s been a right old time here in München, Deutschland. You may recall the general rejoicing over the SNOW, KENNETH, as we rode the train into Munich. Yeah, well, what you saw as picture-perfect Christmas-postcard delight, meteorologists saw as a 90-year record snowstorm, blanketing Germany in feet of snow and crippling transportation all across the nation.

But first, let me back up and tell you how our Saturday did not end in starvation but indeed turned out beautifully.

Our tour leader Jim texted us all that he had made reservations for an Italian restaurant nearby if anyone wanted to join, which we did. There were seven of us and we had a great time over drinks and dinner, getting to know each other and laughing. One of us, Debbie, misheard the waiter asking if “alles” wanted the tiramisu and thought he called her Alice, which is her name now I don’t make the rules.

(“Alice” also made an inadvertently — and hilarious — vulgar joke which I will not repeat here but which you definitely should ask me to repeat for you in person if you’re that kind of person. You know who you are.)

Alice went out for a smoke and returned to tell us excitedly that there was a carousel right down the street, plus one of the dozen Christmas markets that litter the city at this time of year.  Of course we headed out, only to find that she had scammed us: the carousel was kiddie-sized. But the market was real, and we had a blast wandering through it. It was much smaller and much more fun than the Marienplatz market downtown.

Finally we returned to the hotel and hit the bar.

You will recall that I had hit the hotel bar on Friday night and called it solid but basic. This was their bar book:

It listed all the whiskeys, rums, vodkas, etc., that they stocked, plus a handful of basic cocktails. But it didn’t list the gins, of which there seemed to be dozens. I thought that was odd.

On Saturday night, we headed back to the bar after that long day, where I discovered:

I was in a gin bar! This bible contained all the gins they stocked…

… including its type, its botanicals, where it’s made, and the recommended tonic water for a gin & tonic. And you see that half-page bit in the center? Those are regional gins. I suddenly didn’t mind that a) Munich does not seem to be blessed with solid craft cocktail bars; or b) that I might be trapped here for a while.

SUNDAY

We were supposed to go to Nüremberg on Sunday, but transportation across Bavaria was largely shut down. What trains were running were overbooked as Germans tried to get home from Munich. We had to cancel any of our plans, which included my visiting the Ayers gin distillery and buying more of one of the most delicious gins I’ve ever bought. Ugh.

I am omitting our visit to the Alte Peter church, because it triggered my inner Marxist and I’d like to keep this positive.

We went to the Residenz, the in-town palace of the ruling Wittelsbach family back in the day. It was largely destroyed in WWII, so most of what you see is a reconstruction.

The main courtyard as we waited to enter was blanketed in snow. I found this cherub delightful:

Yes, there is a cherub under there.

The first room was the Grotto, a fantasy of one of the Wittelsbachs.

A close-up of one of the ladies in the decor:

Yeah, the whole thing was pretty grotesque. Yes, the whole thing is encrusted with seashells.

The first main hall:

Here the Wittlesbachs gave full rein to their imperial fantasies, with busts of all the Roman emperors and their appendages.

Me with my friend Marcus Aurelius:

My friend Dionysus:

My friend Apollo:

These two were fairly nubile, but there were multiple athletes of one kind or another who were much tauter.

Here’s a terrazzo at the bottom of a very big staircase leading up to the Elector/Duke/Emperor’s private chambers. I really liked the geometry involved in graduating the sizes of the tiles to accommodate the arced design.

The palace as a whole is a rabbit warren of halls, antechambers, bedrooms. Each head honcho felt compelled to build his own suite of rooms, often adding entire buildings to do so. The only rooms open to the public are the glamorous ones, but of course we wondered where the accommodations for the servants were, where the kitchens were, dining halls, etc.

We noticed throughout this little dingus:

I thought perhaps it was some kind of drawer for the maids to keep brushes or something, but it’s simply a retro-fit for electrical outlets for today’s custodial staff.

The Residenz has some nice bits, but on the whole the Wittelsbachs were not Bourbons, and the Residenz is not Versailles.

We roamed the Marienplatz market again for a while, then the group set out to find sustenance. At some point, two of the company and we set out for a restaurant that one of us had highlighted in her book, i.e., highly rated. We set the phone to guide us, and trudged through the snow-still city only to find that the restaurant was closed because of the weather.

Just down the street though was another restaurant, a charming little cottage set in a courtyard, which was brightly lit and warm and closing as we walked in.

But they recommended Siggis, right next door, and it was open. It was also vegan, but the meal was delicious and we were content.

After that it was back to the hotel, a few more gin and tonics at the bar, and then bedtime.

MONDAY

Everything is still at a standstill. We slept late, then hit the road to explore another market. On the way were these cool sculptures, made even cooler by the snow:

Did you see it?

All the trees in this park had straw bales tied to their bases. Why? Because kids were sledding there; these cushioned any kid who whammed into the tree.

Our main goal on the way to the Sendlinger Tor market was the Asam Church, which we had seen in 2007 but was worth another visit. Our hearts sank as we hit the street and saw scaffolding covering the facade, but it was open. Although the gate to the chapel itself was locked, we could still see the interior, which is a stunningly Baroque masterwork.

This was the private chapel built by two brothers; it sits behind an unassuming facade in the middle of a 21st-c. shopping street, and it’s a showstopper.

The Sendlinger Tor market was a bit of a disappointment, very few booths and most of those food or glühwein.

Lunch at a really good burger place, then more wandering through the main market before linking back up with the group to head over to the Hofbrau Haus for a beer and pretzels. There we discussed how the hell we were getting to Stuttgart tomorrow, or if we would get to Stuttgart tomorrow.

All I will say is that we have a plan, but since it involves the icy precipitation holding off enough for us to escape, I will spare you the details.

Back to the hotel, where I have decamped to the lobby with the laptop to catch up on this blog, this time with a Manhattan rather than a gin and tonic. (I had to teach the Hungarian bartender how to make one.)

I apologize for the blogging of this trip being so lackluster, but as I said in the previous post I haven’t been able to get as many photos as I usually do. Rest assured that we’ve done plenty of shopping, and the company has been first-rate. (In fact, I can snag a lot of photos from our WhatsApp group, but the wifi at the hotel is less than first-rate and it’s a pain to stay online.)

Here, have a photo from one of the markets:

Will our intrepid crew make it to Stuttgart, much less Frankfurt, much less home? Stay tuned.

Germany 2023, Day 1 & 2

Note: The weather is working against us, so for the first two days there’s not a lot to report or show.

FRIDAY

We had a long and uneventful flight from Atlanta to Frankfurt, and then a long and uneventful train ride from Frankfurt to Munich.

Here’s the train station right there in the Frankfurt Airport (not to be confused, we were told, with the Frankfurt station, which is in Frankfurt, unlike the Airport station, which is not).

Uneventful, except for this:

Not only is it snowing in Bavaria, it’s a white-out. MY FAVORITE KIND OF WEATHER, KENNETH. (It is not my favorite kind of weather.)

The hotel in Munich is nice, Hotel One, clean, well-appointed. After a short rest, we met with the group to walk down to the Christmas Market. It was crowded, snowy, and pretty enough. No shopping, because we were just getting our bearings. (Our tour guide, Jim, is an old friend from GHP who drags tours around Europe.)

We dined at the Weisses Bräuhaus, near the market, where we had traditional German food and those who liked beer had traditional German beer.

And as was foretold, we trudged back to the hotel in the snow — still falling — where some of us retired. I went to the bar, basic but solid, and had a gin and tonic before retiring.

SATURDAY

Still snowing. This is the garden area outside our hotel window.

We headed back to the Marienplatz, where the Christmas Market  is, in time to hear the Glockenspiel play and watch the charming 19th-c. animatronics do their thing in the New Town Hall tower.

Then over to Alte Peter, “Old Peter,” the oldest church in Munich. (Munich — Bavaria in general — is Catholic, having fought off Martin Luther and his minions over the years.)

Although the Alte Peter dates to the 12th-c., the  interior is a mishmosh of subsequent architectural styles, with Rococo predominating.

Next we hit up the Frauenkirche, the “Lady Church,” i.e., a cathedral devoted to Mary. I don’t have a photo of this one. I’ve been bundled up with multiple layers, plus a stadium coat, plus scarf/hat/gloves, so it’s a real pain to get the phone out and take a photo. My apologies.

Lunch at the Augustiner Bräuhaus, where it was so crowded that we were able to be seated only because we volunteered to take two other people at the table. We were joined by a lovely Belgian father and his young son, who had come to Munich for a soccer match but were forced by the weather to circle the airport for two hours, plus wait for the transport bus (from the tarmac to the terminal), and then found trains/buses/taxis were all shut down because of the snow.

You know, the beautiful snow that you all seem to love.

We were not with the group, so we decided to use our time before regrouping to head over to TK Maxx so I could buy a fleece blanket for my personal sleeping comfort. By the time we made it back to the Frauenkirche for the next leg of the trip, the group had already moved on to the Residenz. Since we’re all communicating via WhatsApp, we told them that was fine, we would do our own thing.

We then set off to maybe actually shop at the Market, but then one of us wanted to find a shop that we remembered from visiting Munich in 2007, Kenneth. You might be surprised to learn that we never found it.

At this point we decided to trek back to the hotel. It was still snowing.

At the time of this writing, we are wondering if we are going to be able to find anywhere that’s open at which we can eat dinner. If worse comes to worst, I have a pack of trail mix that will keep us alive until morning.

Germany 2023: The Beginninging

::sigh:: Yes, yes, we were just in Germany last spring, but this is different.

When our son was studying in Munich seventeen years ago, we went to visit for Thanksgiving. We had a lovely time, but we had to leave the day before the Christmas market opened. This has rankled my Lovely First Wife for a while now, and so for Christmas I have given her a tour of Christmas markets in Munich, Nuremberg, Stuttgart, and Frankfurt.

Because, if you know my Lovely First Wife, you know that there is no such thing as TOO MANY CHRISTMAS.

Follow along as I freeze my ass off all across Germany.

The Parable of the Setting Sun

A young person journeyed far, on a pilgrimage to gain wisdom from those who possessed it.

One night, as she walked along the road, marveling at the stars above and the earth around her, she saw many people seated in a meadow, all facing the same direction. All were weeping and beating their chests. Some threw themselves prostrate upon the ground in their grief. Their clamor was heartrending.

She approached one and asked, “Who are you? Why do you weep? What great tragedy has befallen you?”

The man replied, “We are the ones who have seen the day and mourn its passing. We sit facing west, mourning the setting of the sun, our grief overwhelming us.” He paused. “This is our wisdom. It brings us no joy.”

“But…” the young person began, but the man was no longer listening. With a loud cry he rejoined his fellows in their clamor.

She stood silently for a moment, observing their pain, and then walked away, toward the east, where the sun was already rising.

New Cocktail: The Weirdo

Okay, it’s like this: I don’t know what possessed me to even try this combo, but IT WORKS, PEOPLE.

I also don’t know what to name it, so for the time being, it’s the Weirdo.

The Weirdo

  • 1.5 oz gin (I used Bombay Sapphire)
  • .25 oz applejack
  • 3–5 drops black walnut bitters
  • orange peel

The Rose-Colored G, perfected

I announce — with some astonishment — that I have perfected the Rose-Colored G.

But Dale, I hear you exclaim, what is there to perfect? It’s just a gin and tonic with a float of hibiscus-infused gin on top.

Ah, I reply smugly, but you have not considered the variability of the main ingredient: gin. Normally I use the house gin, which is Bombay Sapphire, but yesterday I decided to use Gray Whale, for no real reason other than I like that gin and have been drinking it more often recently.

The results were a revelation.

I will also say that the hibiscus-infused gin was a little different this time. In getting ready for Alchemy — we always serve the Rose-Colored G at the bar — I was loath to use my dwindling supply of Bombay Sapphire to make a fresh supply of the hibiscus gin, so I bought a small bottle of Beefeater gin and used that. When I had to make another batch upon returning to the default world, I used the rest of the Beefeater. It is now my preferred gin for the hibiscus infusion. (But otherwise I’m not a fan.)

sidebar: At the burn, the 3 Old Men craft cocktail bar served the Smoked Smoky Manhattan, the Smoking Hot Molly, the Rose-Colored G, and the Grassy Knoll. All are my inventions, and we ran out of booze on Friday night. The word had gotten out that 3 Old Men was serving actual craft cocktails and we were swarmed. A proud moment, to be sure.

Whenever I see recipes that call for a specific brand of gin or rye or rum, I usually roll my eyes and just make it with whatever I have in stock, so it’s very weird for me to be doing the same thing here, but I get it: The salinity of the Gray Whale and the cleanness of the Beefeater were amazing together.

The Rose-Colored G

  • 1.5 oz Gray Whale gin
  • tonic water
  • hibiscus-infused gin
  •  Bittermens Elemakule Tiki Bitters
  • optional lime slice

To make the hibiscus-infused gin, pour Beefeater gin into a glass container and add two or three tablespoons of dried hibiscus flowers. Let it sit for about an hour, swirling it every now and then. You want a bright ruby color. (The infusion in the photo is a little too dark.) Strain and bottle.

To make the drink, make a regular gin and tonic, then gently pour the hibiscus infusion onto the ice so that it spreads out and floats. Dribble 5–7 drops of the bitters onto the ice.

Enjoy!

(Note well that if you don’t have Gray Whale, the drink is still delicious with your preferred gin!)

Founded as a Christian nation

The Boston Martyrs being executed. (Technically, Mary Dyer was not hanged at this time, but she was hanged shortly thereafter.)

Today in 1659, Massachusetts Bay Colony executed two Quakers. For being Quaker.

Let that sink in.

This is the framework for those who screech that the United States was FOUNDED AS A CHRISTIAN NATION, KENNETH: The Puritans were not seeking religious liberty when they came to this continent — they were seeking a place where they could establish their own theocratic state. They had no intention of allowing anyone else to exist who did not follow their restrictive, mean-spirited dogma.

And this is what those who screech that the United States was FOUNDED AS A CHRISTIAN NATION, KENNETH actually want. They want to be able to tell everyone how to believe, how to live, how to exist. And they mean to expunge anyone who doesn’t believe as they do.

When I was a wee child, it was drummed into my head that Baptists had their beginning in revolting against this theocracy. Roger Williams established Providence Plantations (now Rhode Island) as a haven for actual religious freedom, allowing all faiths to operate freely. We Baptists didn’t want to be allied with the government, because we had seen the evil that came from that arrangement. “Be not of this world” etc etc. (It was also drummed into me that the First Amendment to the Constitution prohibited the establishment of a state religion because we didn’t want a situation like the Church of England — but I’m thinking it was just as much in response to the Puritans as the Anglicans.)

Baptists now? Not so much. Separation of church and state? BuT wE wErE fOuNdEd As A cHrIsTiAn NaTiOn, KENNETH!

Do not vote for these people, neither for Speaker of the House or for any other office.

Utah 2023: Pro Tips

Hi, all! Sorry it’s taken me all week to get around to this final post, but the brain took a break after all that driving around. (We could have driven home from Arches National Park, that’s how far we drove.)

So what pro tips did we discover this time?

This tip is from Ranesha, the Avis rental agent at the Four Queens Hotel & Casino in Vegas: Check to see if your hotel has a car rental desk. If so, then take a cab or Uber from the airport and rent your car at the hotel. (She didn’t say, but I imagine it would be a good idea to do that over the phone before you start traveling.) No lines, personal service, and no trudging through a giant parking deck. Also, sometimes you get a better deal.

Ask park rangers for advice on how to get from there to the next place. This is how we were able to see more than just the five national parks. However, remember that it is also how we got to experience Hwy 12.

In the same vein, don’t overlook state parks. Nevada’s Valley of Fire and Utah’s supremely silly Valley of Goblins were awesome!

As always, in a park with one main artery in and out, drive to the end and then stop on all the overlooks on the way back, unless the overlooks are on the right. Mostly they’re on the left, though.

Especially in Arches National Park, if your timed ticket is after twelve noon, go straight to Delicate Arch. If you don’t, you’ll end up like us, too tired to make the 40-minute hike to see it up close.

In Vegas… I don’t know. I have no affection for the place. Cirque du Soleil is fabulous and I would advise you not to miss Meow Wolf’s OmegaMart, but otherwise the city is not my kind of place. YMMV, of course. You might check hotel prices out near Hoover Dam to see if they’re cheaper; it’s a 30-minute drive, but the savings may make it preferable.

No pro tip here, but a caution: We like to travel without firm plans on where to stay, using the app Hotel Tonight to book hotels on the fly and at reduced rates. The one night we had planned to use Hotel Tonight, though, I was shocked to find that no rooms were available in St. George, UT. When I went to Expedia, I found plenty of rooms, so the lesson is that if business is booming, hotels have no reason to push reduced-rate rooms via Hotel Tonight.

As always, be aware of altitude sickness. It’s real and it will lay you low. Just take it easy, drink lots of water, and make sure you pack your lip balm — when they say it’s a “dry heat” you’re probably focused on the “heat” part of that, but the “dry” is equally as problematic.

Next: CHRISTMAS MARKETS IN GERMANY — stay tuned!