Stomachs on legs are proud to present

Via swissmiss: grill me a sausage, foolish iPhone.


Until now, I thought that the only valid use of the iphone was taking shots of food with which to taunt your friends. I was wrong. Here is a barbecue sausage simulator, built to advertise the weiners of German sausage makers, Bell. Apparently, the barbecue is controlled by blowing into the microphone.

Fertility festival at Tagata Shrine, Aichi, takes place every year on March 15 when you can encounter phallus-shaped snacks.




In case you are wondering, they are chocolate-covered bananas.



...and okonomiyaki-coated frank.

"Please accept this fun salami-holder, including salami, as a token of my appreciation."

In case you were worried your winter salami might dry out in the refrigerator, you can make use of one of these creepy santa tubes.

(Spotted yesterday at Kaiser's Supermarket on Zulpicherplatz, Cologne)

We're nearly at the end of recounting meals eaten in New York. So hold tight. WD50 is the last on the list I think, but I'm leaving the interpretation of that astonishing meal to Hock.

So...a night out close to our last days in New York.

My restaurant of choice was Kyotofu.

I had read about it somewhere and thought rhetorically, what's not to like? I like tofu, I like sake.

It was my choice given that I had willingly sacrificed all my hard work at the gym to follow Hock on his burger/ pizza tour of NYC. And despite the fact that we were leaving to Tokyo within a matter of hours, I felt my digestion system couldn't wait for healthy pan-Asian treats.

We arrived and ordered a sample plate of the mains on offer and a sake sampler.





And a large quivering mass of tofu.


We then ordered a huge bottle of sake and silliness and hunger ensued.

The sampler and tofu weren't enough for four people so we decided to order extra of the samples which everyone liked. Unexpectedly, it wasn't tofu.

At this point tofu ceased to suffice as a drinking snack. We gave up and ordered full portions of the sausages and eel.



My stomach groaned. I'd promised it tofu and spring water and instead showered it with sausages and sake.

Things only got worse after an outrageous kareoke evening, and a taco truck on the upper west side at 2 am.

My digestive system and I are slowly regaining trust in one another, but its a relationship that may take some time to mend

At this yearly Dachshund get together, it's a fashion that'll never go out of style. No doubt - if I had a dachshund I'd make it wear that suit all the time.

Above you see friend/employer/neighbour Torsten Schmidt brandishing a Blutwurst from the village where he grew up, Thalfang.

So far we've had two blutwurst fry-ups...
I'm a big fan of proper Blutwurst.
The silky small cubes of fat give this particular sausage an interesting texture when eaten in its cold, unfried state. This adds to the crispiness when fried.

I also like the less-firm, 'wet' textured Blutwurst that is served up in local Brauhaus Putz, when you order the local Cologne specialty 'Himmel und Aed' (Heaven & Earth). The visceral sloppiness is not for the faint of heart but goes great with the caramelised onions, apple sauce & mash potato.

It's a great dish for this time of year (savoury but not greasy like regular sausages, and winter-fortifying: all that iron and vitamin B). When Torsten takes the leftovers to the office the next day, David, Alfred, Wulf and him crowd into the kitchen to eat slices of it cold with mustard, gherkin and horseradish and there is much giggling and manly enjoyment.

(Photo taken by Mina von Sneakerberg in Berlin)

Most days I cycle the 400 meters to work. This short trip always takes me past my local grilled meat dealer, often I will be tempted to pick up a few assorted sticks to chow on for a linner snack. What is impressive about this particular vendor is his dedication to quality, he does not sell the processed shit that most of the other hawkers pass off for grilled goodies in my neighbourhood, obviously it takes time and effort to do the butchery, prepare the marinades, sauces etc. This dedication to quality has paid off. Initially business was slow as the narrow soi is low on foot traffic but over the year that I have been working in Bangkok and making this daily commute I have noticed that day after day business has slowly picked up and now there is a constant stream of moto drivers and other customers (yes mostly men) who drop by for their meat fix. Masta Grilla (as I like to refer to him) and his smoky charcoal stand has become so popular that much to my amusement other vendors have now tried to cash in on his trade by setting up stands next to his but with little success.
Today was a first for me in that Masta Grilla was open when I was travelling homeward bound (I slipped out early from work as the kitchen crew seemed to have everything under control) so I grabbed a chicken wing, some gizzards and a few livers and headed to the pool on the roof of my apartment. This plus some street corn and a Phuket beer made for an indulgent afternoon snack.

Early morning pig carcasses on the north side of the St. Lawrence Market, Toronto.

I'm ashamed to admit we only knew about this place through a visitor from NYC who had read about it in a Wallpaper magazine supplement.

At this hour of the morning, the handful of people browsing (as well as the stall-holders) were less Marc Jacobs and Northface, decidedly more in the arena of ancient parkers and homespun knits.



On Saturdays the smaller North hall is used for an organic farmer's market. We went there straight from the afterhours (in Toronto anything open past 2am is called an afterhours) at about 6am...eschewing dodgy home fries at Fran's diner for the warm, familial atmosphere of a market in its calm and sleepy opening hours. No one seemed too hurried, no one was hussling or shouting at each other – maybe it was because of the laid back Canadian temperament but the atmosphere was comparable to a provincial library, especially the spectacled, brown-cardiganned woman who stutteringly sold us her malted, hand made 7 grain bread. No shortage of strapping sons helping their dad load piles of potatoes, elk venison or jars of honey either though.





Top notch cider (we drank 2 litres in about 2 seconds):



Home made apple cranberry crisp and wild blueberry pies (we bought a pumpkin pie):



Across the street is the South hall of the St Lawrence Market which is open daily except Monday:



We were convinced by a Ukrainian lady in the basement to buy a piece of a big coiled up sausage she had just baked, which was herby and juicy. We also bought a still-warm hot cross bun:



Smoked pork hocks:



Famous Canadian peameal bacon, a variety of unsmoked lean back bacon that has been sweet pickle-cured and coated in yellow cornmeal, though originally, as the name suggests, peameal was used. This should be distinguished from the imposter that is often called Canadian bacon in the U.S. but which is actually just sliced ham. Goes great with maple syrup.



Later on that night... we cracked open the pie, which was distinguishable from store-bought pies by its light, flaky and carameralised-around-the-edges crust:



and the bread. Top marks to the lady in the brown cardigan. The bread had a dense but light crumb, just soft and crumbly enough, with a pleasant molasses undertone. With avocado and a glass of cider, a remarkably effective hang over cure.

A hobby historian has discovered the oldest known recipe for German sausage, a list of ingredients for Thuringian bratwurst nearly 600 years old.

While Gutfeeling's own Maytel has broken the bonds of Bangkok into the welcoming arms of my hometown Melbourne, I've seamlessly slipped into her place in Thailand and have been abusing the Chef privileges. Witness: above fleischwurst platter. Count those mustards.

The Thai-German meat connection scares me. Two disparate cultures coming together to make sausages generally ends in disaster rather than deliciousness. I'm not sure what it is about Bangkok that makes it work, but I suspect that it is a man named Otto Duffner. Otto arrived in Bangkok in 1981 at the behest of the Boonroad Brewery where he worked in their bierhaus before branching out into his own brewery/bakery/butchery store in 1984. Since then, he's been churning out the above wurst and bread at Bei Otto of exemplary quality.

Yiddish has some excellent sounding words. Some of the coolest sounding words from the German language surface in Yiddish, in slightly unfamiliar shapes since they're descended from old or regional forms and sometimes given new meanings entirely. Schmalz, schmuck, schlep. 'Knish' is one of the awesomest sounding Yiddish words (but it probably doesn't come from German). A shame, though, to order a sweet potato knish at the renowned Katz' Deli and for them to microwave it front of one's eyes. That's just knot very knice.

It didn't taste too bad, though.



We liked how a sign at Katz' advertised "A Piece of Stukel" ("Stuck" in German means a piece).



I am aware that many people revere Katz' as the best pastrami ever, but I'm afraid I preferred the taste of the kosher pastrami at the (currently closed) 2nd Ave Deli. Katz' is not kosher, and to add to the microwaved vibe, it's packed with tourists.



The pastrami was buttery and fell apart in the mouth, but in my stubborn & ill-informed opinion, 2nd Ave Deli sandwiches tasted better. And they were so big there was no way you could finish a whole one.

Also, at 2nd Ave Deli you could get sweet peppers in your sandwich. Katz' doesn't have them. The 2nd Ave Deli matzo ball soup was a revelation, a work of art (I have the recipe in a NYC recipe compendium back in Germany, will post when I get back); whereas Katz' matzo ball soup looks very pedestrian.

My final complaint is that Katz gives you ONE measly half-sour pickle split in half. The 2nd Ave Deli would give you a whole bowl full.

Sorry for kvetching ("kvetch" means to complain chronically in Yiddish; "quetsch" means to crush something in German. We don't know if there is any etymological connection; it would be nice if there was, though).

The great news is, as the NY Times recently reported, Jack Lebewohl, whose family owned the Second Avenue Deli for decades, said his son Jeremy would reopen the deli in Murray Hill — on East 33rd Street, between Lexington and Third Avenues — “sometime in the fall.”

Mr. Lebewohl expects a fair few tourists to come to the new 2nd Ave Deli too, recalling a man who once entered the deli and exclaimed, “I smell Judaism.”



The hot dog at Katz' was fine: a hot dog, in a soft bun gobbled up in about 5 seconds since half the digestion is done ahead of time, ya know.

The best thing I had at Katz' was a sample of the strong, tasty Knoblewurst (garlic sausage; 'knoblauch' is garlic in German), which one of the servers shaved off for the lady ordering her sandwich ahead of me. If I ever go back, I'll take a Knoblewurst-on-rye. But hopefully the 2nd Ave Deli will have reopened by then.

Last week my sister, Greg, Tui and I made like the locals and tried out one of those disposable picnic BBQs in the park around the corner, under the TV Tower. I had thought that these were a German speciality, but when looking for a web page about them saw 6 packs advertised at Woolworths in the UK, so clearly I was wrong.

To use anything disposable seems so '80s, but wow, so handy.

Disposable grills are not the only method around here - the Germans are enthusiastic grillers and have all manner of contraptions. Still not sure whether it's entirely legal to grill out in public like that, but it's not stopping anyone. The grassy slope near the large pond known as the Aachener Weier is literally a cloud of BBQ (and pot) smoke on summery evenings, while it's still light. Oftentimes I have gone for a walk around there and been amused at old guys sitting on park benches with a little aluminium foil BBQ tray at their feet, sizzling away, right next to the dusty track around the pond. A takeaway BBQ seems to be pretty handy when you are young and German and can just bicycle past a supermarket, grab a few wurstchen and a grill and away you go.

I'm not sure if we lit ours correctly. We took out the cardboard that seperated charcoal and the wire grill. Rachel thought that it might have been a specially flammable cardboard designed to help the flame spread evenly in those crucial first minutes.

Still, the charcoal burned long and hot (at least in places) and we managed to get our tofu weiners satisfactorily blistered on the outside. The red onion was not so successful, but it always takes an outrageous amount of time to cook it to the point where I like it.

The salad was the best thing, made at home.
-Feldsalat
a.k.a lamb's lettuce or mache
-red cabbage
-a tin of a brand of tuna that has only recently been labelled as 'not certified bio' at the local biomarkt (there was no sustainably farmed tuna available to buy... please accept my apologies)
-mixed sprouts (mung beans and so forth)
- a small amount of crumbled feta
- a couple of cooked beetroot chopped
- couple of tomatoes chopped
- 2 small carrots grated
- a couple spring onions finely chopped
- some parsely
- a sweet potato chopped then roasted with chilli flakes and a little sesame oil & butter
- dressing of a little Japanese mayo, red wine vinegar, olive oil and seasoning

We drank red wine from the bottle, and finished with watermelon.

(photo: Moxo Tengu
about to get the Corny-licious nutrition he needs to play the RBMA Radio stage at Melt festival)

Melt festival is a two-night affair in deepest East Germany. The festival site is a 20 min car ride from the nearest town, Dessau, which means you are somewhat bound to eat what's on site. So don't forget your packet of hazelnut Corny bars!

Luckily there are some stalls offering decent snacks to rockers and ravers (Melt has an equal mix of both, a bit like mixing oil and water,... or oil, vinegar and eggs: it results in quite a mellow social mayonnaise).

In the picture you can see a typical German fairground snack, the gingerbread hearts with declarations of love in icing, These didn't seem to be selling too well to the fans of Dizzee Rascal and Kelis. Nor did this same store do much of a trade in its roasted nuts or chocolate-coated apples. I felt sorry for them. What's wrong with a good honest nut then eh?

To the girl's left in the picture below was a smoothie stall where I had a truly delicious smoothie of frozen strawberries, apple juice and peach pulp. 2 or 3 euros. And they told me I was the first one to order it! Melt punters, you missed out!!



Otherwise, you have the option of a very long queue at a white lady diner caravan for a damn good Currywurst
with fries - actually the best currywurst I've ever had! The outside of the sausage was perfectly grilled, crumbly and toasted and sort of falling off into the quite sweet sauce. The fries were just OK.

Or there is a bio (organic) wurst stand: I had a bratwurst there with a small piece of graubrot (german sourdough). The sausage was good but quite small and the bread was dry. The 'chutney' was a slightly exotic tasting mayo.

Sausages are unsurprisingly the staple rock concert snack of Germans, traditionally consumed with liberal amounts of Jaegermeister. At Melt I really grew to understand the effectiveness of this combination! Jaegermeister is totally the perfect rave alcohol! I hold it partially responsible for how much I enjoyed Maurice Fulton's set, though Maurice himself deserves most of the credit.

Which of the people in the picture below has consumed the perfect ratio of sausages to Jaegermeister? That's right - it's our old friend Mr. Monkey Sausage...otherwise known as Yannick Elverfeld: see a clip of his monthly party here




Stay away from the falafels in the Turkish tent, as nice as the rugs and divans might be: the falafels look and taste like hard, irregular pieces of rabbit shit.

In the backstage area, they had a buffet for artists to take one helping only. So you had people like Tobias Thomas
hob-knobbing with Alex Smoke
over gratinized potatoes, and the very German (though Scandinavian in origin) dessert of Rote Gruetze
(literally 'red groats'?) - a thick mixed berry compote with vanilla cream ( a light custard).

No photos of that, but here are some people backstage going to the Red Groats tent:



I guess the brave campers have it the best food-wise. BBQing under a tarpaulin next to this abandoned steel-mining-pit-turned-lake, seems the way to go.



Be careful how much Jaegermeister and currywurst you consume: everything becomes a bit backwards the next morning, especially your German, and you might find that when you order a cafe latte, they bring you an ice cream sundae. Like Kat here, a Californian currently living in Berlin:

This one is for the tiny man.

I have been on the look out for yummy goodies to fill the chiller at home with, as we have the infamous T man (if you are not familiar with his work check out his latest installation here) coming to our city soon and there is much planning to be done.

Although the way the general dietary practices of most Bangkok Thais are going I think this might be considered an all ages snack by most living here.

Today's issue of the New York Times has a style section about various foodstuffs, worth your perusal. You might need to join the site as a member to read the articles (it's free).

"Bertolli makes 5,000 pounds of fresh sausage a week. Today he’s scaled it down, using a Biro tabletop grinder to turn 10 pounds of cold butt and belly into ribbons. Coolness is key, he says: “If meat is at 30 to 32 degrees when it’s mixed, it favors the extraction of protein,” which is needed to bind the ingredients. (For more explanation, see the chapter on sausage making in Bertolli’s book “Cooking by Hand.”) Common problems with grinding meat at home are that the blades aren’t sharp enough and the meat is too warm. “Then you get what we call a smear,” he says. “It’s greasy, crumbly, doesn’t bind.”"

Watch Paul Bertolli
stuff salumi here. Since I am in Deutschland I am really thinking I ought to get a sausage stuffer and explore the world of sausage making... though to the idea of working with intestines in their raw form ... i can only say YUMUCK.

Other items in today's NYTimes:
- 'That's Amari'- a column about Italian digestive liqueurs.

- 'Passing the Bucket'- short piece about sawara wood buckets (cost $160 smackeroos) used to keep ice at its perfect consistency in Tokyo's snootiest bars.



- Grill Seekers
- a piece about all the latest BBQ gadgetry including the latest Viking r2d2-esque kamado-style ceramic lined BBQ: