You can't get blood from a turnip and other culinary things

Cups of espresso are deceptively small, and the pots in which they are made are deceptively large. Before kids, Bill and I used to have a leisurely cup of cappuccino, a warm croissant, and cherries on weekend mornings. We bought a Krups electric espresso/cappuccino maker expressly for that purpose. Then the kids arrived and that lovely habit fell out of use. When we lived in Roma the first time, we normally had our cappuccini at Primo's cafe but Bill also figured out how to make espresso using a traditional screw-together espresso pot. Enchanted with the notion that I could savor Italian moments in my home in Fayetteville, we purchased our first Bialetti espresso maker. Thinking as an American, I thought "large" so we bought the 4-cup version. You see, unlike an American coffee maker, the size of the pot determines the number of cups you make in it. Bill really wasn't helping me drink my 4 cups of espresso so I decided that I needed a 1-cup maker. On our next trip, I bought the 1-cup version. I know I'm a bit of a Goldilocks on many things and, apparently, espresso makers are among them. The 4-cupper was too large and the 1-cupper too small. This trip I bought a 2-cupper. Yesterday, I decided I wanted 2 cups of espresso so I grabbed an espresso pot. It seemed large enough for 2 cups but I only got a measly cup out of it. Later in the afternoon I realized the error of my ways. While the pot seemed big enough for two cups, it was the 1-cupper. Proving that you can't get blood from a turnip or 2 cups of espresso out of a 1-cupper. As an aside, we still have the Krups but I've since forgotten how to work it and, frankly, I'm a little scared that the steam pressure will suddenly explode.

That brings me to my next subject: idioms. I'm just awful at idioms, ask Bill. Perhaps that's why it's difficult for me to speak foreign languages--I still haven't mastered my own. Well, before I typed what seemed to be a mildly amusing blog title, I decided to check it out on the web to make sure I was getting the idiom just right. Without even mentioning the word Italian, the web list brought up this:
I have never heard of blood from a turnip either, so perhaps it is indeed a ... But in Italian we often say "can't get blood from a turnip" ... It turns out that the Italians say the same thing, well, only in Italian: Cavar sangue da una rapa.

So, while I'm in the kitchen, I'll show you my gingerbread men. You see, the one thing I really, really wanted to eat in Berlin was a gingerbread cookie. I only saw them once and at the time wasn't hungry for one. Seriously disappointed that I couldn't find any after that, though I searched high and low, I decided to make my own in Fayetteville. Aren't these little guys adorable? And they were fresh, too.

Shiny things II or could I really have earned a second degree?

Dear Readers (if there are any),

Please accept this apology for making you toggle back and forth between photos and text. I didn't realize that it was so easy to interject pictures. And a college graduate...twice...obviously, I still have bunches to learn.

Well, now that my pictorial travelogue is at an end, let me tell you about these pictures. The picture above is of the Reichstag where the German parliament meets. An architect by the name of Foster designed the dome. Bill and I didn't want to stand in line to get in, something last week Bill had told me he had wished he had done. If you want to see what the inside of the dome looks like, check out this site at Wikipedia:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Reichstag_building.

Foster has also designed a number of train stations. A train station that will handle high-speed trains is supposedly in the works right now for Florence. I guess I'll have to go back to Italy to check it out once it's finished.




These pictures were taken at the Galeries Lafayette in Berlin. From the outside (at least on a cold, dark winter's night) it looks pretty much like any modern building. However, the inside is most surprising. The center core of the building is a void in the shape of double cones with their flat sides flush to each other--a double-sided vortex that funnels into narrower channels towards the basement and roof ends. Consequently, shoppers walk along the circumference of the circle created by the void. Everything is very reflective and it's like looking into a diamond...a VERY BIG diamond. The walls of the core walls are glass so you can look down, across, and up. It kind of scared Bill, so he said, but I think he was just saying that so that I would hurry past Gucci, Burberry, and Versace. As for the merchandise, it's very high end. On the basement level there is a lovely food court of sorts--not like our mall here in Fayetteville, more of the Neiman-Marcus ilk. See the little white tables at the bottom of the photo. We didn't eat there because we were waiting to eat at our favorite Winterfest.

How to insert pictures into text: an experiment

OK, now I've inserted my cursor below the last picture posted. Will this work?

Well, that was incredibly easy. It merely took me looking at my friend's blog (he's on a ship, well, actually a fishing vessel, on his way to Antarctica for a second time) to realize that it is possible to alternate text and images. I AM SO STUPID!



This is my first picture. And this is my text. Blah, blah, blah.

Now I am going to try to insert my next picture.

Right here.

Well, that didn't work.

Shiny things

Potsdamer Platz was a fun place to visit and was suggested to us by Davide. It was built on a site that straddled the Soviet and Western sectors, kind of a no-man's land. Now it's a delightful place architecturally. I wasn't prepared for the surprise awaiting me in the inner courtyard. Don't you think the radial skylight looks like the spokes on a badminton birdie? The last picture is a faux-water pool of black granite, and everything you see in the shot, except for the grout lines, is a reflection. In the reflection you can see the enormous Christmas tree on which hung huge ornaments; I think they were on steroids. The first picture is our reflection in one of these ornaments.

Outside Potsdamer Platz was another winterfest where we found a Christmas present for Catherine and a giant hill of ice for tubing. I seriously considered going for a ride down the hill but I didn't want to spend another Christmas in casts.

Coincidentally, when the Wall came down, Pink Floyd (remember they had an album called "The Wall") hosted a charity concert at this site (thank you Wikipedia for that tidbit). Pink Floyd has NEVER come up in any discourse of mine until this blog. What is it with Pink Floyd anyway?

A train station for Tricia

I realize my last few blogs have been rather melancholic but nothing gets me out of a blue funk like a good train station, and the Berlin Hauptbahnhof is certainly that. For my readers who may not be aware of my interest in train stations, I'll simply say that I spent my last semester either designing a light rail station using the Fayetteville Town Center as my site or writing my thesis--Train Stations: Iconography, Wayfinding, and the Evolution of a Type. In short, I LOVE TRAIN STATIONS.

The Berlin Hauptbahnhof incorporates the historical iconography with a contemporary emphasis on transparency. I promise I'll not go into a defense of my thesis, it's a fun place to visit. Bill and I used the S-Bahn (the elevated train) to get from our neighborhood in Charlottenburg (West Berlin) to the hustle and bustle of downtown Berlin (East Berlin). You can see how the red and yellow S-Bahn train arrives under the east-west train shed on the top floor of the station (2nd photo). On the lowest level, four floors down and just barely visible, are the tracks for the heavy rail lines, including the Eurostar. The fourth picture is a shot from this level looking up. These rail lines are oriented on a north-south axis. If there is not already a subway stop there, I think one is planned for the near future. Isn't it great that all of these trains come and go out of one station?

The other thing I like about train stations is the train shed, especially when it is a shiny new one like this or a carefully restored old one like St. Pancras. I've included two images of the concourse roof that, like Paddington Station, merges into the train shed itself.

Need guidance on what stations to visit? My all time favorite: Roma Termini. It's a great station, it's easy to read (even if you don't read Italian), it's always lively, and well, it's in Roma. And here's a travel tip: stop and buy a cappuccino and cornetto for the train at the little coffee shop to the right of the bookstore. The cornetti are frequently warm and very good. When you disembark from the trains you can always catch the 64 or 40 into town. These buses always drive around the Piazza della Repubblica and the exedra which just seem to want to embrace you with a huge welcome hug. The Berlin Hauptbahnhof ranks second. Like Roma Termini, it always seemed busy which is the best sign of a successful station. The S-Bahn runs either clockwise or counter-clockwise around the city and you can get a good feel for Berlin by just riding the rail. The site of the Hauptbahnhof seems a little isolated for my tastes even though it's right downtown but maybe that was due to the icky weather on the day we visited. Finally, there's Union Terminal in Cincinnati. If it were a busier station and if its concourse had not been amputated, this station for me would trump Berlin's. Sadly, the dearth of rail travel nearly resulted in the death of this station. While there may still be able to catch an Amtrak train on alternating days, its primary function now is to house several museums.

Once you get to the station of your choice, remember to buy a train ticket. Train travel in Europe is lovely, and you can see so many wonderful places.

Schinkel bells, Schinkel bells, Schinkel all the way!

I have two architecture professors to thank for this blog, Ethel Goodstein-Murphree and Davide Vitali. Ethel introduced me to Schinkel's Altes Museum, and Davide sang this musical pun while he was giving us a list of places to see in Berlin.

The first photo is of the Brandenburg Gate--just so you know we went to Berlin! We traveled down the Unter den Linden, the Champs-Élysées of Berlin, to see the grand old buildings of Berlin.

Frankly, the main reason I wanted to go to Berlin was to see the Altes Museum (1828). Schinkel took the ancient forms of portico and dome (pictures 2 and 3) and stripped them of excess decoration while at the same time focused on the function of the spaces inside. I was surprised to find a Pantheon-like dome in the center of the building. In a nutshell, the Altes Museum in part served as a model for 20th century architects in helping to establish the tenets of Modern archcitecture. Ethel, of course, said this much more eloquently than I.

The Altes Museum is situated on an island similar to the Île de la Cité in Paris. I was surprised to learn that there are a series of canals in Berlin. Many of the museums are located here along with the Lutheran cathedral. As a side note, Bill and I happened to walk into the Catholic cathedral which was constructed in the round during the 1800s. There was a beautiful organ concert in process when we walked in. Entrance to the church and to the concert was free of charge. On the other hand, the Lutherans wanted to charge 8 euro just to enter their cathedral! Luther would be rolling in his grave!

The fourth picture is a shot of a transition between new construction and old. I thought it was a good transition. The picture was taken not far from the Altes.

It was late in the afternoon when we reached the Pergamon Museum. We decided not to visit the museum and instead continued our wanderings in the neighborhood. From the elevated train we had seen a beautiful dome. When we reached it we learned that it was the synagogue in the neighborhood where many Jews were deported to concentration camps. As you can see from my last entry, Berlin is a very moving city on an emotional level. It shocked me that the Nazis thought nothing of killing the Jews and yet did nothing to destroy the building where they worshipped. Seeing the New Synagogue (that's what it is called even though by American standards it's an old building) reminded me of the synagogue in Roma. Armed guards patrol both sites. I find that unnerving.

The next image is of the inside of a famous and elegant hotel that was bombed during the war. The photograph was taken from an outside plaza. I thought it was interesting how the architect preserved the lovely remnants of the former building for all to see. The new construction occurs behind the façade of the former interior walls.

It was my impression that the Russians got the better part of Berlin when they divied up the city. They got the Brandenburg Gate, the Altes, the Friedrichstraβe (incidentally, my favorite German word), the Unter den Linden, the Lutheran cathedral, and the Pergamon. Fortunately, it's a reunified city. The new American embassy was built just to the south of the Brandenburg Gate in what had formerly been East Berlin. The last picture shows the proximity of the embassy with the curvy portico to the Gate. I wonder if the Americans chose that site just for spite. Hmmmmm...

Finally, notice how flat the sky is in these pictures. We missed the beautiful, ever-changing skies of Roma. We also missed the warmth of Roma, too.

I am a Cold War baby

The first serious book I recall reading was about the erection of the Berlin Wall and how it severed families, including a girl and her family, overnight. I was probably in 3rd or 4th grade but I couldn't put the book down.

I'm sure that the Berlin Chamber of Commerce does not wish to foster this image of their city. Still, for me the haunting memory of the Wall is very strong. I repeatedly found myself wondering if I was in East Berlin or West Berlin as we walked about the city. After all, it really doesn't make any difference now, does it? From the standpoint of urban design, I find it difficult to imagine such a dramatic isolation of part of a city and then the daunting task to reunify it.

Most of the Wall has been torn down and generally only an embedded engraving in the street serves as a reminder of that horrid Wall. Even the images of East Berlin, created by spy movies in the 60s and 70s, are being swept away by new construction. Sometimes the new construction obscures the former line of demarcation between East and West. However, there are still a few vestiges of Communist regime architecture as seen in the second photo.

We approached the remaining portion of the Wall from the Russian sector. The sky was a dull gray and there was a definite chill in the air. The third picture is what we saw. It is odd that the one of the construction methods that is the hallmark of Modernism--reinforced concrete--is, in this context, symbolic of absurdism, existentialism, and alienation. For us it was very easy to pass from East Berlin to West. We didn't have to pull out our passports, and there was no fear of finding ourselves in a Kafka-esque situation; no, we simply walked a few more feet and we were on the west side of the Wall. Underscoring our passage from East to West was the sun. Notice the difference between the 3rd and 4th pictures. As soon as we passed to the West the sun appeared; I'm not kidding.

Those of us who have taken Davide's Architecture of the City course in Roma learn early on about Roma's strata. The layers of Berlin's recent history were very apparent once we reached the west side of the Wall where the Topography of Terror exhibit can be found. Two years before the Wall came down and in honor of the city's 750th anniversary, the grounds of this site were made available to the public. Here was located the national headquarters of the SS. The last two pictures show this open-air exhibit. It is very moving, sort of like the Vietnam War Monument in Washington, D.C. On the lower level you find the basement interrogation rooms of the Nazis and above that the Wall.

Before 9-11, most Americans, like myself, felt somewhat insulated against the atrocities of war. Europeans, on the other hand, have seen in recent memory two world wars fought on their land. Now consider two children born in 1954 of Catholic mothers, less than 10 years after V-E Day. The American mother names her daughter "Mary" after herself, her father's mother, and the Virgin Mary; the Italian mother gives her son a middle name of "Mario" because the name she likes, "Davide," sounds too Jewish and she fears for the safety of her child.

I am a Cold War baby because the memory of the Wall evokes fears of alienation in me. I have never met Davide's mother, but from the poignant retelling of how he came to be named I would guess that his mother is a World War II baby. For the citizens of Germany who lived through a War and a Wall, I cannot begin to imagine how cruel it would be to be a baby of both.

Eating our way through Berlin or would you believe I don't really like German cuisine?

I don't really like German food, really. I don't even like beer. So when we arrived in Berlin and we found winterfests on every platz in town with winterfest street food, I found the answer to my German dining dilemma: street food.

Rarely do I eat street food. I think I ate chestnuts in New York once and Ryan Anderson got me to eat some Middle Eastern food from a wagon while in Cambridge, and that, I think, pretty much sums up my exposure to this kind of food.

Thank goodness for winterfest. Berlin is cold and glum in the winter. Early one afternoon we warmed ourselves with Glühwein; it's a hot, mulled red wine...or you can have a white wine version, too. Bill found it too sweet but I liked the way it warmed me up from the inside out.

At last count, I believe we went to either 7 or 8 winterfests. We had a favorite, of course. It's the one with huge woks of hot food. So what did we eat? Crêpes, hot pretzels, bratwurst, Bratkartoffeln (potatoes and onions), potato pancakes and applesauce, little doughnut-like cookies, and gyros.

Between platzes we warmed up with coffee and hot chocolate. It was tough to find a pub where Bill could get a beer. Can you believe that? Finally, we found a lovely pub.

As a consequence of finding street food, we never ate in a German restaurant. We were served these ridiculously large breakfasts at our hotel: liverwurst, 9-grain bread, 2 kinds of hard rolls, 4 kinds of cereals, hard-boiled eggs, scrambled eggs, hot dogs, sausage, cold cuts, tomatoes caprese, gherkins, coleslaw, marinated mushrooms, tomatoes and cucumbers in vinagrette, yogurt, coffee, orange juice, and ace (carrot and citrus juices). After we loaded up at breakfast time, we were obviously good to go until it was time to dine on street food. I still don't like German cuisine but obviously I never missed a meal!

A last look at Barcelona

Barcelona is just a charming and interesting city blessed by fabulous architecture, mountains, valleys, the Mediterranean Sea, great food, and warm people. Everyone should visit Barcelona at least once in a lifetime.

I leave you with some random, parting pictures. The first is a photo taken from the outside of the Casa Milà. Like the following pictures of Park Güell, this was also designed by Gaudí. The Park is located at the top of one of the very steep hills in Barcelona. In addition to climbing countless stairs and panting up a rather steep incline, I believe Bill and I took four escalators to reach the top. The fourth picture shows the ceiling of the hippostyle which is located beneath a plaza ringed by very curvilinear seats (5th picture).

One evening we had paella at a nearby restaurant. It's similar to a risotto but not as creamy and there's a hint of saffron.

Finally, there's a shot of me by the harbor. Bill and I walked down La Rambla and then rewarded ourselves with very leisurely-sipped glasses of wine. It was wonderful just to watch the water and feel the warm sun on our cheeks.

Christmas Day: Part III

These are pretty pictures of the tree in the living room. For several years before my mother died she sent us boxes of special ornaments so that every year we would think of her. This is Dorothy and her little dog, Toto. I also have the Tin Man, the Scarecrow, and the Lion.

The second ornament goes back to my childhood. There are six of these "moderne" stars. Whenever I see them they make me happy. I especially like this pink star. This reminds me that when I was little we had a string of lights with special bulbs: a bunch of grapes, a sun, a moon, etc. They were similar to the chili pepper lights but each one was different. I wish you could buy bulbs like that now.

The remaining ornaments are just fun. I like glass ornaments on the tree. Roberta and Robbie gave us the bird ornament this Christmas. It was perfect because I needed something to "perch" on a branch. I think the penguin and pink pig with the clover are silly. They, too, bring a smile to my face.

We have artificial trees. Every year when Bill plugs branch A into hole A I am reminded of my first real boyfriend, Tim McKenzie. He's the one who got me interested in English and he had a quirky sense of humor. We were on the phone as his folks were setting up the tree and he began to quote Joyce Kilmer, "only God can make a tree."

I was lazy this year and set up only one tree. I have a small tree that I set up in either the study or cozy room with little Royal Doulton figurines and a pearl garland and satin ribbons; that tree always reminds me of my Great Aunt Anna because of the figurines. In the family room there are normally three trees (small, medium, and large) that look like they were cut down from a pine stand in Norway; on those trees I hang little paper origami ornaments I made a few years back.

So that's the story about the tree. My mom was right, Christmas ornaments bring back memories.

Christmas Day: Part II

Now that you've seen Billy's extraordinary Christmas, here's the rest of our holiday. We went to the Children's Vigil Mass on Wednesday evening and were joined by Sarah, Billy's girlfriend. She has had a good influence on him: he now eats onions and sings at Mass. Catherine came although she was spiking a fever. That's a picture of her on the couch after Mass.

By late Christmas morning, we decided that Billy had to be awakened so that we could open our presents and see what Santa had left for us. Catherine was still running a fever so she was propped up on the living room sofa. Nevertheless, a little new jewelry brightened her spirits. Billy gave me a huge, cuddly, and very warm robe. Bill was delighted to open his present from Billy: a new shirt that is on its way with Bill to the MLA conference even as I type this.

There are certain foods we associate with Christmas and every Christmas begins with French toast. This is an oven baked recipe so I always prepare it the night before and pop it in the oven on Christmas morning. Of course, for Bill, Catherine, and myself this was the second course. We had to wait so long for Billy to get up that we had already feasted on B.A. Rudolph's delicious blueberry coffee cake. Catherine wants the recipe, B.A.!

In the evening we went to the home of Rusty and Peggy Pang. Peggy is a fantastic cook. She prepared crab cakes, halibut with a bienville sauce, salad, and two desserts while Rusty grilled a salmon. It was delicious. Now in addition to French toast, the other Christmas food tradition is Schaumtorte. That's Peggy's Schaumtorte with the raspberries. It is an incredibly light meringue with whipping cream and berries.

The remaining pictures are of the kids. The first is Catherine with her "little" brother, Billy. In the next picture you find the Pang twins (Alex on the left and his brother, Adam, our godson, on the right), Chelsea, and Billy. These four sat at the "kiddy" table adjacent to ours. The twins are a year younger than Billy. Catherine and Andy are in the last picture. They are the same age. Andy is in the Army reserve.

So that was our Christmas. Catherine is feeling better today perhaps because I gave her Actigrip, the magical medicine from Italy. Bill is on his way to San Francisco. And I'm just sittin' here chillin'.