...der Ofen brennt!

As you may or may not know, the first Advent Sunday is next weekend, and in Germany, this means it's time to start baking Plätzchen. Plätzchen are biscuits of all shapes and flavours - vanilla, chocolate, lemon, cinnamon, aniseed, rum, amaretto, orange, you name it, we bake it. There are no rules as to what you can bake, but they should remain fresh until Christmas. The real problem is that they usually get eaten in the meantime and then you need to bake some more.

Because four hands bake more than two, Sonja and I decided to get down to business together. Each Tuesday during the Advent season will be Plätzchen day. We pick two different recipes and make a double batch of each. At the same time, we're having fun. Sometimes too much fun. As you can see, some angels were closer to the red light district than to Heaven (although some might claim there's no difference between the two).

I've decided to document each batch of Plätzchen in a blog series called The Baking Inferno (expect blog updates on Wednesdays). Last Tuesday, Sonja made Zitronenkekse (Lemon biscuits) and I made a classic of the Yugoslav baking tradition, Vanilice (German translation would be Vanillchen, and English Little vanilla biscuits). It turned out that we make a great team as both batches were tasty, looked good and were quick to make (four batches took us four hours which I think is OK).

Here are the pictures plus recipes (the measures will be given in metric units only; if you can't follow, I suggest you get to grips with the metric system - you will boost your general knowledge and stop feeling like you're still living in the 19th century):

Zitronenkekse

250 g soft butter

135 g sugar

1 egg

1 sachet of lemon zest (we used Finesse by Dr Oetker)

150 g flour

1/2 teaspoon salt

lemon icing

different food colours

biscuit jewellery

Of course, you can scrape the zest off a real lemon, but this was a children's recipe so they were probably thinking the simpler the better. Basically you need to make a cookie dough of the first six ingredients and leave it in the fridge for an hour. Roll out the dough and take out different shapes with Christmas baking forms (we used angels, stars, Christmas trees and my favourite - sheep!). Bake at 200° C for 10 minutes.

In the meantime prepare the icing from icing sugar, water and lemon juice (we used ready-made). Dye it with different food colourings (we used red to get pink). Glaze the biscuits and decorate with smarties, sugar pearls or whatever you may prefer. Leave to dry.

Vanilice

125 g finely ground wallnuts (or almonds or hazelnuts)

125 g sugar

125 g lard (at room temperature)

4 eggs

flour

apricot jam

vanilla sugar

icing sugar

Vanilice are called little vanilla biscuits because they're bite-sized. A round form the size of a 2-euro coin is used to make them. We didn't have one. We wanted to be done as soon as possible. That is why we made huge vanilla biscuits with a big heart-shaped form.

Mix lard with sugar, add eggs, then wallnuts. Mix in enough flour to make cookie-like dough (not giving precise measures is typical for the Balkan cuisine; the recipes are passed down from generation to generation. I learned to cook and bake by watching my mother and grandmother; by the time I started cooking myself I already had enough experience to know what is meant by "add as much flour as the dough will soak in" and to be able to recognize the consistency of cookie dough when it's firm enough and ready for rolling). Roll out the dough with a rolling pin until it's about 5 mm thin. Take out shapes with a form, put them on a baking sheet and bake at 200° C until they start changing colour (10 to 15 minutes). When they're done, leave to cool for a while. Take a biscuit, smear one side with a very thin layer of apricot jam and "glue" another biscuit on top of it. Prepare a mixture of icing and vanilla sugar (one sachet of vanilla sugar per one cup of icing sugar), roll the vanilica in sugar until it's well-coated from all sides and leave to cool completely. They are best eaten after two to three days as they become softer.

P.S. I had forgotten to mention the eggs in Vanilice recipe. I've changed it now. You need to mix them into the dough before adding the flour.

... and I was there to photograph it!

It was a wonderful day and I only regret that my friends don't get married more often - still too many singles out there. Girls, take a look at the lovely photos I took - it's enough to make you wanna put a ring on it straight away (well, don't get married only because of the photos, that would probably be unwise).

The portraits were taken in pouring rain, under a colonnade near the Karlsruhe palace (at the Finanzamt building to be more precise and less romantic) while Marlene was dancing in puddles. You don't need the perfect weather to make the couple look happy and in love. I almost lost my camera on the way home but that's a different story (and sharing it would put me through unnecessary emotional distress, so let's just forget it, OK?).

There are another couple of photos on my Flickr stream. And a bit of technical info: I used the fog filter on several portraits as well as the 6x star filter on the last photo. I use available light whenever possible. The only photo taken with flash (bounced off the ceiling) is the one of the wedding cake. In post-processing I used several textures (sometimes combined) and added some blurring effects.

Yesterday we took part in a St. Martin's procession - for the first time ever. Una carried her lantern with pride!

If you wish to know more about Martinstag, Wikipedia has the answers.

Una's lantern wasn't very chic, but still - handmade. This was my first attempt ever at making one.

Yes, I used the Backpapier box for support!

Carsten (Rasmus' dad) is carrying the horse-shaped lantern that won the Senfkorn prize.

As soon as the procession set off, it started to rain. But the kids loved it.

Here is Zoey with her pretty pink lantern. The orange streetlights made everything look, well, orange.

Another lovely handmade lantern with its proud owner.

By the time the procession was over, most of our maple leaves had fallen off, but Una didn't seem to mind. She held on to her lantern even while the rest of us were enjoying alcohol-free Glühwein on the street.

It is a fact well-known that Germany is well below the EU standard when it comes to daycare (or schools, for that matter; check out the Pisa studies) but if anyone had told me, a year ago, that I'd be now fighting for my kid to get into a Catholic kindergarten, I would have laughed my head off.

The story so far: Una will turn three in December 2010. She should then start kindergarten. To get a kindergarten place before the age of three is next to impossible; one needs to apply even before the child is born. But for three-year-olds, a kindergarten place is guaranteed by law. There are no guarantees, however, that the child will be given a place in the vicinity of one's home address. Therefore, I've been trying to secure her a place in one of the kindergartens in the 2-mile radius since last winter.

We first applied at kindergarten Aufwind, two minutes' walk away from home. This is an AWO* kindergarten, brand new and quite small. It is the only kindergarten in City Park, the newly-built quarter with thousands of inhabitants (the number is growing by the month with new blocks of flats being built as we speak). It is also a facility where children of the PSD bank workers have priority. The PSD bank (located 100 m away from the kindergarten) is currently building a new wing where hundreds of new clerks will move in within the next few months and with the kindergarten capacity of 20-30 children (wouldn't know exactly as I only see the kids when they're playing in the garden) it's not difficult to get a picture of Una's chances of being accepted. At the time of application, we were not given a possibility of visiting the kindergarten. We were told that they wouldn't be able to let us know if we're in or not before Summer 2010.

The second kindergarten we tried to apply for was the kindergarten in Frühlingstraße, owned by the city of Karlsruhe. Although their website states that they accept children aged 3+, the kindergarten manager who met us in the hallway said that they won't accept children older than two and that all the places are taken anyway, so we weren't even given the opportunity to apply.

The third one was also a city kindergarten in Sybelstraße, a huge facility with places for 103 children. Here it was possible to visit the kindergarten and fill out the application form after the visit, which we did. And that's about the only positive thing I can say about it. The manager was very candid about the almost non-existant possibility of any child under three getting a place there, whereas the chances for kids that are 3 or older are "somewhat better". I asked when it would be possible to get information about whether our application is accepted, she replied that she doesn't know and "when a place becomes available". I asked when Una could start going if she gets accepted, and she gave me the exact same answer. She said that the waiting list is somewhere between 60 and 80 children at the moment. I also asked if it would be possible for them to forward us to the next nearest kindergarten with a free place, should we get a rejection and was told that such an exchange of information between kindergartens in this part of the city does not exist.

Although they seemed completely disorganised and frankly overwhelmed by the number of children they have to take care of (only two workers are taking care of a group of 22 children crammed into a space the size of our living room) I find it difficult to blame them - it is the local government that's responsible for this sorry state of affairs. Why build a new city quarter and house thousands of people there if you're not prepared to provide them a kindergarten, a school, or even a supermarket?

The fourth kindergarten I got in contact with was the one in Augartenstraße, owned by the Lutheran church. I spoke on the phone with a helpful and friendly woman who offered me to come by any day, fill out a form and make an appointment for a visit. I plan to do this although Augartenstraße is pretty far away from where we live.

The fifth kindergarten is actually my favourite - the Catholic kindergarten Unsere Liebe Frau in Baumeisterstraße, a ten minutes' walk away from us. I applied for a visit with a tour of the kindergarten which will take place on 30 November. The woman I spoke with was also extremely helpful and full of understanding. When I complained that no one was willing to give me any concrete information about what our chances are and when we will know whether our application was accepted, she told me that they would certainly let us know by February next year. The friendliness and straightforwardness was in accordance with what I'd heard about them before - it's supposed to be one of the best daycare facilities in Karlsruhe. They have a huge garden for children to play in, but unfortunately only 44 places and the demand is huge.

Keep your fingers crossed for Una. Getting a kindergarten place in Karlsruhe is a matter of luck more than anything else.

*AWO is an organization that offers social services, be it kindergartens, assisted living facilites or help for the disabled.

About the photo: Kindergarten Aufwind and Bürgerzentrum in City Park. If you ask me, the huge and mostly unoccupied rooms of the Bürgerzentrum should be converted into a kindergarten. However, someone in the city government thinks that the women who do pilates in the mornings, the dancers who have their practice there in the evenings, and anyone who's ready to pay three thousand euros to rent the hall for their wedding are more important than children.

...in spite of my undying love towards the English language and culture, my heart belongs to France. I've spent years trying to ignore my feelings, but they've become reinvigorated of late, so much so that I've had to confess my love in public. I love every city, every street, every stone village that smells of saucissons drying in the attics. I'm infatuated with every dialect, every word, even laughter sounds better in French. Bring on the snails, the frogs, the duck lard, the balou, the parisienne, the pain-au-chocolat, the smelliest of cheeses - I can't get enough of it! And yes - and this is what really puts francophilia to the test - I even like the French people, no matter how arrogant, egoistic and self-sufficient (on the other hand - can you blame them?) it's all forgiven because of the laissez-faire, because they don't count the calories, nor how many glasses of bordeaux they've had, because they know how to enjoy life and generally don't take it all too seriously.

I bloom once I've crossed the border, I feel ten years younger when I roam the streets of Strasbourg. I remember having a tisane in a street cafe in Dijon and thinking, I could spend the rest of my life here. I could die happy under a fig tree in Provence. France is life as you learn to appreciate it after you've matured into a wise and self-assured person.

P.S. What I've just written was inspired by today's lunch consisting of a particularly fine slice of camembert accompanied by black olives à la provençale.