As a matter of fact some German terms have already become part of the
world-language--among them sauerkraut, pumpernickel and the names of
various sausages and cheeses. The most eloquent testimony to German
international influence is, however, the ubiquitous delicatessen
store. In New York there is one every few blocks, and these places
are patronized by many who are not Germans. To be sure, few of these
shops equal the originals in Munich, Dresden, or Berlin, in variety and
gorgeousness of display.
Edward Grieg, like most of the great composers, was an epicure. It is
related of him that one of his favorite amusements was to gaze at the
displays of good things in the delicatessen stores. One day, while
lingering before one of these windows he said to the American composer,
Frank Van der Stucken: "What an ideal symphony! How perfect in all its
details, in form, contents, and instrumentation!"
Grand gastronomic symphonies they are, indeed; and what is more, the
appeal of these delicacies is to the palate as well as to the eyes.
When a German pays his good money he wants something good to eat, and
if he is fooled, woe to the culprit. Strict are the laws, and enforced
they are, too. Officers of the health boards visit the stores at
unexpected times, taking away samples for chemical analysis. Fines are
inflicted for the least lack of obedience to the pure food law, while
gross offenders may be punished by life-long imprisonment with hard
labor.
The examiners, of course, visit not only the delicatessen stores but
the butcher shops, groceries, bakeries and all places where food is
offered for sale.
In Berlin there is a special institute for the inspection of foodstuffs
which is directly under the control of the police. It makes chemical
and bacteriological examinations of things offered for sale. Purchasers
who suffer from the ill effects of foodstuffs have the privilege
of applying to the police, who promptly make an examination of the
suspected article. This does not cost the complainant a penny and the
expense to the city of this invaluable institute is only about $12,000
a year.
Encouraged by the knowledge of these facts, a German may boldly enter
any delicatessen store, confident of getting things that will taste
good and do no harm. And what a variety of luxuries is spread out
before him!
Cold roast joints of all the butchers' meats are placed in line on the
counter, with hams, raw or cooked, and sausages diverse, all eager to
be sliced to suit. I say eager because these things--especially the
sausages and the hams--taste so good that it surely must give them
altruistic joy to be eaten. Cold fowl is there, too, ready for the
carving knife, or to be taken away whole. The Germans often lunch or
sup on these sliced meats, huge platterfuls of which are brought on the
table--_Gemischter Aufschnitt_--and none of it is wasted, you may be
sure.
Chicken and fish salads diverse, including herring salad, and potato
salad--one of Germany's great contributions to the world's gastronomic
treasure--are at hand, as well as another international delicacy of
Teutonic origin--sauerkraut, raw or cooked; and sauerkraut _is_ a
delicacy; nor is it indigestible when cooked the right way and long
enough. Proof of its high standing is provided by the fact that
France's gastronomic high priest, Brillat-Savarin--whose famous work on
the _Physiology of Taste_ has become so popular that a penny edition
of it is sold in the streets--puts it, with partridge, on the menu of
one of three fine dinners he suggests. The French, indeed, are almost
as much addicted to the eating of sauerkraut as are the Germans. In
England and America not a few persons foolishly sneer at it as "rotten
cabbage." It is no more rotten than pickles are rotten, for it is
simply pickled cabbage--cabbage pickled in its own juice plus salt, and
soured by fermentation.
The pickles eaten by Germans are not all sour; they like, almost better
than the sour kinds, the dill pickles, which are cucumbers preserved
in a liquid flavored with the blossoms and seeds of an umbelliferous
Oriental plant, _anethum_, cultivated in German gardens for its spicy
aroma. Teutons seem to take to this naturally; with others it is an
acquired taste, like that for olives.
Smoked or soused herrings, sprats, and diverse spiced fish (_marinirt_)
are always on sale in the delicatessen stores, and they are
acknowledged among the best specialties of Germany. Eel and other fish
in jelly are other characteristic edibles the Fatherland has reason to
be proud of; and have you ever eaten cold goose in an acidulated meat
jelly? It is worth while going to Berlin, just to taste this Prussian
_Gänseweisssauer_.
Smoked Pomeranian goosebreast is always in stock; its taste is not
unlike that of raw smoked ham and there is no danger of trichinosis,
though, to be sure, that danger from eating ham has been reduced in
Germany to a minimum by the strict system of meat inspection.
The heads and feet of calves, sheep, and swine, wild and domestic, are
much in demand; a wild boar's head often is the center of interest
in the show window of a delicatessen store. Of course there are also
canned meats and vegetables, with diverse fancy groceries and cheeses
of various countries, together with crackers and breads of diverse
shape, size, and color. But enough has been said to show that a German
delicatessen store is a treasure house of appetizing foods, many of
them peculiar to the Fatherland, and most of them agreeable to the
palate of a real gourmet.
It is possible that a thousand years hence Bismarck's fame as a
statesman may have waned; but Bismarck herring will continue to be
served in all lands until the seas are fished out. On a warm summer
day, when you are not hungry and yet feel a vague longing for something
piquant, try a Bismarck herring with potato salad. You will bless me
for the advice. It is very good for the stomach, too, the doctors say.