The forest that launched a thousand cakes

I may have mentioned somewhere amid the feverish horsepower-worship of my earlier post that Oskar the Beemer was actually taking us somewhere. Our destination was the Black Forest, a few hours’ drive west of Munich in the neighbouring state of Baden-Württemburg. Ja, that Black Forest. The one with all the cake and ham and schnapps. I hope you’re not too hungry while reading this ‘cos there will be lots of lurid food description.

Punit had to catch his flight back home on Sunday afternoon, so we decided to get a head start on Friday night by driving to Stuttgart. I can’t decide what was worse, the weather or the traffic, but I was in my Beemer + Autobahn honeymoon period, so nothing was bothering me a great deal at that point. By the time we got to Stuttgart it was quite late, and it was rainy and cold. We ended up getting an early night to save our energy for the days ahead.

I will recount one incident, though, which took place while ordering drinks over a late dinner:

Punit: *looking at the menu* Hmmm… helles, radler, dunkles, … ah, weissbier. Wait. It only says 0.3L on this menu.
Waitress: Anything to drink?
Punit: Er… can I get half a litre of weissbier?
Waitress: *raises an eyebrow* Er… no?
Punit: Really? No… really?
Waitress: Sorry.
Punit: Wtf.

Do you need half a litre of beer to wash down dinner? Probably not. Is one month in Bavaria enough to get so used to ordering by the half-litre that any smaller amount seems just a tad stingy? Apparently.

On Saturday morning we grabbed breakfast on the go and started the drive into the Black Forest. Our first stop was the famous spa town of Baden-Baden.

“It is an inane town, filled with sham, and petty fraud, and snobbery, but the baths are good. I fully believe I left my rheumatism in Baden-Baden. Baden-Baden is welcome to it.” – Mark Twain, A Tramp Abroad

Jetsetter types like Bill Clinton and Posh Spice come to Baden-Baden to open up their very rich, very famous pores and be pummelled by water jets and masseurs. The most famous spa there, Friedrichsbad, has been ushering bliss-seekers through its sixteen-step relaxation process since Mark Twain visited over 120 years ago. Clothing of any sort is forbidden during any of these sixteen stages.

Being a little too modest for Freidrichsbad, we  headed for another bathhouse named Caracalla Therme, where swimsuits are mandatory rather than verboten. We spent a languid couple of hours floating from cold water to warm to hot and back again, having all our little aches and pains massaged by a hundred different kinds of water jets, and being coaxed gently anticlockwise by a whirlpool. It wasn’t Friedrichsbad, but it was still pretty damn relaxing.

There are places in Baden-Baden where you need to be wearing a jacket and tie or formals just to get in, but you certainly don’t need to be as rich as the Beckhams to enjoy the place. It’s a pretty little town just to explore on foot, and you can do as we did and just pick up a döner on the street if you get the munchies.



Our next stop on our Black Forest drive was to visit this charming young lad:



In Tim Burton’s version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, the scenes of Augustus Gloop’s home town of Düsseldorf were in fact shot in the Black Forest town of Gengenbach. When we got there, we could see why – walking the cobblestones of its main square, surrounded by quaint, freshly-painted old half-timbered houses, felt a little bit like being inside a postcard.



Gengenbach is also the place where we decided to finally take the plunge and become Black Forest cake snobs for life. We stopped in at a little café and ordered a slice of Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte, as it’s called in German. From the moment the first bit of cake touched our tongues Punit and I entered a state of cherry-and-cream-induced bliss. Black Forest cake from the Black Forest is much lighter and airier than the kind you get in the US or Australia. It’s sweet enough to be delicious, but as I’ve noticed with many German desserts, they hold off on the sweetness and denseness just enough to leave you wanting more.

It was a brilliant, yet tragic experience. Brilliant because my tastebuds were turning cartwheels of joy. Tragic because from now on, eating Black Forest cake is totally going to be a situation where I’ll be channelling my friend Jon (hi Jon!). Jon likes to imitate people who’ve gone travelling somewhere, and then once they’re back vocally and unfavourably compare any dish of that cuisine they eat in their home town to the standard they experienced in its place of origin. He puts on this snotty voice and says (for example) “When I was in Gengenbach, I had the most divine Black Forest cake. I tell you, it was to die for.” It doesn’t sound that funny when I type it, you have to be there. But anyway. The long and short of it is, you don’t want to be there when I eat any Black Forest cake ever again, because I’m going to be a total jerk about it.

We also tried Neuer Wein (new wine), a drink that’s available in wine-producing regions during the autumn harvest period. When wine growers are sorting the grapes, they keep aside the ones that aren’t going to make the cut for fancy aged wines, and use them to brew a refreshing, unaged, still-fermenting drink that tastes a little like a very sweet, light sparkling wine. It has to be drunk within a few days of production since it ferments fast. It was delicious! Unfortunately I could only have a few sips since I was on point to drive a very expensive car right afterwards. But here is Punit posing with the spoils of our Gengenbach gustatory adventure. The reason he doesn’t have a totally goofy grin on his face here is that the cake was still untasted at this point.



Once we were done being cake-eaters (quack! quack!), we got back in Oskar and headed on. I should mention that the landscape we were driving through was really spectacular. The road south meandered through beautiful, emerald green valleys, ringed by gentle hills that were bursting into a riot of autumn colour.  Even the factory smoke puffing from the industrial chimneys dotted along the route managed to look somewhat picturesque. With that kind of scenery, those kind of wheels, and my totally l33t driving $k1llz0rZ, we could have filmed a nice car commercial.

Next we visited the little town of Triberg, which is tourist central of the Black Forest. You will know you’re almost there when you see the sign in English directing you to “WORLD’S BIGGEST CUCKOO CLOCK”. When we got there around 6pm, though, it was relatively peaceful and most of the souvenir shops were shut.

The main reason for our stop in Triberg was to see Germany’s highest waterfall. Niagara it ain’t, but it’s still quite pretty, especially with the fall colours in full swing. It’s not one giant cascade but rather a series of them connected in a stream that meanders down a big hill. There’s a small trail that criss-crosses the falls several times as it snakes up the hillside.



We would have stayed longer admiring the falls, if at that point the weather gods hadn’t decide to step up their constant sprinkling into full-blown hail. On the up side, this did give us a little taste of what the Black Forest must look like in winter:



By the time we made it to Freiburg, our overnight stop, it was well past dark. Freiburg is the biggest town in the Black Forest and home to the local university, so we figured it would be a fun place to spend the night.

We checked into our totally sweet and kick-ass hotel room (right on the main cathedral square!) and headed out to fill our tummies. I’m not sure what was going on in Freiburg that particular weekend, but we were literally turned away by at least half a dozen restaurants before we found one that was uncrowded enough to take us. I thought Seattle was a pain on Saturday nights, and this place has one-fifth of the population. By the time we found a place that would take us, we were pretty damn hungry.

Luckily, the restaurant we ended up at more than satisfied our growling stomachs. We finally got to eat fancy-pants German food – the existence of which until now I was not fully aware of. So far in Munich, any remotely fancy food I’d eaten had been Italian or French. My idea of German food was a big fat schweinshaxe or hendl to go with your maß. Delicious, bestimmt, but not particurly ‘oigh brow.

Our dinner in Freiburg was a revelation of what German food can be. I had rabbit, Punit had venison, it was all amazing. I want to mention is the dessert we had, which was called Tannenhonig-Parfait. This is a specialty of the Black Forest that I have never seen offered at restaurants in Munich. Tannenhonig is a very dark-coloured, delicate honey from the silver fir tree. They use this as the flavour base for an icecreamy-yoghurty substance that is then covered in marzipan, and served with hot cherries. Oh. My. Lord. If you think you can only eat one dessert per day that makes your knees weak, you should come to the Black Forest.

Since living in Bavaria causes you to grow a separate stomach compartment for beer, we then headed to a brewpub to sample the local brews and check out Freiburg’s student night life. I tried the banana-weizen, or banana-flavoured wheat beer. It was pretty delicious – the beer had the body and sweet thickness that you would expect of anything that has banana injected into it! The bar had a very Seattle-like, sedate, laidback atmosphere, which I guess is not surprising for a brewpub.

In Freiburg  we were able to observe the German Permi-Student Phenomenon firsthand. Germany is famous for its uni students still being at school about five years after you would have expected them to graduate in any other country. Despite it being a university town, I still felt like one of the youngest people there.

The next morning, we woke up to the wonderful view from our hotel room:



We had to hurry back to Munich for Punit’s flight, but we had a little time left to walk the streets by daylight. Freiburg is certainly a town that was built with TLC. In most towns, the footpath is simply made up of plain concrete blocks or cobblestones. Freiburg’s sidewalks are paved with tiny colourful stones forming a mosaic beneath your feet. You can still tell where the pharmacy, butcher and baker used to be centuries ago, because in front of many shop doors is a special mosaic depicting the logo of that profession!



Our final act in the Black Forest was to climb the grapevine-covered hill of Schlossberg to get a view out over the city.



And then, after an uneventful drive back to Munich, Punit’s unexpected month in Bavaria was over. With our farewells said, I was back to being an Urmi of One!