Swissness

It's a beautiful day for a hike!  Nico has got it planned - we will roast sausages over a campfire that we will start with a Bic lighter we have bought.  Being from drought-ridden California, we are thrilled with the thought we won't get arrested.

The village church is so lovely, we have to take a peek inside.  Not locked of course - this is Switzerland!

The door is gorgeous in that special Swiss way with pine and simple, yet charming details in the overall  design.

The detail on the ceiling is gorgeous.

A big blue organ almost fills the loft and we can imagine the choir up there too.

The Heinzers lead the way.

We come to a herd of cows that look pretty imposing, so we scoot over to the other side of the electric fence that is keeping them in.  The meadows are strung with these portable, solar-powered movable fence lines that provide temporary pastures for cows and sheep.

Nico says these chocolate brown cows with the soft golden ears are the traditional Swiss cows.  I want to bury my face in those ears!

Wildflowers are abundant.  

We have been scouting for a fire ring to roast our sausages, but the one Nico was counting on has just been claimed by a lady shortly before we came to it. We hike on hoping to find another spot.

Nothing is quite right and so we head back to see if we might be able to join the lady and share the fire.  A whole extended family is there roasting sausages and having a grand time.  They recognize Nico and are very happy to invite us in. 

They all do the same thing with the sausages - first, find a good slim stick, then slice a deep cross into each end of the sausage, then pierce it right through the middle with the stick.  As the sausage cooks, the ends curl out and when your sausage is ready, it looks like a flower!  Pretty cool - and delicious with mustard slathered on bread,

We return home and I try to lure the sheep with some lettuce.  They are not impressed.

I have arrived with the plan of making Nico his favorite Anerican cookie, Snickerdoodles.  I have make do without cream of tartar (no one knows what it is in Germany) and I have to estimate measurements because they don't use standard measuring cups as we do in the U.S.  They weigh ingredients.

The first pan of cookies are too thin, but I make some adjustments and the rest turn out fine. Nico has been practicing his guitar in the sun but he is glad to take a cookie break. 

I'm just glad to have made a little reminder of those SLO High School days when a hungry German boy came in from school looking for a snack.  He may be a PhD student now, but Snickerdoodles still have their place. 

Another day of radiant Swissness (and a bit of Americana too).

   

What a "Fungi"

Sunday morning Hildegard departed early and Franzi left Saturday for Mannheim.  Now it was just the three of us to tackle the adventure of mushroom hunting.  Switzerland bans picking wild mushrooms from the 1st to the 10th of the month, so the 11th is the best day!

Ben and I are familiar with chanterelles, but Nico is a trained fungi hunter, thanks to his dad, Felix.

Nico finds a strange mushroom that turns  blue wherever you touch it.  He calls it "witches" something - and assures us it is delicious.  It is fun to touch the gold flesh and watch it instantly turn blue.

I find this 8 inch tall oddity, much to Nico's excitement.  It is a Parasol mushroom, and rare and much craved.  When Nico tells us he is allergic to it, I am really doubtful about taking it, but he brushes that aside and swiftly harvests it, promising he will cook it for our lunch.

It is a very successful hunt because Nico has selected an area of forest no one else visits.  It might also be because the cows have created soggy sink holes I keep getting stuck in.

We find this one red mushroom we associate with fairy tales.  It is poisonous, which would be good to know if you were Hansel or Gretel and needed to dispatch a witch.

I keep humming the tune "Edelweiss" from Sound of Music.  Nico says no one ever sees the flowers in the wild here, but we find a clump in a neighbor's garden.

The Swiss are so neat, clean, and orderly that I want to turn over a new leaf and adopt their tidy lifestyle.  Example: this wood pile that also contains flower pots.

I can't resist the adorable window sill scenes.

On the way home, the local hotel owner and guests admire our harvest.

We return to Alpenflora (the Heinzer family chalet) to be greeted by the sheep next door.  After a beer in the garden and Ben and Nico cleaning our pile of mushrooms, Nico plans the menu.  His friend Rachel has arrived earlier and has been hiking all day.  She and Nico plan to practice their guitar-accordion duets this evening.

After a gourmet meal of mushroom, potato pasta (with local cheese from the farmer above) and two salads Rachel whips up from the beets, carrots and salad on hand, we nestle in to listen to music.

Once again it is raining and thundering outside.  The tunes from Brittany cast a magic spell around us all.

St. Antönien Reunion

We last saw Nico briefly in 2011, so we were very glad when he invited us to join him and his sister, Franzi, at their family vacation home in St. Antönien (rhymes with reunion).  Hildegard drove us from Stuttgart.

The chalet was purchased by his parents, Felix and Helmttaud, when the kids were quite young, and included the old (antique!) furnishings of previous owners.

It sits above a rushing, rocky stream and sheep are grazing within arms reach.

Nico is the consummate host and gives us a selection of beds to choose from, all cosy with down covers or wool blankets.

First we take a walk up through the tiny village.  Population about 270.

Avalanche fences crisscross the steep peaks looming above.  At this house, wooden stakes are hung (they are used to stack cut hay off the ground for drying).

Host Dad Ben walks along in deep conversation with our very first exchange student, Nico.  Nico's arrival in SLO in 2003 would really mark a huge change in our lives.  He became our third son that year and his peacemaking, positive approach to discovery had a profound influence on Garrett and Noah.  It also made us want to host again... And we did...four more times.

Hildegard cheerfully joined us, though she left many responsibilities at home.

The chalets are all charming and inviting.

The Swiss have such a knack for sweet tableaux.

We stop at a cafe and the owner takes a break from watching her kids to serve us beer...

and coffee.  Franzi makes everyone feel welcome and included by her easy grace and interest. 

The hills jangle with bells on every goat, cow and sheep.  Nico assures us that this bell collection is modest and that bells can be huge, especially for parades and such.

We head back to make dinner and I admire this evening view from the kitchen window.

Nico has fresh venison liver on the menu, but wisely asked us if we like it (no!!), so he got beef steaks and homemade cheese from the farmer up the hill.  He confidently whips up a delicious dinner while I tend the steaks and make a wine sauce.

This will be the first of great local food Nico will prepare.  It starts to thunder and rain and lightening flashes and rumbles the house.  We are snug inside.

Bach in the GDR

Cheerful Frieder shows us his brave side, standing proudly on the scooter made by Aunt Theresa.  He worries not at all (like me) about the slippery wood floors in his family's light-filled, early Art Deco flat. 

Ben feeds Frieder his breakfast before his Papa takes him to his kinder program.  Frieder likes me to play peek-a-boo with him and does allow me to tote him around, but he clearly prefers Ben.

Ruth has mornings free so she takes us around the corner to rent bikes through the cool Next Bike company (founded in Leipzig) - bikes are widely available in most public places and rentable by cell phone.  She leads us  through tree-canopied green parks, past the heavily guarded US embassy and to 

Spinnerei, a former cotton mill founded in 1884.

 The mill grew into an entire community of 4000 workers and included housing and kindergartens for the mostly female workers' children.  Abandoned after reunification, the sprawling brick buildings now house artist studios.  After lunch Ruth departs for works so Ben and I have to find our own way.

It seems we check our Google Maps app every few blocks, but eventually we make it downtown where we park the bikes and visit St. Thomas Church, home of Johann Sebastian Bach. 

Bach was Music Director for 26 years until his death in 1750.  

Farmers Market is in full swing, filling the large square in front of The Rathaus (City Hall).  We buy assorted berries, the sweetest blueberries ever.  Meanwhile, Marcel is home preparing an amazing Rouladen for us.  I play with Freider and he feeds himself blueberries, making it clear he can do it himself, "danke schoen".

We arrive back at the flat in time for Ben to assist a little, but mainly to observe Marcel layer mustard, onion, diced pickle and thin lardy bacon on thinly pounded beef and then roll it into neat bundles.  He will brown the rolled beef, then braise it in a vegetable-rich beefy both.  It will be served with huge potato dumplings stuffed with bread cubes sautéed in butter.  A great red wine will accompany the meal.  Is there any doubt Ben and I have landed in heaven?