In the last couple of months, I’ve travelled to Germany, the Czech Republic, England, and Italy. Unsurprisingly, I’ve been exhausted transferring from train to plane and back again. Thankfully, food and drink and the wonderful interactions I’ve had with friends over both have made it all worth it. My meals in the eight cities I’ve visited have led to me believe that food is one of the best ways we can communicate and learn about each other. Germany, the first country I saw outside of France, helped illuminate this truth.

 

Munich, Germany

Like many American students studying abroad, I found myself in Munich for Oktoberfest at the beginning of October. Before I boarded my train to Deutschland, I read many news articles congratulating Germany on its response to the Syrian refugee crisis. Incredibly, Germany had just announced that it would take in 800,000 refugees and many of them were already starting to arrive at München Hauptbahnhof to welcoming crowds. After a confusing train experience, I too arrived at München Hauptbahnhof and was overwhelmed by waves of English, German, Russian, and other languages I couldn’t quite pick up. Immediately, I saw and heard what politicians envisioned when they coined Willkommenskultur, or “welcome culture,” to attract people to move and work to Germany (Akrap). Though Germany has opened its doors more out of a necessity to replenish its declining workforce than out of pure altruism, the unsolicited help I received at the train station, on the metro, and on the streets gave me a glimpse of why exactly Germany would host an event like Oktoberfest.

Oktoberfest began in 1810 to celebrate the marriage of Crown Prince Ludwig and Princess Therese of Saxony-Hildburghausen. The festivities, fast-paced horse races, took place in front of the city gates and continued year after year, evolving into what has become the world’s largest international festival (Munich). In 2011, for example, 6.9 million visitors drank an estimated 1.98 million gallons of beer (Chappel). Clearly, you’re not off if you picture giant glasses of beer when you think of Oktoberfest. In 1818, the first few small beer stands appeared and by 1896 they were replaced with the giant tents we’re now familiar with. Today, there are 14 beer tents that each house thousands of people and they all proudly abide by Germany’s rich beer history.

 

In April 1516, Bavarian co-rulers Duke Wilhelm IV and Duke Ludwig X issued a decree that allowed government in feudal Bavaria and later all of Germany to regulate the ingredients that went into beer and the processes used to make it. Known as the Reinheitsgebot, this law stipulated that only beer, water, and hops could be used to make beer sold to the public (German Beer Institute ). These Bavarian leaders wanted to ensure the safety and quality of beer and prevent animals, roots, and mushrooms from entering the prized beverage. In 1906, a modified version Reinheitsgebot, one that allowed yeast and malted wheat, became official German law, and in 1919 it was incorporated into German tax law (German Beer Institute ). Though Reinheitsgebot is still a part of German tax law, the European Court struck down Reinheitsgebot because it was seen as a restraint of free trade. As a result, beers imported into Germany can now legally have corn, rice, non-malted grains, and sugars, but as a matter of pride and national heritage, German brewers still adhere to the purity of the Reinheitsgebot.

 

I tried a half liter of this centuries’ old tradition on my first night in Munich. My friends and I entered a traditional looking restaurant in the city’s center and were relieved to be handed English menus and promptly greeted by a waitress who electronically took our order. Our table had long benches and we were seated next to another large group. In fact, the restaurant seemed full of large groups who were in the middle of the meal or who were nursing second or third beers after their plates had been cleared. The restaurant was loud, a stark contrast from the dining experiences I’d had in France, and strangers in town for Oktoberfest were cheerfully engaging each other. Eating here seemed to be a more animated social activity.

 

My dark beer arrived first and though it was heavy, it was tasty and helped quench my thirst. Interestingly, I could only buy beer by the liter or half liter. We received our food less than 20 minutes later and when I looked down at my “Bavarian Peasants Feast” I knew I hadn’t made a mistake. The meal consisted of sausage, pork, sauerkraut, and potatoes doused in thick sauces. It was heavier than the French cuisine I had eaten in Paris and Angers. It was heavier and simpler in presentation as well.

 

This is not surprising considering that the per-capita consumption of pork in 2011 was 39.2 kg, 11.5 kg for poultry, 8.6 kg for beef and veal and .6 kg for lamb (The Beef Site ). Germany has meat heavy cuisine, but this by no means makes it inferior to French cuisine. In fact, Germany is second to France in terms of number of Michelin- starred restaurants and has historically fused French and Italian cuisine into its dishes (McGavin) (Fehling). According to the Cambridge World History of Food, Italian and other Mediterranean foodstuffs infiltrated Germany through the Rhine River and other trade routes during the Roman Empire and continued long after (Kiple and Ornelas). It is from these regions that Germany received many of its spices and cooking techniques. Just as the German dinner table is a place for different cultures to come together, so too, are the dishes of this meal. Perhaps it was just the beer, but at that dinner, the warm and hearty food and beer, enhanced the warm and comfortable vibe at our table. The conversation flowed quite pleasantly.

 

The next day, we picked up a quick breakfast at a bakery on our way to Oktoberfest. Immediately, I noticed that many of the pastries were bigger, darker, and nuttier than their French counterparts and that to-go coffee was an acceptable option. I didn’t know this at the time, but the variety in the shop could probably be traced back to Germany’s deep historical relationship with breads. Germany’s full range of climatic conditions allows all types of grains to be grown. This likely influenced why German bakers submitted 3,000 significantly different bread recipes for the country’s application to make Germany Bread a UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage (Fraczek). More specifically, Germany has 300 varieties of dark and white breads as well as 1,200 varieties of rolls and mini-breads (Station). By far, Germany’s most well known grain is rye, a grain closely related to wheat and barely, and that has been a staple of central and Eastern Europe since the Middle Ages. The dark bread rye yields differs from the white and starchy ciabatta and baguette breads of France and Italy (Hannon). As Germany’s efforts to immortalize its bread through UNESCO suggests, the country’s dark bread is another source of national pride. As with beer, Germans have resisted impure white breads in favor of their healthier, more traditional offerings. For example, in the 19^th century, when white dinner rolls became popular in Germany, the “Life Reform” movement arose to revive darker breads (Hannon). Today, this pride is still strong: There are an estimated 47 bakeries per 100,000 inhabitants in Germany—a large ratio compared to the 7 bakeries per 100,000 in Ireland (Goethe Institut ).

 

It was no surprise then that the line in the bakery I stumbled upon was long and that the people behind the counter were busy taking breads out of the oven, wrapping them in paper, and then delivering them to customers. I opted for a croissant that was less flaky than what I had experienced in France, but no less delicious. My coffee was warm in my hand, but not too warm thanks to the cardboard coffee sleeve the attendant gave me. My fascination with to-go coffee probably speaks more about my coffee addiction than about German culture, but there was a part of me that appreciated this small reminder of home. It made me think of other ways German dining was like American dining throughout my stay. During lunch later that day, when I had a beef soup with a thick, dark broth, these similarities became more apparent. The food came out quickly. Loud talking and big parties were encouraged. Large beverages were standard with meals. The portions were larger and thicker.

Despite these surface similarities, Oktoberfest revealed one of the biggest differences. When we first entered the fairgrounds, we were instantly greeted with the smell of cinnamon, sugary breads, and fruits. People were dressed in dirndls and lederhosens and merrily went from carnival ride to carnival ride. If the weather was warmer and the people had been dressed in jeans and t-shirts instead of traditional German garb, I would’ve thought I was at the Texas state fair. However, when we neared the back of the fairgrounds and the giant beer tents emerged, I knew I was in for an entirely different and more international experience. The second you step into a tent you are overwhelmed (and quite frankly impressed) by the number of people who fit within the hundreds of boxes inside. Arms, legs, heads, and liters of beer flay and pop out of every single one and the entire tent is filled with laughter, shouting, and tipsy conversation. You can barely walk in the aisles. My friends and I were lucky enough to find some empty spots by a group of French and Italian people. Immediately, they welcomed us after we exchanged names and began having small talk. I couldn’t help but notice that strangers were meeting and getting to know each other at each of the different tables as well. We each ordered a liter of light beer and a pretzel. I had planned on having an actual lunch but the heaviness of the beer and the pretzel made me so full and warm. In the center of the tent, a German man and women were singing American songs and entertaining the crowd. As the morning wore on, people started singing and putting their arms around each other’s shoulders as they stood on their benches.

 

As I looked around, I was taken aback by the groups of Italians, Americans, Germans, Britons, Australians, Canadians and so many others who were enjoying the beer and bread our German hosts had offered us. The thought crossed my mind that Germany would host the world’s largest party and it would be a rowdy, happy affair. The country that has agreed to take in 800,000 Syrian refugees would enjoy sharing its warm, filling delicacies with the rest of us and make us feel right at home. I couldn’t imagine a celebration as international as this happening back home in America—at least not right now as we struggle for the third or fourth year in a row to figure out how to compassionately address undocumented immigrants in our country. Not now when we can barely get along with ourselves. I’m not simple-minded enough to think that German beer and German bread has solved all of Germany’s problems or that it’s the reason why millions of people flock to Oktoberfest every year or that it has rendered the German people compassionate enough to open its borders. But I do think that their pride in such pure foods and their willingness to offer it to the rest of the world is commendable. By welcoming us to their table, Germany spoke volumes about their practicality, openness to the world, and the role they believe food could play in furthering that mindset.

 

 

Bibliography

Akrap, Doris. “Germany’s response to the refugee crisis is admirable. But I fear it cannot last.” The Guardian 6 September 2015 .

 

Chappel, Bill. “Oktoberfest Tallies 7.5 Million Litres of Beer; Lost and Found Office Is Busy .” NPR 11 October 2011 .

 

Fehling, Kevin. “Germany has its Tenth Three-Star Chef .” 7 11 2012. Manger Magazin . <http://www.manager-magazin.de/lifestyle/genuss/a-865944.html>.

 

Fraczek, Jennifer. “German bread vies for UNESCO recognition.” Deutsche Welle 26 February 2014 .

 

German Beer Institute . “German Beer Primer for Beginners .” 2008 . 9 November 2015 <http://www.germanbeerinstitute.com/beginners.html>.

 

Goethe Institut . German bread: one institution that has not crumbled. April 2009 . 9 November 2015 <http://www.goethe.de/ins/gb/lp/prj/mtg/typ/bro/en4539763.htm>.

 

Hannon, Molly. German Bread: The Dark Truth. 12 August 2011. 9 November 2015 <http://www.npr.org/sections/nprberlinblog/2011/08/12/139552924/german-bread-the-dark-truth>.

 

Kiple, Kenneth F. and Kriemhild Conee Ornelas. “V.c.5. Northern Europe – Germany and Surrounding Regions.” Cambridge World History of Foods. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000.

McGavin, Jennifer. “Introduction to Germany and German Food.” About Food . 9 November 2015 <http://germanfood.about.com/od/introtogermanfood/a/introtoger.htm>.

 

Munich, City of. “The History of Oktoberfest .” 2015 . Muenchen . <http://www.muenchen.de/int/en/events/oktoberfest/history.html>.

 

Station, Flour. German Bread: A Rye Look . 4 June 2014 . 9 November 2015 <http://www.jamieoliver.com/news-and-features/features/german-bread-rye-look/#zyKK4EUPFBGq6S3m.97>.

 

The Beef Site . “InterMeat 2012: German Meat Consumption Remains Stable – See more at: http://www.thebeefsite.com/news/40008/intermeat-2012-german-meat-consumption-remains-stable/#sthash.FZrMhcwU.dpuf.” 28 September 2012. The Beef Site . 10 November 2015 <http://www.thebeefsite.com/news/40008/intermeat-2012-german-meat-consumption-remains-stable/>.