German

Rinderrouladen or rindsrouladen (I’ve seen the recipe named both ways) translates very simply to beef rolls. According to my mother, who spent a year and a half in Germany, it is a relatively popular recipe, and, while once deemed a dish for the “common” people, it is now used to feed a large group of people and considered a dish for festivities. My mother, however, did experience it more often as an everyday meal; her host mother was the first to cook it for her, but she further enjoyed the recipe when dance teachers brought rouladen to class. Read More

The sweet scent of cherry blossom mingled with warm vanilla as my mother’s arms wrapped around me, hands closing gently over mine on the rough wood. Pressing down, together we rolled out the dough, soft and warm and gooey; it stuck to the rolling pin, wrapping around it as I giggled and pulled it off. My mother’s warmth moved away, but she was back before I could glance up to look for her. Red nails with silver snowflakes sprinkled a white powder, soft but just slightly gritty, onto the sticky dough. The pains of baking in those days were small, insignificant: the cookie cutter pressing just a little too sharply into my hands; a runny nose and watery eyes, the remainder of a flour-induced sneeze; the color of the frosting being “too pink and not enough purple, Mommy”; my older sister stealing the last of the reindeer cookies; the sprinkles that coated my lips giving away my thievery… This is my prevailing memory of my first forays into the culinary world: surrounded by my mother’s loving warmth and guidance and, yes, sometimes exasperation, creating any young child’s favorite treat, and making an absolute, glorious mess while doing it. Read More