Hungry in Berlin

So, we came; we got crushed; we griped about it. Green Week at the ICC in Charlottenburg (runs through Sunday, Jan. 27) made me and the rest of the HIB team feel like cows in a herd, and offered no surprises in the way of world cuisine. While I’m well aware that most world cultures have some form of mystery meat that comes cylinder-shaped, I refuse to believe that’s the only delicacy we have to share with each other, as a form of how-do-you-do. Eaters of the world (and organizers of Green Week, listen up!), we can do better than this. I’ve never seen more sausage, air-dried, pepper-spiced, boiled or canned, than in the halls of the hulking ICC; and yes, I know I live in Germany. And while I realize that sausage travels better than, say, Peking duck or lamb on a spit or injera bread, it sells a culture short when the image they present is the one they think the audience wants to see. And that’s what makes me sad. The Green Week in Berlin is a fantastic opportunity to show how worldly and gastronomically savvy this city *could* (and should) be. But what’s on offer now falls embarrassingly short of even the most muted expectations. And so: my few highlights from a few hours of aimless wandering (and yah, we missed the livestock. My feet were pooped after just three hours.)

Pumpkin seed oil from the Steiermark region, Austria: Almost seaweed green and practically opaque, this freshly pressed oil from the area around Graz is undoubtedly the most powerful, flavorful oil I’ve ever tasted. “Steirisches Kürbiskernöl” is an EU protected name and type (like Port or Champagne) and is made from a special pumpkin with soft-shell seeds. It is worth its weight in gold, is almost as expensive, but is worth every pfennig. Found in the “Austria” hall (ICC halls 15/16).

Šakotis cake from Lithuania: This definitely gets the “trippy desert” award. “Šakotis” means “branched” in Lithuanian, which describes the shape of the cake — apparently a baker drips batter on a rotating arm, and the batter cooks/crisps as it spins, resulting in a branch-like pattern. It tastes a bit like crispy waffles (and I bet would be fantastic dipped in chocolate). The display would have been even cooler had they had an actual cooker there, but anyway, it gets serious points for presentation. (from €8 to €15, in ICC hall 8.2)

Fried lardo: At the same place Ed bought his Barolo sausages I was fed a piece of crispy fried lardo from, as per Green Week etiquette, the end of a long, sharp knife, by a swarthy young Italian lad who was both singing Italian pop and swaggering around the booth with three other swarthy Italian lads. After grabbing the lardo I got an extra hip swivel and wink. Needless to say it (the lardo) was delicious. If you’re willing to work it, ladies, you’ll eat very well in the Italian section. (ICC hall 17)

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