German food

Travel is hectic. There's just no way around it. Especially when you're travelling at the breakneck pace of a city per every three days. However, it means we get to see a lot of different food, and in so doing I've learned a lot about European (and German specifically) food. I've prepared all of the fine raw information, seasoned it to taste, and put it in the information oven, set to 375 F, 150 Celsius.

1: If at first you don't succeed at finding the tour book's promised little German eatery, staffed only by the loving patriarch of an ancient family line and overlooking their own personal stretch of the Elbe, well, there's always Döner.

What is Döner? This isn't entirely clear to me. It's a huge hock of delicious, spiced meat suspended vertically by one of the shiftiest looking heaters I've ever seen. Imagine the blinds of a window. Now imagine that they're made of metal and simultaneously on fire. And next to a rotating hunk of meat that can lure a grown man and woman three blocks.

Döner kind of tastes like beef, and since it's so hard to find those quaint and inexpensive German eateries, it's been a consistent supply of protein and vegetables from the handful or so they graciously throw on there.

Oh, and it's not necessarily a single thing either. I've ordered Döner and gotten a pizza before. That was in Köln, in the morning, on Christmas Eve. And since it was the morning (and maybe because it was Christmas Eve) they cracked and fried an egg on my vegetarian pizza, which was nice of them, unless I were vegan.

2. When you do find those quaint German establishments, be sure that you understand what you're ordering. Or rather, what you're not ordering. Those silly Germans aren't so much into side dishes, so don't be surprised when all you get is a sausage simmering in a bowl of hot water with some breads. When I looked back at the menu, I realized that was exactly what I had ordered, but I don't know, I expected a potato salad for some reason. Or maybe some sauerbraten. In retrospect, I was really grateful for the plate. After all, I hadn't specifically ordered it, and I don't know how I could have cut the sausage in that pot of boiling water. It probably would have looked really funny to everyone but me as I slipped around the sausage and stabbed at the water and splashed myself with scalding sausage water.

3. This doesn't so much relate to food, but pub crawls are fun. However, so is not destroying your urinary tract. In fact, if you decide to relieve yourself at the wrong time, you may get lost. And if you get lost in Berlin on New Year's Eve, it is at first a humbling prospect. Let's just say that I did do that - get separated from Julie on New Year's Eve, and let's just say that I had one of the single weirdest experiences of my life that night.

I ended up at a McDonald's at 4 a.m. with two girls that spoke German and broken, inebriated English, and I spoke English and broken, inebriated German. They complained about German guys, as I recall. I told them it wasn't the German-ness that was the problem. And then I found my way to my hostel, navigating the S-Bahn and everything. I'll let you try and fill in the dots inbetween the Brandenburg Gate and a McDonalds just south of Kreuzberg.