die Küche - the kitchen
down the street from our house is a little store front/cafe called The Kitchen. it is in english, so i am naturally drawn to it. i check the chalkboard menu whenever i go past for something that will tempt me enough to brave yet another unfamiliar shopping/eating territory. it is highly possible that the english name on the sign is the only english i will encounter should i enter. and the place is really classy looking - one of my top fear inducing aethetics, even more so than run-down and dirty looking. here there may be snobbish people. and i don't do well with snobbish people.
well, as with most all of my new adventures, i am driven by need, not want, into The Kitchen. they sell kitchen gadgets, as well as food, and i need a cheese grater - not a popular german utensil. i pass by once, thinking there might be a less nice looking place to buy a grater down the street, but there are only equally nice looking places, so i turn back. there is a menu item that has sparked my interest. jamaican carrot soup. i love carrot soup. i am intrigued, but had i not needed a grater i would have passed it up. too fancy, and the soup is probably too fancy too, i would have thought.
i enter and quickly busy myself looking at the gadgets, but as i suspect, there is a severe faced, crew cut coiffeured, billowy designer tunic wearing woman coming at me. her expensive heals tapping the stone floor with purpose. she looks directly at me, so i look at the floor. she says, unsmiling and in english, "whole foods is my favorite store!"
what? i think. oh! i am carrying my whole foods grocery bag. quick say something! she's looking at you like you are an imbecile.
"oh? do you have whole foods here?" stupid. i know they don't.
"oh, no, but i go every time i am home. everything i buy comes from whole foods" she says and sucks down the last of her cigarette. funny, i don't remember whole foods selling dunhills. "where are you from?" she asks, the smoke from her words hitting me in the face.
"california," i say, "and you?" she has the strangest german accent i have ever heard so i am curious where this "home" is and why they have whole foods there and not in berlin.
"new york city." she says. duh. has it really been so long since speaking to a new yorker that i can't identify the accent? is there anyone in the world as stupid as me right now?
"oh, i have family there." i say and try not to be sick to my stomach as she lights another dunhill and blows the smoke in my face once again. "what brought you to berlin?"
"i fell in love with a german man. got married. fell in love with germany. got divorced. stayed." each sentence puctuated with a sip on the cigarette.
"we're here for business. my husband is working here for 6 months." i say, looking for a place to stand outside of her direct line of smoke. she looks me up and down.
"let me tell you about this place," she says and proceeds to tell me that this is a "gourmet" (like i couldn't tell) berlin version of Dean and Deluca. she obviously is happy to have someone with whom to use the reference. as she describes the menu and take away items i warm up to her. she seems harsh yet vulnerable in the way only a displaced new yorker can. i can tell she is enjoying speaking english, but she is also watching the cash register fiercely. i ask about cheese graters and she says she'll have them in next week. i am starting to get nauseous from her smoke and the other patrons' so i ask if there is jamaican carrot soup to take away.
"you should eat it here honey, we have a nice relish to go with it." again with the smoke in the face.
"thanks, but in california there is no smoking allowed inside restaurants, and i'm having a hard time getting used to there being smoke everywhere here." i say.
"oh, don't get used to it. it's a disgusting habit and no one should have to get used to other people's bad habits."
she stares at me for a little while, apparently sizing me up. i guess i passed her test because finally she says "honey, you gotta promise me you'll cut up some pears or apple to cut the spice, it has a real kick. you know what? let me just put some of my pears in a little container for you." and off she flows to get my pears.
when she returns i buy my container of soup, and she places it and the pears into my bag. "my food in a whole foods bag, it's like a dream come true."
i leave The Kitchen and take a deep breath. the air is cold and not as refreshing as i'd like. interesting, i think to myself as i head to the run-down and dirty looking organic food store for tofu, you never know who you're going to meet here. i braved my fear of the classy looking and got some really good soup too!
well, as with most all of my new adventures, i am driven by need, not want, into The Kitchen. they sell kitchen gadgets, as well as food, and i need a cheese grater - not a popular german utensil. i pass by once, thinking there might be a less nice looking place to buy a grater down the street, but there are only equally nice looking places, so i turn back. there is a menu item that has sparked my interest. jamaican carrot soup. i love carrot soup. i am intrigued, but had i not needed a grater i would have passed it up. too fancy, and the soup is probably too fancy too, i would have thought.
i enter and quickly busy myself looking at the gadgets, but as i suspect, there is a severe faced, crew cut coiffeured, billowy designer tunic wearing woman coming at me. her expensive heals tapping the stone floor with purpose. she looks directly at me, so i look at the floor. she says, unsmiling and in english, "whole foods is my favorite store!"
what? i think. oh! i am carrying my whole foods grocery bag. quick say something! she's looking at you like you are an imbecile.
"oh? do you have whole foods here?" stupid. i know they don't.
"oh, no, but i go every time i am home. everything i buy comes from whole foods" she says and sucks down the last of her cigarette. funny, i don't remember whole foods selling dunhills. "where are you from?" she asks, the smoke from her words hitting me in the face.
"california," i say, "and you?" she has the strangest german accent i have ever heard so i am curious where this "home" is and why they have whole foods there and not in berlin.
"new york city." she says. duh. has it really been so long since speaking to a new yorker that i can't identify the accent? is there anyone in the world as stupid as me right now?
"oh, i have family there." i say and try not to be sick to my stomach as she lights another dunhill and blows the smoke in my face once again. "what brought you to berlin?"
"i fell in love with a german man. got married. fell in love with germany. got divorced. stayed." each sentence puctuated with a sip on the cigarette.
"we're here for business. my husband is working here for 6 months." i say, looking for a place to stand outside of her direct line of smoke. she looks me up and down.
"let me tell you about this place," she says and proceeds to tell me that this is a "gourmet" (like i couldn't tell) berlin version of Dean and Deluca. she obviously is happy to have someone with whom to use the reference. as she describes the menu and take away items i warm up to her. she seems harsh yet vulnerable in the way only a displaced new yorker can. i can tell she is enjoying speaking english, but she is also watching the cash register fiercely. i ask about cheese graters and she says she'll have them in next week. i am starting to get nauseous from her smoke and the other patrons' so i ask if there is jamaican carrot soup to take away.
"you should eat it here honey, we have a nice relish to go with it." again with the smoke in the face.
"thanks, but in california there is no smoking allowed inside restaurants, and i'm having a hard time getting used to there being smoke everywhere here." i say.
"oh, don't get used to it. it's a disgusting habit and no one should have to get used to other people's bad habits."
she stares at me for a little while, apparently sizing me up. i guess i passed her test because finally she says "honey, you gotta promise me you'll cut up some pears or apple to cut the spice, it has a real kick. you know what? let me just put some of my pears in a little container for you." and off she flows to get my pears.
when she returns i buy my container of soup, and she places it and the pears into my bag. "my food in a whole foods bag, it's like a dream come true."
i leave The Kitchen and take a deep breath. the air is cold and not as refreshing as i'd like. interesting, i think to myself as i head to the run-down and dirty looking organic food store for tofu, you never know who you're going to meet here. i braved my fear of the classy looking and got some really good soup too!
posted by jordan at
2:18 PM
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