My mother, who is about half German-ish and half British-ish, likes to repeat the fact that more Americans have German heritage than British. From my dad I am half Dutch and half British-ish. Sparks’ background is broadly similar. All of us love Britain in the way we love fairy tales; we gobble up shows like River Cottage and Hairy Bikers, Agatha Christie adaptations, and English history documentaries. If Sparks and I are ever rich there’s a good chance we’d retire somewhere in the UK.
But for outright celebrations of “heritage”, it’s all-out German.
WATCH OUT LADIES, he’s unshaven and he’s got a spaetzle press.
For those unfamiliar with the process: one drips gooey pasta batter into boiling water to make noodley-dumplingey things.
And there they are. For this batch Sparks added turmeric to the batter for color. He also says the batter was too thin and runny and he’ll do better next time. I don’t see anything wrong here though.
Here’s our little treasure troll waiting for her carbohydratey-goodness. We held our breaths waiting to see if she’d eat it; lately we’ve had some problems with her not eating things that ought to be shoe-ins (how can she not like French toast?), but she gingerly tasted one noodle, then began stuffing her face. Sparks leaned back and said “I like this kid!”
I’d gone to ALDI so we’re stocking Wernesgruner as well as–do you know what you’re looking at???–refrigerated canned pretzel dough. Just like biscuits, but PRETZELS!!!