Das Leben ist ein Ponyhof (Life is a rose garden)

The German language has quite a few expressions referring to the fact that life is not meant to be easy. My favourite one at the moment is 'Das Leben ist Kein Ponyhof' which can be translated as 'Life is not a rose garden'.

Which is funny because my friend Susi owns a pony and regularly invites me along to spend time on the 'Ponyhof'. Where there are also lots of roses around now that its summertime in Germany.

So I say; life can be whatever you want it to be.

In fact, on a recent trip to Nonnenau (Nun's Island) where Susi used to stable her pony, I had the feeling that I stepped into a bit of a fairy tale. Nonnenau is on the Rhine River close to Mainz in the Frankfurt area.

We took a short ferry ride to get to the island where I was enchanted by the historical buildings and the apple trees - which made me think of Snow White.

Then there was this lovely thoroughbred peeking out from its little 'palace tower' overgrown with red roses - Rapunzel, of course. Or is my imagination taking things a little too far?

I was lucky enough that here was also a small pony for me to ride. Henry. Whom I proceeded to call Prince Henry, because the setting called for it. So Susi and I took off through the apple trees on Nonnenau, managing to avoid the poison apples and the evil witches and opting for a beer at the small beer garden on the island instead.

Nonnenau is a delightful little river island which also seems to be a popular setting for events and weddings. Which is no wonder. It has just the right amount of magic for the imagination to run free and perhaps dream up a happier-ever-after destiny.

Hm, tastes like heel balm

After a fantastic nap with the European rain lulling my dreams, my stomach is rumbling.

My friend Caroline prepares some traditional Frankfurter food for me: ‘handkäs mit musik’ (hand cheese with music) served with ‘bauernbrot’ (farmers’ bread); and ‘grüne soße’ (green sauce) with hard boiled eggs and potato. We enjoy some delicate, dry Riesling from the Rhine region in the area while we chop and chat.

I tried the handkäs on it’s own after our trip to the supermarket and it tasted the way heel balm smells. Now I am quite curious and, well, nervous, to try it ‘mit musik’. The official version is that ‘mit musik’ refers to the sauce. The unofficial version is that ‘mit musik’ is the flatulence that is caused by all the chopped onions.

The sauce of vinegar, oil, onions and cumin makes all the difference to the balmy taste of the cheese and the flavourful ‘bauernbrot’ is a perfect companion. ‘Handkäs’ is completely fat free and therefore quite healthy. The ‘grüne soße’ is a light mixture of yoghurt and herbs. I prefer to eat it with my Frankfurter sausage (which tastes more or less the same here as anywhere else) than the traditional way, having never really been a fan of eating potato and eggs together. We wash it all down with the fresh taste of ‘äbbelwoi’, while recalling memories of previous adventures.

I wanted to try my hand at baking the traditional Frankfurter cream cake for dessert but when Caroline phoned her mom to get the recipe, Mrs Braun exclaimed that ‘it’s really old-fashioned and so not cool!’ and suggested that we make ‘bethmannchen’ instead. Yet we don’t end up making the Frankfurter marzipan sweets, or any other dessert for that matter.

Which is a good thing because by the time we finish the food and the wine, we are so feasted out that there is not a spot left for a sweet tooth. I guess that will have to wait for another visit.

The lure of apple wine

The first time I went to Frankfurt I planned to merely spend one night there, round up my German friends and then travel with them to other, more interesting, parts of Europe.

That night my Frankfurter friends, Caroline and Susi, took me to a little tavern for my first taste of apple wine, or ‘äbbelwoi’ (pronounced ‘ebbelwoi’ - fast and slurry if you want to talk like a local). Given a choice between sweet and bitter apple wine, I chose the latter and expected cider. Yet the flavour of real apples surprised my tastebuds and the dryness tickled my tongue. That one night ended up lingering in my mouth and left me wanting more.

This time around I am making sure that I get to sample all the local delicacies that Frankfurt has to offer. Susi offers to take me to Rewe (the supermarket) soon after my arrival. I grab a freshly baked ‘bredzel’ from the bakery on the way and devour it in an instant, almost getting driven over by a cyclist for walking on the wrong side of the sidewalk.

I am all eyes when we reach the supermarket, enchanted by the ‘feldsalad’ (seasonal salad leaves) and ‘mini cresse’ (looks like miniature watercress and tastes like horseradish). Susi insists on introducing me to a local cheese called ‘handkäs’. I choose some Frankfurter sausages, curious to find out whether they taste any different in their place of origin. In the dairy aisle I find beautiful glass bottles filled with milk and yoghurt. The Germans are obsessed with food safety, which explains the glass option as opposed to plastic.

In fact, the Germans are so dedicated to food ethics that they are struggling to keep up with organic food supplies. Just down the road from Rewe is an equally big and way more expensive bio supermarket called Basic. It sells everything from mushrooms to mascara, in organic form.

We fill up two big shopping bags at Rewe and just like that we are ready to prepare a German feast.