One thing is for sure. If it’s red, and it has red spots on it, like these, DO NOT EAT THEM!

We found lots of Finferele, Portobello, Mazza Tamburo and about three fresh Porcini! Actually, I found the biggest porcino… right next to the road!

We breaded and fired the big ones last night, tonight… Risotto ai Funghi!

This post was copy and pasted from my personal blog lapsus humanus.

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Ciao!

Elle

Click “continue” for the answer…

It’s a climbing wall! There are also overhead hooks (not pictured) for those who have the equipment and want to climb horizontally. Just take the steps, or the elavator, down to the Mur from the bridge that takes you to “the island”.

I walked downtown and found my way to the Spätzle Sieb section of the store, where I was given the choice of an old-fashioned kind of sieb that has a sliding compartment in which you put your dough (E41.50) or a new-fangled one that is a scooped out piece of stainless steel with holes like a cheese grater (E29.50).

I opted for the cheaper one. In this case, cheaper is relative, because E29.50 for a piece of stainless steel with holes is outrageous.

But it makes damn good spatzle. And my wife was very happy with it.

According to her, spätzle are easy to make, but then she is a wicked cook. You just mix together an egg, a soup spoonful of oil or melted butter, and a cup or so of water or milk. Gradually whisk in white flour and a pinch of salt until you have the consistency of chewed kaugummi, not too soft, not too stiff. Press some of the dough through the holes of the sieb into salted boiling water. When the spätzle rise to the top and the water is a bit foamy, they’re done.

We had them with chicken goulash: equal parts sliced onions and meat sauteed well, lots of sweet Hungarian paprika, salt and water to cover. When the meat is falling-off-the-bone tender, my wife makes a slurry of flour and cold water and adds that to the stew to thicken it a bit.

Paprika is the powder made from dried pimento chiles or bell peppers. It can vary in spiciness and depth of flavor, from bright, red mild paprika to pale, pungent hot powder. It reminds me a lot of the red chile we have in New Mexico, only that powder is significantly more spicy than the hottest paprika.

My wife’s mother makes a potato goulash that is fantastic. She uses a milder type of paprika, fewer onions and chicken stock instead of water for the broth, It’s great.

Traditionally in Austria goulash is eaten with white bread, though I am crazy for spätzle.

Evidently, Austrians don’t get tax breaks for giving to charity, so there isn’t much of that going round throughout the year –unlike the States where giving a little to charity, and writing off a lot from your taxes, can be a lucrative endeavor. So, this is a big deal and the school children raise a lot of money.

And it feel so good just to give something away to people who need it, especially after the avarice-inducing consumer-fest known as Weihnachten.

I’ll be honest, I am glad the holidays are coming to a close. It was nice to see people out on the streets again yesterday. Happy January!

But all I could think of after visiting several old Austrian farm houses was how cold everyone must have been in the old days. Cold, man, really cold! And dark, really dark. If you are more than 4 meters from the fireplace you are going to be cold, baby. Teeny windows, teeny doors. Cold people. And hardy; hardy, strong old Austrians.

The whole experience that night really made me feel far from home; it was so different from America. I mean, first off, unless it is a football game, you never get Americans to go outside at night in the cold. No way. We might drive around in our cars with the heater running to look at Christmas lights or maybe go to the mall and pretend we are walking around in some Disney-inspired Christmas landscape—but actually go outside in the cold? No chance.

And the Advent Market was sooo dark, lit only by the moon and a few dim lanterns. At one point while walking down a dark path we had to put our arms out to keep people walking toward us from bumping into us. It was that dark–we couldn’t see anything. Would that happen in America? Not possible. Think of the liability if someone fell. We sue each other at the drop of a hat. Public spaces are designed so we can’t hurt ourselves if we try. Bright lights, railings, locked doors, unopenable windows. We design our public spaces for two-year-olds. It is quite different here. It is assumed people will take responsibility for themselves. What a concept.

I have to admit, though, that my favorite part of the market was the fire logs! (OK, maybe I am uncultured) Hollowed out logs set on end, on top of three or four stones (for air flow), and lit by a smoldering stick. The log burns from the inside out, creating a fast burning, hot flame that shoots out the top–looks like the flame from a rocket engine. These were really cool and we all stood around drinking punsch and trying to stay warm.

Little Ronja looked like a giant M&M in her orange snowsuit, but at least she was easy to keep an eye on. We all had a good time and I really appreciated being here in Graz–it is so wonderfully, old-fashionedly Christmassy.

Here the beautiful old “Post”-sign. Click on the image to get a larger version.