Snapshot: Winter Markets and Street Food
I never was entirely clear what this was, but it involved meat, cheese, mushrooms, sauce, and was yummy
When people kept telling me, "You have to see the winter markets across Northern Europe" I was skeptical. I don't like shopping. I get quickly overloaded by holiday kitsch. I was envisioning a sort of seasonal flea-market in another language.
I was wrong.
First: I love street food. I love the variety that comes from low entry costs. I love the often "family or friends" nature of the cart or truck or whatever. I love that it's someone's dream, and the food often represents a passion or culture far away.
In winter markets from Budapest to Vienna to Prague to Frankfurt to Berlin, I sampled cevapi, sausages, fries with a million sauces, glug wine, some kind of seafood potato thing, dumplings, and more, while walking in snow, rain, sun, and everything in between. The best pad Thai I've had in years came from a parking lot outside Munich. Paul got his dream food: fries and bolognese sauce. The worst alcohol I had was some kind of honey mead in Prague.
And I love that I'm eating or drinking with intentionality, taking time to enjoy both my setting and my food. I love that I’m walking outside. I do that sometimes in downtown Louisville, eating street BBQ or Indian - but not as often as I am eating to fuel myself or in between things or as an accompanyment to a meeting.
Second: I love hand-made things. I like the idea that someone put time and effort into crafting something beautiful. I like the process of wandering without needing to buy anything and just admiring the skill with which something is made. I like having a vague goal (warm socks and a scarf for me) and letting things flow from there.
I also really like that the space limitations make the accumulation of crap much harder.
My bringback: more street food in my life.
Nothing better on a cold day
