Burgers, Dogs, & Pizza, Oh My!

Posts Tagged ‘german food’

I don’t remember the first OR last time I had chocolate mousse. I dare say it’s more than a half century ago.

When we were kids, it was the ultimate luxury in dessert after a fancy meal out, which generally meant some holiday in a hotel dining room. As for the last time, had to have been on the cusp between teen and “adult” trying to impress some young thing out for a first dinner date.

Her name was Nancy and the (hotel) restaurant was called “The Black Bear.”

All I really remember about it was it was incredibly chocolately, incredibly sweet, with an “air-like” quality.

So wondering through the “foreign foods” aisle at one of the local grocers the other day, as I am apt to do, I spotted Dr. Oetker’s Chocolate Mousse Mix in a box, with the simplest of instructions, add a cup of milk, and stick your electric whippy dip on high speed in there for five minutes, spoon into ‘dessert cups.’

I could handle that.  I was familiar with the brand, which started as a baking ingredient company in Germany in the 1800s. Makers of yeast and such. Today they still crank out all manner of powdered baking aids, yeast, baking powder, icings, flavored sugars, and for some inexplicable reason, have expanded into frozen pizzas.

I recall trying one, but apparently it wasn’t memorable enough to write about.

Anyway, I decided this weekend to venture into the world of instant chocolate mousse.  Would it remind me of the childhood delight? Is it different than instant pudding?

Sadly, the answer to both questions is no.  It was easy to make.  It did taste chocolately (s in a pudding sort of way, a little thicker, denser perhaps, but nothing to serve your in laws and expect compliments.

It might be better as an ingredient in something.  Brownies? Cake?  Leave it to your imagination.  I think it was two bucks.

Whip! Whip! Whip!

Not my pic. My cups were a mess!

Dr Oetkers Chocolate Mousse Mix Review

Dr Oetkers Chocolate Mousse Mix Review

Exterior

1870 was the year Herman Berghoff immigrated from German. He worked on plantations and at other jobs before opening his own brewery in Indiana. When the World’s Fair in Chicago came along in 1893, Berghoff set up a booth to sell his beer to fair patrons.

He met with such success, he figured he better have an outlet in Chicago, and thus the Berghoff opened in 1898.

1870, when Herman Berghoff immigrated from Germany to America. After stints working on cotton and sugar cane plantations—and even time spent performing at Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show—Herman opened his own brewery in Indiana.

When the World’s Fair came to Chicago in 1893, Herman Berghoff set up a stand in the Midway Plaisance and sold his beers to people entering and exiting the fair. His success at the fair prompted him to consider a more permanent place to sell his beer in Chicago. Thus, The Berghoff opened doors in 1898.

He survived prohibition by expanding the food offerings beyond sandwiches, and brewing and selling sodas and near beer. To this day, the Berghoff brews some of the finest root beer you’ll find anywhere.

The restaurant holds Chicago liquor license #1. Today, there is the full service restaurant, a bar with small bites, and a fast service cafe opening M-F lunch. One of the quirks of the Berghoff is it was strictly “men only” until 1969, when Gloria Steinham and some women friends walked in and demanded to be served at the bar.

That was that.

Renowned for authentic German cuisine, the menu also offers some American favorites, and most everything served is crafted in-house, including some of the best rye bread you’ll ever experience.

I went for the fresh cut, lean corned beef sandwich, which came with chips and a pickle. And of course, a root beer.

If you’re in downtown Chicago, be sure to make this one of your stops.

Regular Menu
Cafe Menu
Bar Menu 

Corned beef on house-baked rye

House-made chips

Back in the day menu

Berghoff Restaurant and Bar Review

Berghoff Restaurant and Bar Review

The other day, a Los Angeles area newspaper had me write an article about the recent closing of an iconic traditional delicatessen. They do seem to be vanishing at a rapid rate, but I never gave much thought as to why, until the owner of this one that was giving it up set me straight. It’s kind of a result of several things happening at once in America’s dining habits – the infatuation with ‘fast casual’, the number of people following special diet regimens, like vegetarian and gluten free.

The traditional deli is mostly meat and baked goods. RIP.  There are very few left; one of my all time favorites is still around, Cecil’s in St. Paul.

So as I was thinking about that, I was on my way out of Chicago for the winter, and had a deli craving. I was in Des Plaines, not far from Ray Kroc’s first McDonalds, and some locals suggested “Kuhn’s”, a German deli. So I rolled into the parking lot.

You walk into the door into the market portion of the deli, a counter ringing the interior room full of sausages, smoked meat specialties and salads; the outer walls are lined with shelves chock-a-block full of European groceries.

At the rear of the market, you can step through a door into the cafe section table seating for maybe 24 people. The menu offers a variety of German traditional dishes, including schnitzels, rouladen, sauerbraten, and of course, sausages. They also have a good selection of ‘traditional’ hot and cold sandwiches.

I went with the sausage assortment plate, which came with one each of knackwurst, thuringer, and veal bratwurst. A choice of sides had me opt for “German fries.” Now I have a question about that dish. They looked suspiciously like “American fries.” Now if they would have looked like “French fries,” I would have assumed the recipe was just one more thing the Germans pilfered from the French during WW2, but how the heck did they purloin our American fries? In any case, they were very tasty. As were the sausages, which were actually more than I could eat at a serving. (Yeah, I know, shut up).  The plate was accompanied by three slices of fresh bread and a ramekin of coarse mustard.

Chicago’s ethnic pockets and restaurants, German, Czech, Polish have some real gems, unfortunately, most visitors to the city don’t realize instead of Chicago being one big city, its really a collection of very unique neighborhoods.

Being as I’m on the road, I couldn’t load up on sausages from the deli case. Damn.

Kuhns Delicatessen Review