A Taste of the Caribbean

At the end of the main road that runs along the Caribbean coast of Costa Rica, there is a quaint beachside town called Manzanillo (pronounced “man-za-nee-yo”, not “man-za-nil-o”).
Manzanillo is the epitome of Caribbean. Located in the Gandoca-Manzanillo Marine and Wildlife Refuge, Manzanillo is a treasure trove for nature lovers. A dense coral reef lines the beach just meters from the shore and makes for excellent snorkelling. Sea turtles, barracudas, eels, reef sharks, sea urchins, and dozens of colorful fish are just some of the creatures you can expect to encounter. Mom-and-pop dive shops offer snorkel gear for just $3/hour. Diving gear and tours are also available. Kayaks run at $5/hour, and other tours include dolphin watching, bird watching, boat trips, and hiking.
The town of Manzanillo may be tiny, but the rainforest that surrounds it is massive. A hiking trail that starts just down the beach from the restaurant “Maxi’s” winds through the coastal rainforest all the way to Panama. The trail is a popular hike to the sustainable farm at “Punta Mona”- which is not accessible by road. If you decide to make the 5km+ hike to Punta Mona, which can take anywhere from 1.5-3 hours depending on the weather, lots of monkeys, sloths, lizards, and birds will keep you company along the way. Another 45 min-1 hour hike past Punta Mona will bring you to the town of Gandoca- which is even smaller than Manzanillo, if you can believe it.
Manzanillo is also known for its beautiful beach and good surfing. Cement tables are spread out under the trees, just before the shore, and it is common to see locals and tourists alike playing cards, hanging out, listening to music, and having lunch. Little shops and a few motels are scattered throughout the town, and all have a distinct Caribbean vibe with Rasta colors painted on the walls, reggae blaring from stereos, and Bob Marley memorabilia for sale.
One of the biggest gems in Manzanillo is the restaurant “Maxi’s”. While prices may be a little expensive, the mouth-watering cuisine is worth it. Be sure to order from the parilla (grill)- there is nothing quite like a plantain right off the grill, or a juicy pork rib with Caribbean sauce (not that I would know about the latter, but it’s what my fiance always orders. The amazing smell of the grilled meat almost makes me want to give up being a vegetarian. Almost). If “Caribbean” were a flavor, it would be anything cooked on the grill at Maxi's.
Maxi’s also sets the Caribbean scene with walls adorned by soccer banners, old-school reggae and hip-hop playing on the radio, a Caribbean staff who’s ancestors settled in Costa Rica from Jamaica, and a gorgeous view of the Caribbean sea. After hours of snorkelling, diving, hiking, surfing, playing with dolphins, or just lounging on the beach, kicking it at Maxi’s with a plate of food straight off the grill and a view of the sun setting over the Caribbean sea is a perfect ending to a perfect day.
Photo Credit: Christena Devlin

Naked Brunch

The other day I was sitting in my friend’s kitchen in Berlin, flipping through her copy of “The Return of the Naked Chef”. Have you read that book? So yummy- and I’m not just talking about the recipes. The Naked Chef (Jamie Oliver) is smoking hot, and has some great views on food to boot.
However, as I was reading his rant about why breakfast should be elevated to a more important meal status- “Instead of meetings over lunch or dinner, why not meetings over breakfast?”- and how hard it was to find a good breakfast buffet, I couldn’t help but wonder if he had been to Berlin. And if he had, then did he ever miss out.
The Naked Chef’s cookbooks promote recipes using the bare essentials and that strip down restaurant food. Sounds like a Berlin buffet to me- the simplest of foods, but oh so delicious. Berlin’s restaurants are all about the breakfast/brunch crowd. And we’re not talking about the scrambled eggs with some bacon and hash browns type breakfasts that are the standard in so many countries. No, we’re talking about the kind of breakfast the Naked Chef had in mind: fresh juices, self-composed mueslis, and homemade breads. Add to the list a variety of fresh cheeses, a dozen kinds of meat, rolls, jam, fruit, and eggs, and you’ve got the typical Berlin breakfast buffet.
Some restaurants even take breakfast a step further than the food. One restaurant in the Neukolln neighborhood has a small stage and offers a “jazz brunch” every Sunday. How nice to eat breakfast while listening to live jazz. Plus, a buffet in Berlin won’t break your budget. The “jazz brunch” is only 7.50 euros. And other restaurants offer buffets for as low as 3 euros. There may be a lot of artists in Berlin, but you can bet that none of them are starving.

The Oldest Pub in Berlin

There are places in Berlin that lead you back to an era of cobblestone roads, red-bricked buildings, churches fitted with wrought iron and stained glass windows, and ancient oak trees lining the pathways. You can almost hear the clip-clop a horses’ hooves, can almost see a carriage coming around the corner carrying people in old-fashioned dress.
Zur letzten Instanz, the oldest pub in Berlin, is one of those places. The pub first opened its doors in 1621, but the first documented mention of the building is from 1561. Zur letzten Instanz sits at the end of Waisenstrasse, an alley that also features the oldest building in Berlin- the “Graues Kloster” (Grey Monastery). A historic courthouse and the skeleton of a bombed out church can be found just around the corner.
I’ve heard stories that prisoners from the courthouse used to be taken to Zur letzten Instanz for their last meal in the days of old. The pub also boasts a repertoire of famous guests, ranging from Napoleon to Mikhel Gorbachev.
I loved how the candles on the tables and the large chandeliers bathed the pub in a warm glow. Rows of antique beer steins lined wooden shelves, stained glass windows and brick walls aptly portrayed the century in which the pub was born, and a heavy, wrought iron staircase wound a spiral of dark green to the restaurant on the top floor. Everything looked antique and I couldn’t help but feel the history of the place, as if there were ghosts milling about, mingling their laughter and chatter with the sounds of the guests from present day.
The wait staff wore classy black and white uniforms, and offered the luxury of service reserved for fine dining. The prices, however, were only slightly higher than the average Berlin restaurant and the food was well worth the few extra euros. The menu featured several meat-based dishes, with the meat often served on the bone, and always dripping with tender juiciness. Sides included beets, dumplings, cabbage, and potatoes prepared like I’ve never tasted before- sweet and savoury and bursting with so much flavour that I’ll never think of cabbage as a boring side dish again.
My own meal was one of the few vegetarian options listed on the menu and it was literally one of the best meals I’ve ever eaten. Fennel, rosemary, and other savoury herbs complimented tomatoes that tasted like they’d been picked fresh from the vine. I can’t remember what the dish was called, but I’m tempted to go back to Zur letzten Instanz for a second round so I can find out.

Visit the restaurant's website for more information: www.zurletzteninstanz.de

OMG! I Ate Some Meat!

Germans sure love their meat, to the point where even a vegetarian can start to get cravings for a piece of crisp juicy animal flesh. I’ve been a vegetarian for eleven years, and like most vegetarians, I’ve “cheated” from time to time. I should have known from the start that Berlin had it in for me, with its sausage stands and low prices and döner (kebab) vendors and supermarkets offering every kind of meat you could think of.
Alexander Platz was a particularly tempting place for a vegetarian like me. After hours of busking (performing by the street), a girl can work up quite an appetite. There are easily six bratwurst stands by the Alexander Platz U Bahn. Sausage, sausage everywhere and not a bite to eat! Until I totally caved. I couldn’t help it. One day I was so hungry and the sausages were sizzling on the grill and my friend was beside me, sinking his teeth into a perfectly crisp bratwurst. Man, that sausage was so good.
I told myself it wouldn’t happen again. It was just one sausage. A girl can cheat once in a while. It’ okay, right? Well, apparently not, because now I’m freaking addicted to bratwurst. It’s the best bang for my buck at a euro and twenty cents. And the bratwurst are all lined up, waiting to be munched. No lines to wait in. Fast, cheap, convenient, filling, and so damn delicious.
Bratwurst has been my only exception, though. Germans can get downright weird with their meat. I went to a dinner party and there were several jars on the table next to a plate of crackers. I thought that the jars contained maybe hummus or cheese or some kind of spread. Nope. It was meat in a jar! All kinds of strange, processed meats: blood sausage, liver, and god knows what else. It looked like cat food. And kind of smelled like it, too.
Now, some people don’t classify fish as meat, but most vegetarians do. If you add fish to your definition of meat, then the meat in Germany gets even stranger. Pickled herring on a bun? Germans love it. Fish burgers, fish filets, fish with the scales still on, you name it and you can find it, at least in Berlin. They even have fish bakeries.
There was a jar of herring in the fridge of the apartment we’re renting. My fiance, Wilson, had the brilliant idea of opening up the jar to sample its contents. He didn’t get that far, though, because after one whiff the lid was back on and the fridge was slammed shut.
Wilson didn’t warn me about the jar of herring, though. I only found out because he gave me a hug and I couldn’t believe how bad he smelled. He must have washed his hands a dozen times before the smell started to wear off. But our fridge still smells like fish whenever we open it up.
After the jar of herring experience, I feel like my bratwurst addiction is acceptable. Because hey, it could be a lot worse. I could be addicted to pickled herring instead.

Sparrenburg Castle

When I asked my friends in Berlin if there was anything to see while I was in Bielefeld, each one of them said that Bielefeld didn’t have much going on. Imagine my surprise, then, when I got to Bielefeld and people asked if I was going to see the castle. A castle? If that’s not something to see, I don't know what is. Maybe castles are just commonplace to most Germans, and that’s why my friends hadn’t mentioned it. Either way, I was thrilled. I had never been in a real castle.
The Sparrenburg Castle sits high on a hill, overlooking Bielefeld and beyond. A massive stone wall wraps around the interior, with a turret in four corners. Inside, the main halls have been reconstructed and now serve as a restaurant. A large turret is in the middle of the grounds, towering over everything. The great thing about the Sparrenburg Castle is that you can really explore it. There are tours that take you around the outside, through the inside, underground, and all the way to the top. What a view!
Sparrenburg is a good bang for your buck, too. The restaurant and the little food stand both charged a fair price for tasty cuisine and the tours were inexpensive (less than 4 euro). Parking and entrance to the castle are free.
A bit of the history? The guide I was given says that Sparrenburg was built in the early 1200s by Count Ludwig of Ravensburg and that it was home to the Count and his “entourage”. Which makes the Count sound like he was a rock star. Because when I think “entourage” I think of hot girls and groupies. But maybe that’s just me.
Throughout the centuries, Sparrenburg saw many changes in ownership and additions to its architecture. Sadly, the castle was pummeled by an air raid during WW II, but extensive renovations have made the castle almost like it was before.
While we were at Sparrenburg, there was a photoshoot for a wedding taking place throughout the grounds, and a bag pipe player in a kilt was playing by the bridge on the way into the castle. There was definitely a lot to see.

www.bielefeld.de
www.sparrenburg.info

Turkish Delight!

An interesting thing about Berlin is that there is a large Turkish population, primarily in the Kreuzberg and Neukölln neighbourhoods. Walk down Karl Marx Str. and you’ll see women wearing head scarves, men smoking hookahs, and the latest in Turkish fashion spilling out of store fronts. The best part about the Turkish areas? The Turkish markets.
Today was a lazy Tuesday. Wilson and I slept in until noon, grabbed some snacks from the bakery, and headed out to Treptower Park. Aside from a lone swan, there wasn’t too much happening, though. Visiting our friend Djamila sounded like much more fun.
Until today, I had never met Djamila. She’s a friend of Wilson. He always told me she was part Turkish and part German, but I didn’t think she looked Turkish when I met her. Wilson made a couple of Turkish references to her, including a joke about why she wasn’t wearing a head scarf. Finally, she turned to him and said, “Wilson! I’m not Turkish. I’m Algerian!” Oops.
Djamila did, however, take us to the largest Turkish market in Berlin. I love the Turkish people for many things, and their food is at the top of the list. Tables of licorice, Turkish Delight, pastries, pita bread, cheeses, tea, dates, olives, nuts, and various pickled vegetables, among other delicacies, lined the market from one end to the other. Yum. The only thing I didn't really want to eat was the octopus, but can you blame me?
There were also stalls that featured fabrics, jewelery, and clothes. I was hunting for a veil, which I needed for upcoming choreography in the dance company, but was out of luck. Veils were the one thing the market didn’t have. I did find a hot pink belly dance costume, but then decided that looking like a pink flamingo is not my style.
This particular Turkish market, which is open on Tuesday and Friday, is situated alongside the canal at Maybachufer Str. After meandering through the stalls, gorging on fresh corn on the cob, and listening to a jazz ensemble that was busking on the sidewalk, we took a stroll along the banks of the canal. I spotted a swan and pointed it out to Wilson and Djamila. And then we spotted another swan and another and another until we stumbled upon a whole swan gang. And I say gang because they were hustling like you wouldn’t believe. You think seagulls are aggressive when they want food? Wait until you see a three foot tall swan hissing at you while charging with its wings spread. You best be giving that swan some food or you’re in trouble! But I can’t really fault them. It’s not like they can go into the Turkish market and buy all that delicious food themselves.