We never decorated Easter eggs at my house. It seems a shame, because as you can see from my last post, colorful and intricate designs are right up my alley.
But we only ate scrambled eggs when I was little. In fact, some of my family members are still dubious of eggs in any other form. This breakfast pizza, for example, was deemed too frightening for human consumption.
Hard-boiled eggs are even more objectionable, according to my sisters. So you can see why we didn’t cook a batch every spring. They might offer a fun canvas for painting, but the insides would be wasted.
I, however, learned to love hard-boiled eggs after a trip to Germany. My host family also introduced me another unfamiliar substance often viewed with suspicion: quark.
Just for a moment, I’m going to try to think of a food more German than Spaetzle.
I didn’t come up with anything.
(If you can think of anything more distinctly German, leave a comment! But for now, I’ll move on.)
What sets Spaetzle apart in my mind is the difficulty of explaining what it is. (It means “little sparrow,” and you say it “SHPAY-tsul.”) You can compare it to more familiar foods—noodles, dumplings… but it’s not. It’s Spaetzle.