RETROWURST: Globetrotting Gourmets (October 1972)

Time to show off this beautiful branded bit of marvellousness, given to me by an old chum as a memento of working on the British Airways account together. Although this dates back to the days of BOAC when British Airways was just a twinkle in someone's sky. 

The magnificent menu evokes the glory of international travel in the early 1970s. It's from 1972, when the Jumbo Jet (747) this lucky lot would have flown in was likely brand spanking new. The journey was London - Sydney, with 6 stops in between. Frankfurt - Beirut - Teheran - Bangkok - Hong Kong - Darwin. Almost 26 hours airborne. 

And I'd guess that you'd be unlikely to fit into your size 10 Pucci bikini on Bondi Beach if you took full advantage of the food and drink. 

Fresh Cornish lobster, Steak, pheasant & mushroom pie, Prawn Cocktail, Stuffed baby marrows, Seafood profiterole, Baked lobster thermidor, Breast of duckling with apple and prunes, washed down with Negronis, fine vintage wines selected from the great vineyards of Bordeaux, Burgundy and the Rhine, Cockburns Fine Old Tawny Port etcetera, etcetera.

I hope there were not too many cases of Mr Creosote.

The world and life have changed, of course. First Class passengers today skulk around slightly shamefacedly in sloppy designer leisurewear, trying not to think about the environment.

But if I could have a time machine, I could do worse than joining that flight half way round the world, gazing out at the endless sky, sipping a cool glass of champagne and nibbling on some vol-au-vents.

 

 

Ooohs, Ahs and Apple Juice

 

I listened in to a webinar from eat big fish and System1 last week on "The Startling Power of Surprise". Surprise and its use in the world of brands and their communications is something I've often posted about, for example here and here. 

The webinar - and my surprise posts - pick up some big (and maybe unsurprising) themes about surprise:

First of all, the pursuit of seamlessness and consistency (rather than coherence), the predictability inherent in algorithms, the requirement to be formulaic so that you can be found by AI, all leads to a rather unhappy dearth of surprise in our lives.

And then there’s getting the balance right - novelty and the familiar - as mastered by brands like IKEA with just the right mix of innovation and ritual.

And finally, there’s surprise and surprise. What about negative surprise? The word is usually prefixed by nasty/unwelcome/unpleasant in this case, but how do you judge that? Then there are those cognitive dissonance types of surprises where things are so off-kilter/not fitting to the brand where the brain simply switches off and ignores it.

And there’s there’s plain old shock-value, just for the sake of it.

What I found particularly interesting in the webinar was the dictinction between surprise as a little creative flourish/an executional twist ,and surprise as a strategic tool. Adam Morgan calls this the “Oh!” and the “Ohhhh!”.

The long “Ohhhh!” has more lasting effect on the memory - and can reframe the category in people’s minds, or change their relationship with the brand. 

I was surprised recently by the design work by the Stuttgart agency Papa Tom for wildling apple juice spritzer. Most German apple juice/applewein brands tend to use artisanal/homely/countryside/traditional imagery and design, which gets pretty samey, especially once AI is let loose on it. 

But wildling is surprising in its approach - which includes the nettles in the product itself - it looks a touch dangerous, edgy, mysterious. Not something for a kiddies’ birthday party.

Gets a definite “Ohhh!” from me.

   

 

Fizz Buzz Pop!

This rebranding design for Mirinda is gob-smackingly good, in my view. Often global (as this is) means bland and lowest common denominator, but this pop-art pageant of funtime fruitiness hits the highest common factor in the unashamedly day-glo world of soda pop.

It's been a while since I've been in the market, I know (the price of a sweet tooth is catching up with me and I have to watch it). And, according to the marketing press, this new global platform ("Smile Please") is aimed at GenZ (sic) and their anemoia (nostalgia for a time you've never known) for the 80s, 90s and early 2000s before Smartphones took over everyone's lives. 

And yet, this speaks to me too. Even though I am as old as Mirinda itself:

Fizzy drinks have a proustian madeleine effect on me. The first one I remember drinking was this:

On the beach, from a glass bottle, with a straw. And, a couple of years later came Fanta. Another glass bottle, another straw. This time in a marvellous cafe in College Town (Sandhurst) with sausages and crinkle-cut chips. A treat indeed.

 

A childhood in 1960s and 70s England meant a rainbow-load of fizzy pop. The milkman used to deliver Corona, then there was Tizer and R. White's. I was quite fond of the cream soda - I can remember the taste like yesterday, but still don't know what on earth it was meant to taste like, apart from sweet. 

It's a wonder I have any of my own teeth left.

Holidays brought further fizzy delights. In Canada, root beer and Welch's Grape Soda. And the very sophisticated Canada Dry which my parents would drink with Canadian Whiskey. 

Mirinda, I expect, was something I came across on holiday at some point. It was launched in Spain, but bought up by PepsiCo and marketed worldwide, under various names, hence the focus in the re-design on visual rather than text elements.

The name Mirinda comes from Esperanto originally. But I think the rebrand has done something very clever.

Just as our 21st century Esperanto is Emojis, these design elements are surely the international visual language of fizzy pop.

 

 

RETROWURST: Switzerland February 2008

 

Hot on the hiking boot heels of Austria last month, it’s Switzerland’s turn in Retrowurst. Eighteen years ago, I took a William Tell-style pot shot at Switzerland in all its cohesiveness and diversity. Alphorns, flag-throwing, Swiss Army knives and all. 

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Having had a go, as it were, at Austria in my last Extrawurst, I thought I would take a shot at Switzerland, in a William Tell sort of way, this time and see if I can hit the centre of the apple! If we were to play that “countries as brands” game, one thing that strikes me about Switzerland is that the country presents perhaps one of the most intriguing combinations of cohesiveness on the one hand and diversity on the other of all European countries, at least.

 

I have a special affection for Switzerland while thinking about brands and marketing as Switzerland was the destination of my first ever trip “abroad” on business. I was involved in a fairly mundane market research project involving the development of an Own Label dog food for Migros but I remember the amazement I felt at sitting around a table at lunchtime where eight people were speaking no fewer than four languages between them! A few years later, on a holiday in Lucerne, we ascended Mount Pilatus via the funicular railway to find two highly contrasting but equally fascinating events vying for attention at the top of the mountain. These were something called “Les Chefs des Chefs” – or similar – a gathering of the head Chefs of the World’s political leaders and an Alphornfest along with a bit of flag-throwing. Here was the paradox of Switzerland, if not in a microcosm, at least on a mountain peak: simultaneously sweepingly International and passionately local. This sums up the country that is the host of International organizations such as the Red Cross or the United Nations Human Rights Council but hangs stubbornly onto their Francs, not wanting to get too submerged into the E.U.

 

To go back to that flag-throwing, I would hazard a guess that the Swiss flag, along with the Stars and Stripes, the Union Jack and that flag the Germans had from 1933 - 1945, is one of the most recognised in the world. The flag has a certain iconic quality that isn’t really present in all those stripy flags: having lived in Germany for twelve years now, I still get Germany and Belgium confused! And the Swiss are pretty good at marketing themselves via the flag, too. It is very easy to spend rather more francs than you want to at one of those amazing “Swiss Shops” at Zurich airport, or wherever, that tempt you with all manner of merchandise with that very pleasing-to-the-eye red and white flag.

 

Of course, numerous internet sites have sprung up peddling Swiss-flag-merchandise from T-shirts in all shapes and sizes, sunglasses, baby bibs, umbrellas and some rather dodgy underwear. (I must admit to being a little bemused by this – I am not sure of the potential effect of Swiss flag boxers or G-strings given that the Swiss always seem to get the role of the lovers in those European-version-of-Hell jokes!) In addition, you can order your favourite Swiss Army products such as knives and blankets as well as everything from watches to cowbells, cheese to chocolate (one thing is certain, Switzerland must be Hell for migraine sufferers!) Some of the sites I’ve found include www.myswitzerland.com , www.swiss.shop.missbach.com , www.swissmade.com and www.atoswiss.co.uk .

 

But so much for the coherence and consistency of Switzerland, as symbolised by the Swiss flag. The diversity of such a small country is the other side of the Swiss Franc. There are no less than four official languages (65% German, 18% French, 10% Italian and 1% Romansh), 26 cantons and over 20% of the population is made up of foreigners. In fact, of European countries, only Liechtenstein and Luxembourg have a greater % of foreigners in the population. These are mainly from the former Yugoslavia, but Germans, Italians and Portuguese also figure highly.

 

The Swiss-German language is almost incomprehensible to many High German speakers and really is a language in its own right – not simply a dialect with a few different words, as Austrian-German is. Because of this, perhaps, Swiss-German is a constant source of amusement to Germans. The Swiss are proud of their language so this amusement can be deemed as insulting but, to be very honest, they don’t exactly help themselves. I saw something in a bar called Kafi Schümlipflümli which I don’t think you’d want to ask for twice, presuming you weren’t rendered totally incapable by the first one (I got as far as working out that this involved alcohol).

 

But although they laugh at the language, Switzerland represents a sort of “idealised Germany” for many Germans. The people are richer, there is less unemployment, the mountains are higher and there is no or hardly any past that one would rather draw a veil over. This is perhaps symbolised very neatly in the story of Heidi. When Heidi is dragged away from her beloved mountains and Grandfather to live in Frankfurt with the sickly Clara, she soon becomes as ill, mentally and physically, as Clara herself. And of course, conversely, the Swiss mountains work wonders for Clara’s health. Heidi is still one of the most popular TV programs amongst primary school children here in Germany and is broadcast at the prime early-evening slot. The cartoon series was originally made in 1974 and has hardly been off air since. Maybe this is not surprising. But what is – and this is typical of the paradox of Switzerland – is that this immensely popular Swiss story’s most successful film version is a Japanese anime.

 

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It wasn’t a bad shot - think I got the apple that time. 

I’d like to mention a couple of Swiss brands while I’m here - first, those wonderful boots are from Ammann . And then, watches, chocolate, banking and insurance aside, I’ve noticed that Switzerland has been quite active in the development of non-alcoholic drinks recently - such as Nino and Bel Nada. 

This’ll be the last regular Retrowurst in this format. I have exhausted my ready-made supply of article from the past.

But today is tomorrow’s retro, so watch this space.

The nutty way to healthy growth

 

Being a little long in the tooth, and an Internot person, I’ve come quite late to the KoRo party. I only spotted the brand this year, on the shelves of REWE, as I embarked on my heathy eating kick in Spring. 

The branding and design interested me as much as the selection of products. It’s reminiscent of Cranks (a UK vegeatarian chain of restaurants back in the last century) - a little ironic, almost taking the piss out of itself as a “knit your own joghurt” sort of brand. As for the products, I think the common factor is non-perishable health food. Oh, and large pack sizes.

I’ve since noticed KoRo on the train, Deutsche Bahn, no less. Respect, as they say around here.

For the current KoRo range, have a look here . Dried fruit, nuts, seeds and grains, peanut and other nut butters and spreads, tinned pulses, crips, snacks, biscuits, even chocolate bars. And they’ve gone into storage jars and kitchen utensils, too.

KoRo was founded in Berlin back in 2012. And what’s interesting is that health food wasn’t part of the original concept. The idea at the beginning was more about the bulk packs, sustainability and more transparence in the supply chain. The initial website sold detergents and cleaning products “rescued” from damaged packaging.

The more KoRo’s founders worked in the area of packaging and e-commerce, the more they learned. For example, that many vegan and vegetarian non-perishable food were sold in tiny packs, and contained loads of additives. Idea!

And the marketing strategy has contributed to the brand’s growth - not just in sales terms but in people’s attachment to the brand. KoRo has been using influencer marketing via YouTube before it was called influencer marketing. Around 90% of the budget goes here and on Instagram 

Partnering with creators, influencers, call them what you like feels right for KoRo - it’s a natural fit, like date and walnut. 

KoRo is one of Germany’s fastest growing brands, with plans to scale-up further, into cafes and ice-cream parlours. 

Not bad for a fruit and nut case.

RETROWURST: Very British October 2007

 

Gosh. This is a find which really does feel as if it’s from another era. I wrote at great length, rather gleefully, about the Germans’ one-sided love affair with all things British. I even went as far as suggesting 6 facets (archetypes? tropes?) of Britishness where Germans feel particularly comfortable, from Rosamunde Pilcher’s Cornwall to Gaslit London.

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As the leaves start turning here in Germany, you could be forgiven for thinking that Germany is turning into Britain if you were to stroll through a local shopping centre. At least two large department stores have a “British” theme for their fashion collections and advertising this Autumn.

 

First up is Karstadt, who announce that “Die Stadt wird very British” (“The City is turning British”). Clothes, perfumes, jewellery and other goods of British origin or style are being promoted by Karstadt with models in green wellies and Argyle pullovers. Even the prices are described as “very British” in the sense of being understated.

 

From the country-set vision of Karstadt, we move to Peek and Cloppenburg who have chosen “London Affairs” as the title of their Autumn fashion collection. The publicity material here is shot in the slightly bohemian world of Notting Hill art galleries.

 

Both of these retailers’ visions demonstrate the rather one-sided love-affair that the Germans have with Britain. While they can build better cars and certainly play better football (and, yes, the German women are World Champions without conceding a single goal), many Germans still hero-worship the British and all things British in a completely unconditional way. There are many people who still insist on speaking English to me even though my German is actually pretty good after 11 years here. It is considered completely normal to send pre-school children off to an “English for Kids (sic)” course. Almost every German you speak to will spin teary-eyed nostalgic yarns of their teenage school exchange trip, normally to some south coast seaside resort. And I remember clearly arriving at my first job here to find the young CEO of the advertising agency dressed up in Harris Tweed and corduroy, complete with 1930s Noel Coward accent. I assumed that this was some sort of elaborate joke at my expense, but it emerged that he always dressed like that (OK, he was a Freiherr and had an English grandmother, but still…)

 

British products and brands to be found in Germany tend to be those of the classic/luxury type. In the fashion world, brands like Burberry, Barbour and Clark’s are well-known. Most supermarkets will carry a few British brands. I spotted Twinings, Chivers, H.P Sauce, Duchy Originals and Walker’s shortbread our local REWE, as well as “Five Counties Cheddar” and “Lancashire with Cranberries” on the cheese counter. Interesting to note, there is no “bog standard” English cheese to be had. On the drinks side, whisky is increasingly popular and there are a number of specialist stores to be found, for real and online such as www.whiskymax.com . The upmarket “back to the good old days” retailer www.manufactum.de carries Colman’s mustard, Pear’s and Bronnley soaps.

 

British, English and Scottish shops, which pander to Britophile Germans as much as ex-pats, can be found in major cities and online. These include www.the-british-shop.de (upmarket look), www.british-shop.de (corner shop look) and www.british-shop-online.de (country diary look.)

 

As in all cases of unrequited love, the lover is absolutely blind to the faults of the beloved. Very little of the less desirable aspects of modern Britain is known about in Germany or is simply ignored as it does not fit into the perfect picture. Thus, any talk of Chavs, ASBOs and drunken teenage girls in town centres will simply bring blank looks, even if the terms are explained. It’s the same with celebrities. The only British celebrities that are known and popular here are those that fit in with some idealised picture of Britain. And Germany has enough of its own Big Brother and PopStar winners and losers without having to know about the antics of the British equivalents.

 

Although I talk about one idealised picture of Britain, in truth, there are many facets or archetypes that one can invoke here to position or promote a British brand. Here are six that the Germans feel particularly comfortable with:

 

Rosamunde Pilcher’s Cornwall

Bizarre as it may seem, the Germans have adopted the romantic novelist as their own and the German TV station ZDF has produced 70, yes, 70, of the lady’s stories for TV. The Cornish landscape and the rather kitschy romances have an appeal beyond just little old ladies and so many Germans have flocked to Pilcher country as a result that both ZDF and Ms Pilcher have awards from the British Tourist Board!

 

Braveheart

The swirl of the kilt, the bagpipes, brave Highlanders and whisky is another world that the Germans feel very happy in. This Celtic archetype is also extended to include the Irish. However, although Walker’s shortbread is a staple of British shops, I don’t believe that that other Scottish delicacy, the deep-fried Mars Bar has yet hit the German palate.

 

Swinging London 

This archetype is probably the closest to the reality of modern Britain and thus the least comfortable. While a certain degree of eccentricity is expected from the Brits, there is reluctance to embrace anyone or anything that is too “out of control”. So the rather plasticky German supermodels Heidi Klum and Claudia Schiffer who are part of this “scene” through their partners are seen as better representatives of this world than real-life London girl Kate Moss.

 

The Royal Country Set

This is archetypal England at its best: see www.the-british-shop.de . The British royals are followed with great interest here and are often the subject of affectionate “comedy” sketches as well as documentaries. Having no official royalty of their own, the Germans are happy to “borrow” someone else’s. And while the royal families of Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Holland and Spain also hold interest, the strong blood bond with the Windsors seems to win out.

 

British Humour

Although British humour is usually cited by Germans as the quality that they admire in us the most, what we would call “real” British humour is rarely understood by Germans, relying as it does on word-play and a heavy dose of irony. The king of British humour in Germany is still Rowan Atkinson in his Mr Bean incarnation and I am sure it will come as no surprise that this show is watched and enjoyed by many people over the age of 6 in this country. Another little oddity that is often quoted by Germans as representing British humour is the comedy sketch “Dinner for One”. This sketch was produced in the 1960s by the German TV station NDR with an English cast (Freddie Frinton and May Warden) and now holds the record for the most-repeated TV program ever. Most Germans know the entire script off by heart so next time you hear Germans saying “same procedure as every year” or “cheerio, Miss Sophie!” you’ll know where it came from.

 

Gaslit London

The end 19thC/early 20thC London of swirling fogs, carriages and elegant detectives in evening dress is still a very popular image. Although Germany has never really picked up on modern British police or crime series, preferring the Swedish versions of Henning Mankell and his ilk, Edgar Wallace, Conan Doyle and Agatha Christie remain very popular.

 

There are other archetypes and worlds that represent Britain and the British for the Germans but you can be sure that these do not include benefit scroungers or hoodies. And of course, the benefit of this rather rose-tinted perception for us is that we Brits are automatically assumed to be aristocratic, noble and hilariously funny by the Germans unless we dramatically demonstrate otherwise.

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While the London Olympics, Downton Abbey, the Gin & Tonic revival, various cosy crime series, post-Hugh Grant rom-coms such as “The Holiday” with Cameron Diaz and those sanitised pop biogs kept Britannia’s flame going for a good few years, it’s down to a rather sad flicker now.

Brexit and RIP Queen Elizabeth II. 

Older Germans still have fond memories and associations with Britain, and the stereotypes persist: cups of tea, fish & chips, politeness. But it’s all a little faded and dusty these days, like something hanging out too long in the sun at a seafront stall. 

But I get the impression that many Germans, especially the young, regard Britain as expensive, hostile and troubled. And not particularly “cool”. I was shocked not long ago when a relative of my husband’s (a young man who’s mixed race) said he wasn’t keen on going to Britain as it’s “so racist.”

It’s a sad state of affairs, but I’m not without hope. The salvation of Britain may lie in the specific, the local, rather than the not-so-great whole. Whisky, for example, is undergoing a huge surge of interest here. While many of the little British grocery stores have closed down, whisky shops are thriving - even in the one-pig town where I used to live! 

RETROWURST: Edeka August 2007

 

The subject of this month’s Retrowurst is Edeka - the German Coop. Back in 2007, it was already over 100 years old and thriving. The supermarket had recently introduced a new corporate identity with “blackboard visuals” - focussing on the handmade/local element of their freshness and food strength.

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Whenever retail successes are discussed, in Germany as elsewhere, most of the talk centres on the discounters, such as Aldi or Kik, or on the new kids on the block (or stores in the mall, or sites on the Web.) But, just as the centenarian Marks & Spencer continues to be one of the UK’s retail success stories, Germany’s “old lady” of the grocery world, Edeka, has likewise enjoyed similar success here over the last few years.

 

Edeka’s story is an interesting exercise in making a very old concept relevant for today, not by throwing everything away and replacing with a hip new idea, but by looking at the original concept and seeing what, within this, is both relevant to today’s customers and offers a point of difference to the competition.

 

Edeka, which is either 100 or 109 years old this year, depending on how you look at it, is the German “Co-Op”. Edeka can trace its roots back to 1898 when Fritz Borrmann founded the “Einkaufsgenossenschaft der Kolonialwarenhändler in Halleschen Torberzirk zu Berlin”, of which “E.d.K” or Edeka” as you would speak it is the abbreviation. As an aside, I have noticed quite a few brand names in German are actually abbreviations of this type. As everyone knows, German is a language full of words that go on for sentences if not paragraphs, so it is useful to talk about a KiTa rather than a Kindertagesstätte (Kindergarten), about KiBa, which is a mixture of cherry (Kirsch) and banana juice, or to address someone as HaPe, who is normally saddled with the name Hans-Peter.

 

In 1907, Borrmann and his co-op partners formed the “Verband deutscher Kaufmännischer Genossenschaftler” or German Co-operative Society under the motto “Gemeinsam sind wir stark (Together we are strong).”

 

One hundred years later, Edeka is the number one grocery/food retailer in Germany, ahead of Aldi and Lidl. Edeka has a 26% share, ahead of next competitors Rewe at 18% and Aldi at 17%. There are over 10,000 stores in Germany and turnover is €37.2 bn. The growth and success of Edeka in recent years coincided with the appointment of Alfons Frenk as CEO of Edeka AG in 2003. Herr Frenk is an ambitious man with a tough background behind him. As one of six children growing up in a poor family in post-war Germany, Frenk knew shortages and hardship from an early age, resulting in an obsessive drive never to squander resources and to watch every pfennig. Herr Frenk is not content with Edeka’s number 1 position: he wants to reach a market share of 30% and to expand at a rate of opening 200 new Edeka stores per year. Part of his strategy is acquisition: Edeka has recently bought Spar and the discounter chain Netto.

 

While other retailers see diversification into non-food areas and expansion outside Germany as the way forward, Frenk’s strategy is exactly the opposite. Edeka has set its focus on fresh food and on Germany, withdrawing Edeka’s interests outside of the home market. This focus, combined with very keen attention to costs has meant an increase in profits of +60% since Frenk was appointed. Although it is tempting to make comparisons with a figure like Ingvar Kamprad, one must remember that Alfons Frenk is the head of a very different organisation to an IKEA or an Aldi. Edeka is a co-operative and its CEO does not have ultimate power.

 

Edeka has an extremely complicated organisational structure with regional co-operatives and societies. The store managers are mostly self-employed and the whole system has something rather mediaeval about it, akin to the feudal system with its regional barons. It was something of a revolution that Frenk managed to centralise Edeka’s computer system and his main challenge is to get the various factions working together to combine their strength and to improve overall efficiency.

 

Edeka’s heterogeneity is reflected in the different names it uses for its outlets, dependent on type, size and region. Under the “E” Edeka branding are “nah & gut”, “active markt”, “neukauf”, “center” and “C&C Großmarkt” (the Cash & Carry). In addition, a number of other retail chains such as Spar and Netto now belong to Edeka.

 

For the last two years, Edeka has been running an image campaign focusing on the main consumer benefit or point of difference for a heterogeneous, co-operative with local focus: “Freshness”, particularly in the areas of fruit, vegetables, meat and dairy produce. The staff and their specialist knowledge are key differentiating factors for Edeka and, although fresh food only represents 25% of the turnover, the margins are highest in this area. The tagline “Wir lieben Lebensmittel”, (“We love food groceries”) and the key visual of the blackboard stand for the specialist knowledge and passion of the staff and for the “handmade” and “local” feel that Edeka has:

 

 

 

 

But, while Edeka are single-minded in their brand communication, in retail one cannot ignore the competition. To compete with Aldi, Edeka have their own shop-in-shop “Gut und Günstig” where basic packaged groceries are offered at Aldi-like prices. The trick here, say Edeka, is to offer exactly the same deal where the public know the price to the nearest cent, such as milk, but to allow a few cents more on products that are not daily basics, such as mustard

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Edeka goes from strength to strength. In 2024, it was the 6th biggest supermarket in Europe, and turnover has more than doubled since the €37.2 bn quoted in the article to €75.3 bn.

The brand has a clever balance in its communication - advertising that gets noticed - sometimes cheeky, even provocative. A good example here is the brand throwing its political weight around in its anti-AfD advertising and action. I’m generally not a huge fan of brands and politics, but somehow Edeka gets away with it, in my view. 

Maybe that’s because of the solid consistency of the blackboard/Wir lieben Lebensmittel approach - definitely still going strong. And still looking fresh.

RETROWURST: Apples May 2007

 

It’s the merry month of May and apple blossom time - and 18 years ago, my Extrawurst article was all about apples. The varieties, the orchards, the cakes, the juice and that Hessian speciality, Apfelwein.

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Around about this time of year, on the gentle hills around Frankfurt, the orchards are in full bloom, which brings me on to the subject of the German – or more specifically, Hessian, love-affair with the humble apple. Although the Germans are only fourth in the European league of apple-growers, behind Poland, France and Italy, they are passionate about their apples, particularly in the Bundesland in the middle of Germany, Hessen, where I live.

 

Some 1,500 apple varieties are grown in Germany, but only 30-40 of these are widely available or commercially important. The number of varieties in general is declining with fewer and fewer home-grown varieties available in the supermarkets. The traditional way of growing apples, the Streuobstwiese, where a mix of different fruit trees of different ages co-exist in an orchard, together with typical fauna and flora, is also on the decline, being taken over by more formal – and efficient, from a commercial view – plantations. The decline of the Streuobstwiese is of concern, not only to environmentalists, but also to honey producers and many average Germans. Especially in the area around Frankfurt, it is not uncommon for people to own a few trees in such an orchard and to sell the fruit off in the autumn to one of the local producers of Apfelwein, of which more later! In almost every village there will be an active Apple or Fruit Tree Club, whose members vigorously undertake such projects as reviving old apple varieties or giving technical demonstrations of tree pruning to local schools!

 

Apples are a mainstay of German cooking and baking. The average German recipe book will give you more recipes for Apfelkuchen than you could have dreamed possible. There are apple crumble cakes, apple sponge cakes, apple strudels and even cakes made with Apfelwein! In addition, Germans munch through litres of Apfelmus, which is like apple sauce, or baby food, depending on how you look at it, every year. Apfelmus is available in huge jars in every Supermarket and, instead of a couple of spoonfuls with the Sunday roast pork; Germans ladle it over yoghurt, pancakes, quark and specially made potato fritters, or Kartoffelpuffer.

 

Moving on to the subject of juice, the Germans are a pretty thirsty nation when it comes to fruit juice, slurping through 41litres per head per year. Of this, 11.7l is apple juice, followed by orange juice at 9.8l. Apple juice mixed with mineral water (Apfelschorle) is the acceptable non-alcoholic drink for adults and the standard for children whose parents don’t want to fill their little ones with additives and nasties. The apple juice available ranges from the “industrial” fizzy drink end to the “artisan” organic end of the market.

 

At the “industrial” end is the Coca-Cola brand, “Lift”, which is a sparkling apple/water mix and sold in 1.5l Coca-Cola bottles. On the website, www.lift-schorle.de, you can see the rather alarming TV ad for Lift: it gave me bad dreams, anyway! At the gentler end of the market are a lot of more “authentic” products, often produced by smaller, local producers. Visiting the websites of these, you can easily overdose on total fruity wholesomeness! One example of a fruit juice producer local to me is www.rapps.de, another is www.beckers-bester.de.

 

Rapps also produce Apfelwein, the “national drink” of the Frankfurt region. Apfelwein is a very tart form of cider with 5.5-7% alcohol. It’s said, even by locals, that it takes at least two or three glasses before it begins to taste OK! Apfelwein is the official name, but there are almost as many different names in dialect for this drink as there are producers, centred on Franfurt in mid- and south-Hessen. Apfelwein was first recorded in Frankfurt in 1600, but there was already a Reinhaltsbestimmung (Purity Charter, similar to that for beer) in 1638, which producers still have to follow. And although too much Apfelwein can be a disaster for stomach and guts, it rarely gives you a headache!

 

Apfelwein is available at most pubs and restaurants but there are also Apfelweinlokale, marked by a green wreath over the doors, which specialise in the drink and traditional hearty Hessian food to accompany it (N.B: not recommended for vegetarians or the faint-hearted!). The rituals surrounding Apfelwein are many and strictly adhered to, even after a number of glasses! The wine is brought to the table in a large blue and grey earthenware jug, called a Bembel, which keeps it cool, and is drunk out of diamond-patterned glasses called Gerippte. It is said that these glasses come from the time before cutlery, when fingers greasy with boiled pig fat would be more likely to be able to hang onto a glass with a texture to it, especially after the second Bembel!

 

The famous Apfelwein producers in and around Frankfurt include www.possmann.de, who also run the Ebbelwei Express, a brightly-coloured tram that tours Frankfurt while the guests enjoy a glass or two of Possmann’s best. The largest producer is www.hoehl-hochstadt.de . There are many smaller producers around and many of the juice producers also make Apfelwein. One such is www.kelterei-heil.de, where the website reflects the image of the apple to the Germans: a kitschy country idyll. You will be disappointed to see that you have missed the Apfelblütenwanderung(“Apple Blossom Hike”) on the 1^st May, but you can still enjoy the photos of hearty and wholesome German folk yomping through pretty orchards on the site.

 

However, hidden within this website are signs that the humble German apple may be getting subversive in its old-age. Kelterei Heil has launched a new product called Fichtekranz. Actually, on closer inspection, it is clear that it is not a new product at all but some sort of sheep in wolf’s clothing. Fichtekranz is none other than good old Apfelwein mixed with water or with lemonade but bottled with a minimalist, trendy label. The strap line actually translates as “from happy apples” (meaning, hopefully, that it is organic, rather than injected with any dubious substances!). There is a chance for hip young things to participate in the brand, by designing their own label for it, in return for a bit of word-of-mouth promotion. Fichtekranz is available in Frankfurt’s hipper clubs which would never have dreamed of serving anything as rustic as Apfelwein.

 

So, maybe this is the way forward for a traditional drink: to use the tactics of Bionade and move Apfelwein away from the boiled pig legs and into the “see and be seen” clubs of the big city.

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As I expected, the Apfelwein producers have been busy getting a bit of modern marketing in the whole mix. The Walther family live in our street and they, for example, are constantly launching new variants based on Apfelwein to increase its appeal. There’s a rosé variety and an Apfel Secco, reflecting trends in (mainly female) wine consumption. And there are special editions, too - for example made from Braeburn apples. The design and idea has a bit of a “single malt” vibe.

But it’s not just about hip and trendy. The interest in regional, local and authenticity has given Apfelwein a boost, I suspect. Provenance and history are now something to be celebrated, not disguised in the latest cool outfit. Apfelwein culture was added to the UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage list in 2022. A former colleague of mine has opened the Apfelwein Galerie in Frankfurt, offering tastings as well as art and photography. And just down the road, in Hanau, we now have an Apfelwein Museum.

I’m hoping that in eighteen years, our harvest from Carlos (our very own apple tree) will be more impressive than last year’s ;)

Alperol

It’s 15 years since I first marvelled about Aperol in these pages, and I hate to think how much of the stuff I’ve knocked back in that time. Funny that I commented in the link that Martini and Cinzano seemed to win the ubiquitous prize - it’s quite the opposite these days.

Of course, plenty of other contenders want a slurp of the Aperol glass (they’re usually big enough, those glasses) - and I blogged about a Swedish rival here. 

But while Andalö at least made some attempt at a backstory, my latest discovery doesn’t even pretend.

And maybe that’s refreshing.

It was waiting to happen, really. The South Tyrol “symbiosis of contrasts” (‘scuse my BS) in an “Aperitivo Alpino” - with citrus fruits plus Alpine herbs, fruity and bitter, it’s the taste of South Tyrol - Alpitz.

While there’s no invented backstory, the brand comes from a long-established distillery in South Tyrol, the pack design with its cheerful primary colours is very fetching - and it tastes pretty good, spritzed up with a bit of Prosecco and sparkling water. 

Now, I’m wondering how long it'll take some bright marketing spark to rediscover Cynar?

RETROWURST: Crisps & Snacks January 2007

This is a good one for January, where I’m sure I’m not the only one feeling a touch bloated and in need of some serious exercise in the fresh air. In the UK, I was addicted to crisps from an early age, and used to sneak off to spend my dinner money on crunchy snacks instead of Spam fritters. Probably healthier, actually.

One piece of evidence for my Teutonisation is that I really don’t eat so many crisps now. Certainly not the kgs mentioned in this Extrawurst from January 2007. In fact, I’m beginnng to develop a distaste for the nibbles/picky bits/grab bags/finger food/grazing business, although that could be because the words are so ghastly. 

Here’s the state of play in the world of crisps and snacks eighteen years ago ...

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Did you know that the Brits eat, on average, more than five times as many potato crisps per year as the Germans? The UK leads potato crisp consumption in Europe with an amazing 3 ½ kg per head per year, while Germans consume a mere 700g per head per year, one of the lowest consumption levels in Europe. In fact, only the Italians are less enthusiastic about crisps, with a consumption level of 600g per head per year.

 

Pondering on the reasons for the difference, I came up with the following factors. First of all, we should look at market development and history. Crisps have simply not been around for very long in Germany, relatively speaking. There is quite an interesting story behind their introduction to Germany which goes that a German show jumper, Irmgard von Opel, was on holiday in the U.S with her husband Heinrich and son Carlo when she discovered potato chips and decided that they would sell well in her home country. In 1962, the family set up the first production of Chio Chips, the brand name coming from the initials of the first names of the family. In 1968, another brand, Chipsfrisch, which would become the brand leader, was launched.

 

If one looks at the market for crisps here, it is relatively underdeveloped in terms of varieties, product forms, pack sizes and distribution outlets. Typically, crisps come in a large (175 g) pack size and the range of flavours is limited. The biggest seller is Ungarisch, which is a sort of Paprika flavour, followed by plain salted. Other flavours such as Pepperoni or Chinese are available, or even our beloved Salt & Vinegar, but these are reported to be successful only in cosmopolitan, city areas.

 

I have mentioned that distribution is more limited here in Germany. Crisps are not nearly as ubiquitous here as in the UK, where they can be found in school lunchboxes through to pubs. Neither of these places would harbour crisps in Germany, for reasons I’ll come on to! Instead, crisps are confined to the supermarket and perhaps the petrol station. Related to the ubiquity of crisps in terms of where you can buy them, habits are very different in terms of where and when you eat crisps. Crisps are really only eaten in the evening, in front of the TV. There is some use at parties but not to the extent seen at the UK and crisps tend to be consumed more in private at-home situations.

 

A lot of this has to do with a certain difference in food culture. In Germany, there is far less of the “snacks and nibbles” mentality than one gets in the UK. A party of any kind without proper food supplied by the host is frowned on and the idea of any kind of “nibbles” before a dinner party would be thought of as disrespectful to the food that is to come. One could say that there is a far less “playful” attitude to food, which is where crisps miss out. Although German food can tend toward the heavy and stodgy, there is an innate belief in proper, natural, unprocessed food. In this sense, although there is no Jamie Oliver watching over children’s lunchbox content, few German mothers would dream of putting anything other than a cheese or meat sandwich and fruit in their child’s lunch box. And anyway, the huge packets of crisps here simply aren’t designed for little hands.

 

But before you all start thinking that the weird Germans are totally missing out on the idea of something salty and crunchy to go with their Bier, we must remember the Salzstange or Brezel. Perhaps one of the reasons that crisps didn’t catch on was that their place was already occupied by pretzels. If a German bar offers any savoury snacks at all, it is likely that they will be little salty sticks. And pretzels often pop up at children’s parties and even in lunchboxes, albeit with some of the over-zealous Muttis scraping the salt off first. Pretzels are even thought to have medicinal properties, with a diet of Coca-Cola and Salzstangen considered a worthy alternative to Imodium to combat “the runs”.

 

In terms of the brand landscape for savoury snacks in total, the three main players are the leader, Intersnack, who own the Funny-Frisch (www.funny-frisch.de ) and Chio (www.chio.de ) brands, Lorenz Bahlsen Snack World (kings of pretzels and nuts) and Stöver who produce a lot of Own Label. Growth in the “stacked” crisp area is also building Pringles into a major brand. 

 

The only other product forms of real note in the market are Tortilla Chips and dips and Erdnuss Flips or peanut puffs. Minor products include onion rings, “Hula Hoops”, “Chiplets”, shaped savoury biscuits and ribbed crisps.

 

There is relatively little innovation in the market, but what innovation there is focuses on the lower fat/ natural area, for example, “Naturals” from Lorenz. But I think the door is wide open for more innovation in the gourmet area and the health/well-being area for adults and children. However, I think pickled onion flavour Monster Munch probably wouldn’t be a winner.

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Oddly, this is a situation that hasn’t changed hugely. There’s been an increase in snack and crisp consumption here, up to around 1.5 kg pro annum, although I couldn’t find any good, reliable recent figures. On the other hand, the Brits are munching more than ever before, at about 4.5 kg per munchy mouth - the results of which are all too apparent in any shopping centre.

Pringles and its imitators has become quite a staple here and there have been developments in Kettle Crisps and snacks made from chickpeas and other vegetables. A few weird new flavours have cropped up (Chilli Cheese Fries - the thought makes me quite queasy).

But it’s still big bags and, as far as I know, not much sneaking its way into the children’s lunchboxes. 

Condiments of the season

 

The clocks have gone back, the feather duvets retrieved from the cellar and the beergarden afternoons definitely a memory of sunnier days. At the weekend, I experienced a last stand in miniature from a Bavarian speciality that I associate firmly with the dog days of summer through to the autumn jollity of the Oktoberfest.

At a birthday party, we were served canapés of Weißwurst, Salzpretzel and a dollop of Süßsenf. Rather like this:

Weißwurst is a delicacy that doesn’t have the immediate appeal to Brits of a Bratwurst. I remember meeting a UK colleague in Munich at around 11am and his stomach definitely turned when I ordered this particular snack and started tucking in. The sausage itself is made from veal (I’m not over-keen to find out which particular bits), pork fat, parsley and spices. The discarded sausage skin does look particularly unappealing. Traditionally, these sausages were made in the morning and butchers and restaurants were keen to get rid of them by mid-day. Again, I’d rather not ask too many questions as to why.

They are, however, delicious and there’s a certain charm in the way they are served, floating around in a terrine-type bowl with lion’s head handles and maybe a Bavarian flag pattern:

 

Now, you may have noticed that mini-terrine of brown stuff to the right. Once again, I’ll refrain from saying what this resembles, but it is Süßsenf - sweet mustard. The mustard seeds are roasted and the mustard is sweetened with sugar, apple purée or honey. The first commercial producer was Develey, who are still going strong today. But the market leader is the one pictured above - Händlmaier. 

Karl and Johanna Händlmaier opened their first butcher’s shop in Regensburg in 1910, and Johanna created the Süße Hausmachersenf  in 1914, to go with the sausages they sold to eat on the premises.  Son Joseph and his wife Luise took over the butchers’ shops after the 2nd WW, and it is Luise who turned these into a thriving mustard and condiments business after her husband’s death in 1955. She’s the lady depicted on the label, of course.

The website is full of Weißwurst wisdom, including the etiquette for eating the sausages. In typical German fashion, it’s less about “how do you eat yours?” and more about orderly steps and correct procedures. 

Whichever way, it’s fun to be writing about sausages again on Extrawurst. It’s been a while!

  

RETROWURST: Baking November 2006

 

Advent is fast-approaching so it’s time to whisk yourself into the Home Bakery. 

I wonder if I’d have taken up baking if I hadn’t moved over here?

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If you were to wander around the shops in Germany at the moment, one thing that you wouldn’t fail to notice – apart from the explosion of Christmas decorations – is that the baking season is well and truly upon us. Every supermarket has displays of enticing baking ingredients and every Tchibo, Lidl or Aldi that does weekly products has a brochure with a picture of mother and cute daughter in red aprons, surrounded by an overwhelming collection of ingredients and gadgets from electrical cookie cutters to non-fat donut makers. This time of year, the just-before-advent season in middle to end-November is the absolute peak season for baking in Germany. It is expected that, by the first Sunday of Advent, that one should have baked enough Plätzchen – biscuits to you and me – to last you well until the New Year.

 

Although the pre-advent season is the peak of the baking-frenzy, Germany does have a strong culture of baking at most other times of year. Baking is one of those activities that combine a number of typically German values and obsessions. First and foremost, baking is an activity that has to do with family and togetherness: the idea of a gemütlich afternoon with advent candles, coffee and home-baked goodies in the close family circle is bound to get most Germans a little teary. Of course, most of the baking is done by women and this re-affirms many of the attitudes that the likes of Eva Hermann are trying to push back onto German women: that being a good Hausfrau should be the sole goal in life.

 

Another German value that baking reflects is that of tradition. Recipes are handed down through the generations and generations may come together to bake. The grandmother may be the expert on Stollen while the granddaughter may be a dab hand at the Zimtsternen. Most families will have very set traditions of where and when they enjoy their Adventskaffee. At other times of year, too, certain types of cakes and pastries come into their own:  Apfelkuchen and Pflaumenkuchen in the autumn, for example, or Berliner (doughnuts) at Carnival time.

 

Finally, baking gives wonderful expression to the German love of gadgets. It is quite amazing to see what even the average German household has in the way of baking gadgets. Several cake tins in different sizes, formats and materials are just the start of it. A waffle maker is standard, and cupboards and drawers will be full of everything from a plastic doily-like thing to make pretty icing sugar patterns with to a special “click shut and carry” plastic case for your Gugelhupf. German ingenuity really comes to the fore in the world of candied peel and chocolate hundred and thousands.

 

While baking seems to be something that has undergone a revival in the UK, in Germany, it never went away. There does not seem to be the cult of the celebrity chef here, although there are a couple of me-too German versions of Nigella or Jamie Oliver knocking around here, if that is not too unpalatable a thought. Perhaps this is because the real celebrities here are those millions of ordinary women who bake regularly for the Landfrauen stand at the town Fest, or the open day at the Kindergarten or simply for Sunday Kaffee und Kuchen, advent or not. Cakes and other baked goods are simply a part of life in Germany that “belongs to it” as they say here. At flea markets or craft fairs, the price to have a stand is usually a couple of Euros and a home-made cake. At every town or club celebration, there will be a cake stand. And any time that you invite someone around for coffee, no matter how informal the occasion, there will be at least some expectancy that you’ll have gone to a bit of trouble to bake something.

 

All this is not to say, however, that bought cakes have no place in Germany. Of course they do, but the homemade cakes are seen as the norm. In the supermarket, the range of pre-packed cakes is fairly narrow compared to the UK and is typified by the sort of cakes made by Bahlsen (www.bahlsen.de): relatively simple “slab” cakes. These are normally bought when you have a good excuse for not having baked yourself or for when people pop round spontaneously (not a very common occurrence in Germany, where everything is planned and double-planned). The cake is then produced with a rather apologetic face and comments will go along the lines of “well, of course these shop-bought cakes are adequate but it’s not nearly as good as your Aunt Waltraud’s.”

 

On the other hand, fresh “bought” cakes have a different status. Bäckereis and Konditoreis are sprinkled liberally all over Germany rather like flaked almonds or chopped pistachios. Cakes and Torten can be bought to be consumed on the premises or carefully packed for the Gemütlichkeit of one’s own home. The selection of cakes in these places tends to be extravagant to say the least but even here, there is often the feeling that, although the Torte may look like a work of art, Aunt Waltraud has probably still got the edge when it comes to the taste.

 

To get back to the business of home-baking, one brand really does rule the roost. While Maggi is the queen of the savoury kitchen in Germany, then Dr. Oetker is the king of baking. Dr. Oetker (www.droetker.de ) is an iconic, sprawling institution of a brand and seems to have dictated what goes on in German kitchens for over a hundred years. As well as providing all of the baking ingredients from baking powder to gelatine to flavourings to vanilla sugar – all carefully dosed-out and pre-portioned – Dr. Oetker also does a range of cake and pastry mixes and, importantly, for the role of the brand as bakery oracle, cookery and baking books. More than merely recipe books, these books have become indispensable classics in the “how to” art of baking. With increased mobility, these books can become a mother-substitute for young women wondering exactly how you do remove a sponge base from a 28cm Springform tin.

 

While Dr. Oetker is without doubt the leading player on the home baking stage, there is also a large cast of specialist supporting brands. When it comes to decorating your cake and specific ingredients, Schwartau (www.schwartau.de ), whose main strength as a brand is actually in fruit and jam, have everything you need from pre-zested lemon to poppy-seed filling. Toppits (www.toppits.de ) are specialists in baking paper products. And in the area of gadgetry, you cannot escape the presence of Fackelmann (www.fackelmann.de ) with their ingenious devices for the kitchen.

 

Finally, it is not all deep-rooted tradition in the world of home-baking, contrary to expectations. New trends and movements in other food and drink areas are seized upon enthusiastically in the baking world. In fact, Dr. Oetker publishes a book called Modetorten in which you’ll find – in addition to the expected Cappuccino and Latte in cake versions – cake recipes with Coca Cola and Fanta and even cakes in the shape of car tyres and snowboards.

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Of course, since 2006, Insta, Pinterest and TikTok have all become mini baking shows. Even I’ve joined in with my #sicklycakes 

Dr. Oetker’s Modetorten look as scrumptious and preposterous as ever online these days - anyone fancy an Aperol-Spritz Cake?