I Want Me Some Hacked Flesh

Metzgerei = Butcher

One day last week, in a remarkable coincidence, my dear and wise uncle sent me this article about German meat and butchers. It must have been fate, because that very day I was contemplating how to go to the butcher nearby our apartment to get some ground beef so I could make some chili with some chili seasoning I brought to Germany with me. I find I share some of the author’s curiosity and misgivings about German food and the frank language used to describe it.

First of all, I love that we have a butcher. Sure, I can just as readily go to the grocery store and buy pre-packaged meats – maybe the “easier” option for a non-German speaker like me – but as the article points out, Germany is renown for its meats and its specialty butchers (which sadly is a trade that is in decline as more people opt for supermarket convenience).

I adore this idea of frequenting specialty food shops like butchers, bakers, cheese shops, and vegetable stands. I missed this in America, where grocery shopping seemed a sanitized, impersonal duty instead of a delight. I want to get to know my local merchants. The shops are smaller, more atmospheric, and the food quality is stellar. I want to know where my food comes from and I want it to be fresh.

The quality of meat from a butcher is unbelievable. Usually The Mann and I go together and he orders the meat. The first time was when we made some beer beef stew, so we went to the butcher, and The Mann requested some chuck meat. The butcher asked what we wanted, and he sliced it fresh right there from a bigger block of meat. I couldn’t believe the quality of the meat and how inexpensive it was. In America a specialty meat shop would be outrageously expensive (in my experience).

So last week I wanted some ground beef from the butcher. I considered just having The Mann stop by the shop on his way home from work. After all, how do I know how to order it? Layered within that is my reticence about going into these types of shops (despite my strong desire to do so), because of my lack of language skills at the moment and my timidity about knowing how to order something. It’s funny, I seem to have this unreasonable fear, like these people will laugh at me, or be unwilling to help me, or perhaps they will sternly pronounce “You shall not have this meat/bread/cheese/cake, etc. because you cannot speak German properly.” Silly, I know.

But I decided after all that, no, I cannot always rely on The Mann to do these things. I need to learn to do it myself. I need to do it for my own pride and self-satisfaction. I need to know that I can simply order two pounds of ground beef for dinner.
So I pulled out our copy of this fabulous book – which has proved absolutely indispensable to me here – that has photos of about everything imaginable in everyday life – anatomy, sports, foods, clothing, etc. – and then has the word for that item in five languages – English, German, French, Italian, and Spanish. I looked up the meats page and found the word for ground beef – das Hackfleisch. Yep, that’s right. It translates as “hacked flesh.” Holy shit!

Then I went to the trusty iPhone, my savior in this country because of two indispensable apps – Unit Converter (converts everything – temperature, weight, volume, currency, etc.) and Ultralingua German/English (the most extensive German/English dictionary app I’ve found).

And then I put my caveman-style sentence together: Ich möchte neunhundert gramm das Hackfleisch. I want 900 grams hacked flesh.

Walking to the butcher, I practiced this phrase over and over in German with a grim smile on my face. I want 900 grams hacked flesh. I want 900 grams hacked flesh. (Snort!) Me want meat. Give me some lots of meat.

At the butcher counter, they greeted me and looked at me curiously and expectantly. I said in my caveman German: “Hallo. I want 900 grams hacked flesh.” They nodded. And then they got to work…hacking the flesh just for me in the grinder. It was like magically finding the key and opening a mysterious door. It worked! They are actually going to give me what I asked for! I was so pleased with myself that day for that one small thing that would be so incredibly easy back home.

Now, today, I am off to get me some fresh whole roasting chickin’. Wish me luck.

GREAT book!