The road at my door

Photograph taken by J. a couple of years ago in the Karwendel in Austria

My Dear Friend,

I suppose you have long thought before that I had forgotten you (or was dead) but my dear friend, I am still alive, and when I think of my Old friends you are always the first to come to mind. It will probably surprise you to hear from me down in this country but U.S was too small for the last two years I was there. I was restless. I wanted to see more of the world. I had seen all of the U.S that I thought was good.( ....) I visited the best cities and best parts of South A. till I got here. And this part of the country looked so good that I located, and I think for good, for I like the place better every day. I have 300 cattle, 1500 sheep and 28 good saddle horses, 2 men to do my work, also a good 4 room house, a warehouse, stable, chicken house and some chickens. The only thing lacking is a cook (...) and sometimes I feel very lonely for I am alone all day, and my neighbours don't amount to anything, besides the only language spoken is Spanish, and I don't speak it well enough to converse on the latest scandals so dear to the hearts of all nations. (...)

The climate here is a great deal milder than Ashley valley. The summers are beautiful, never as warm as there. And grass knee high everywhere and lots of good cold mountain water, but the winters are very wet and disagreeable , for it rains most of the time, but sometimes we have lots of snow, but it don't last long, for it never gets cold enough to freeze. I have never seen Ice one inch thick...

Robert Leroy Parker, otherwise known as Butch Cassidy writing to Mrs Davies from Argentina

The original Butch and Sundance probably weren't quite this good looking

I read that letter, part of Bruce Chatwin's In Patagonia, in the deserted auditorium of a cinema just before they turned down the lights. Something about it, imagining seeing the seasons change in the spectacular landscapes of Argentina and later the solitude in a room lit by candlelight makes me dream. It makes me think of the film with Paul Newman and Robert Redford which is one of my favourites but most of all, it leaves me restless for some kind of adventure myself. As I've said in another post, I'm not much of an explorer; there's a fear of the unknown, the inability to go without a real bed or a regular wash or be at the mercy of the elements. Basically, I'm a coward. At the same time though, the ordinary scares me too, the fear that every day might always end up being the same, a bit like Groundhog Day, so perhaps the answer is to look for small adventures in the places around me and leave the big adventures for bedtime reading and viewing. I love the open spaces of the western where people's dreams live and die, where you can ride off in any direction without meeting a soul for days.

Last week I finally got around to visiting the Pergamon Museum for the first time. It felt amazing walking in and seeing a huge altar which filled the massive space, an elaborate Roman market gate, delicately painted cups and pots, Islamic woven rugs and wooden pens for exquisite penmanship. There was also an opportunity to catch the Adventures of Tel Halaf exhibition with sculptures pieced back together from thousands of fragments in the rubble of the museum in Charlottenburg bombed in World War Two. They were originally discovered and excavated in part of what is today north east Syria by the German archeologist Max von Oppenheim and housed in a converted machine hall which served as a foundation. I imagine illustrious visitors like Agatha Christie or Samuel Beckett spending time in the glacial, unheated rooms in the bitter Berlin winter, standing in awe at the sight of these monumental blocks of sculptures and it also makes me long to follow in the footsteps of Lawrence of Arabia into the desert where there is no end to the horizon. It made me think back to when I visited the Alhambra at nightime when the moon was shining brightly. Others were content to take a blaze of photos and rush onto the next room but I lingered in the soft summer air for a moment, letting my mind drift back to times when people really lived here, listening to gentle song of the fountain nearby. I thought of Oppenheim in his luxurious apartment on the Ku'damm, decorated in the oriental style where visitors would go to admire his collection of treasures and listen to the strumming of a guitar as evening fell over Berlin.

From the Adventures of Tel Half exhibition

A book belonging to Oppenheim

Some of Oppenheim's personal collection for his apartment

Fragment of the Pergamon altar frieze

Islamic writing instruments

Luisa's zucchini fritters with yoghurt - you can find the recipe here

This is my 100th post and it feels amazing to get to such a large number. To mark the occasion, it only seems right to return to my starting point and make another cheesecake. This one is from a Nigella Lawson book which I somehow never got around to making because I preferred the London one. It's not a New York cheesecake in the truest sense because I reduced the original amount of Philadelphia, replaced the sour cream by whipping cream and added a tub of quark to make it lighter. Thanks again to all of you who take time to read such long posts and leave comments - I really appreciate it!

New York Cheesecake, adapted from Nigella Lawson's How To Be A Domestic Goddess

For the base

250g digestive biscuits (or graham crackers as you say in the U.S. Berliners, you can now buy these at Edeka and some Karstadt stores)

150g unsalted butter, melted

3 tbsp caster sugar

For the filling

2 tbsp cornflour

300g cream cheese

4 eggs, separated

2 tsp vanilla extract

250g quark (not low fat)

150ml whipping cream

1/2 tsp salt

200g caster sugar

zest of 1 lemon

1. Make the base by putting the biscuits in the mixer and pulsing until you have fine crumbs. Melt the butter in a pan or the microwave and pour onto the crumbs along with the 3 tablespoons of sugar. Pulse again so everything is blended and press the crumbs into the bottom of a springform tin with the back of a spoon so they're firm. Place the tin in the freezer while you get on with the filling.

2. Preheat the oven to 170°C and put in a baking sheet at the bottom to catch the inevitable drips . In a large bowl, combine the 200g sugar and the cornflour. Add the cream cheese, egg yolks and vanilla and blend, either by hand or with an electric blender. Slowly pour in the quark and whipping cream and beat well until the mixture is smooth then add the lemon zest and salt.

3. In another bowl, whisk the egg whites until stiff then fold them into the cream cheese mixture. Retrieve the cheessecake base from the freezer and gently pour in the filling.

4. Bake for between 60 and 90 minutes without opening the door until set and golden brown on top. Then turn off the heat and leave the cheesecake for 2 more hours in the oven, again without opening the door. Then open the door and leave the cheesecake for another hour.

Yum!

The edge of the water

I can remember very clearly the first and only time I went to Babelsberg before last weekend. It was L's birthday on a Sunday, the day when the clocks went forward and we woke up an hour later than planned. I had only just moved into a shared flat in Charlottenburg but already the bookshelves were full and my flatmate was spending a week in Italy with her family. I had been hoping to get the place to myself for that time but then her younger brother came to stay - a strange individual who walked barefoot along the streets of Berlin and made loud whooping noises behind the closed door of his sister's bedroom (she would later throw him out upon her return after discovering he'd drunk all her alcohol). L. was one of the first people I met in Berlin and pure California sunshine. She had the kind of charming giddiness that could make you forgive her anything, particularly when you were on your way to visit her at the agreed time and got a last minute call telling you not to come for another couple of hours because she was still at her old flat, skyping a friend back home. Because of her I went for long walks along the Spree and retreated to Dussmann's to kill the time. She was even more hopeless than me at finding her way in Berlin which meant picking her up from the underground station in case she got lost. On the night before her birthday, I made a roast vegetable lasagne and a large chocolate cake which we ate while watching The Devil Wears Prada before the sleepover. Sunday was truly springlike as we met a colleague of L's who was to be our guide in Potsdam. I remember seeing the castle through for the first time and A. telling us that the students didn't like living there in the past because they believed it was haunted. We paused outside the Kleines Schloss restaurant for coffee and cake by the river Havel before catching the bus to Sanssouci palace and finishing the evening at a little Indian restaurant in Charlottenburg. L. left Berlin a few years ago after a student in her class broke her heart. We said our farewells outside her apartment in Neuköln and she promised to come back. I wonder if she ever thinks of Babelsberg.

My trip last weekend couldn't have been more different; winter instead of spring, the ground covered in a thin layer of snow. I could have gone on Saturday and enjoyed the clear sunshine but chose my fitness classes instead. Looking back, perhaps I prefer the melancholy winter's day when the branches were tangled by the frozen fog and the deserted park looked like something out of a fairytale. I took no map and wandered along the paths without any clear aim, figuring that all paths lead to Rome, or in this case castles. There was something wonderful about turning a corner and seeing one rise up through the branches in front of you. Occasionally, I would hear voices of couples or families nearby but they had faded by the time I moved in their direction. Schinkel's Schloss Babelsberg is still being repaired like it was a couple of years ago and in the gardens, a stone dog is keeping watch. As you wander down and down, you catch glimpses of the river Havel with the Glienecke bridge reflected in the water's edge like a vintage mirror. Joggers and walkers wrapped up tightly make their way along the riverside path and just around the corner is the yellow form of the Kleines Schloss (or little castle) which may not be the very best place to eat but is certainly one of the most charming and a welcome spot to warm up over latte macchiato and Russian Zupfkuchen.

Walking through the park with frosty branches made me feel like I was lost in a forest as I tried to find the path back, thinking that it might have been better to leave a trail of white pebbles to mark my way like Hansel and Gretel. In Pankow later that afternoon, I couldn't resist watching Neil Jordan's Company of Wolves, a twist on werewolf tales based on Angela Carter stories, while eating a slice of my very first brioche with poppyseed. Even if nothing can compare with a fairytale, the day still seemed truly magical.

Coffee and Zupfkuchen at the Kleines Schloss on the river Havel

Last Saturday, the light was so exquisite that I couldn't resist the urge to get up early and take photos in the small park outide my building.

My building in the middle, next to the green one. I live on the top floor.

The old school in Pankow

Poppyseed brioche (brioche au pavot) from Pascale Weeks - you can find the original recipe in French here

Ingredients for 2 brioches

25cl full fat milk, gently warmed but not hot

50g sugar

1 sachet dried yeast

550g plain flour

1 level tsp of fine salt

2 eggs at room temperature, lightly beaten

100g soft butter

A little milk for glazing

Filling

A packet of poppyseed cream (in Germany, you can find Mohnback in all main supermarkets or you can use the recipe below to make your own)

Preparation

In a small bowl mix half of the warm milk with the sugar and the yeast and leave to rest at warm temperature for 10 minutes.

In a large mixing bowl, combine the flour and salt.

Make a well in the middle then pour in the yeast mixture.

Little by little, bring the flour back towards the centre then add the rest of the warm milk and the lightly beaten eggs. Knead the dough in the bowl or on your worktop for 10 minutes. The dough should be smooth and not at all sticky. Add more flour or water as needed.

Add the butter and knead for another 5 minutes.

Cover the bowl with a teatowel and leave to rise for 1-2 hours in a warm place (for example near the radiator) until the dough has doubled in size.

When that has happened, place the dough on a floured worktop and get rid of the air inside by pressing down with your hand. Divide equally into 3 (you can weigh it to be sure) and roll them out into three rectangles of roughly 15cm by 50cm. On each rectangle, spread a third of the poppyseed cream and then roll it up so it into a sausage shape. Cut each sausage in two.

Place 3 rolls onto a lined baking sheet and plait them together. Do the same thing with the other three rolls on a different sheet. Cover with a teatowel and leave for 30 minutes.

Pre-heat the oven to 180° and put a ramekin filled with water inside. Brush the brioches with milk to glaze them. Bake the first brioche for 30 minutes, then the second. As they rise so much in the oven, you shouldn't bake them on the same sheet.

You can tell if a brioche is ready by tapping it with the edge of a knife. It should sound hollow.

Leave to cool on a metal rack.

Poppyseed cream by Flo Bretzel

125g ground poppyseeds

185ml milk

40g sugar

1 sachet vanilla sugar

1 tablespoon peanut oil

4 tablespoons of fine semolina

4 tablespoons ground almonds

1 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 egg

Boil the milk then remove from the heat and leave to cool a little. You can grind your poppyseeds in the mixer then just pour in all the other ingredients and blend until smooth.