Stille Nacht

It's Christmas Eve... or, at least it is for the next four minutes... and we've just finished up our  sampling of traditional specialties, including escargot, fois gras, chestnuts and, to wash it down, Amy's homemade eggnog.  It's been a bit difficult to get into the proper Christmas spirit -- there are minimal decorations in the village and the closest hope we have for a white christmas is a really heavy frost.

With that in mind, we decided to take a road trip this past weekend to take my mother to some traditional European Christkindlemarkts.  We rented a car and drove to Basel, Switzerland and then Saturday drove up to Strasbourg, France.  Basel has a well-regarded Christmas Market and it lived up to its reputation... at least, after two or three mugs of Glühwein it seemed pretty good.

 Look at all those lights...

Strasbourg is a gorgeous city and they really know how to deck the streets out for the season (they had real chandeliers hanging over the streets for God's sake!) but sadly the Christkindlemarkt was more like a bad Walmart Boxing Day sidewalk sale.  Amy thinks that characterization is a bit harsh.  They did have some great food (you take a pretzel and bury it in cheese and bacon... there should be a Nobel Prize for this), and the brilliance of the 16 ounce cup of Glühwein can not be understated, but there was definitely a more "mass-produced" feel to this one as compared to Basel.

The beauty of both cities though was the sausages.  One of the things we will miss most not being home for Christmas is Grandma Hile's (born and raised in Frankfurt) "hot dog" Christmas Eve, where every varitety of German sausage is chased with pickled herring and beet-soaked eggs, and washed down with the beverage of your choice.  

At lunch in Strasbourg, the only restaurant that had any open tables was a beer haus with a food menu limited to sausages and pretzles (perfect!).  The beer menu had something in the neighborhood of 42 seasonal beers (oh my).  The sausages came four links to a paper plate, with a healthy dab of spicy dijon on the side and put a big, giant smile on Amy's face because they reminded her of home.  And back in Basel we even picked up a Stollen because apparently, these Germans actually eat that. 

We of course partook in the Swiss obsession with melted cheese as a main ingredient.  It's really hard to go wrong with any dish that includes melted cheese and cherry liquor as its main players.  I learned a few things, such as: Kirsch is not just for fondue anymore -- drop an ounce or two in your Glühwein and you'll be amazed at what you'd consider purchasing.  Also, once you've had 2 or 5 mugs of Glühwein, you might want to pass on riding the mini-merry-go-round with your kids -- especially when they choose the spinning tea-cup instead of the pretty horsey.  Ugh.

The drive home set us in the perfect Christmas spirit as we drove through snow-covered Alpine meadows and under the shadows of white-capped peaks.

The rest of the week here was a bit hectic but we did manage to corral the herd into the Cathedral in Uzes for the "family" mass at 6:00 Christmas Eve.  We even stuck it through for over an hour, beating a stealthy escape just before they took communion and surely would have discovered our pagan... er... Protestant status.  Singing Silent Night in French on Christmas Eve in a 400 year-old French Cathedral is something I will keep with me for a long long time.  Juggling my squirming, cranky, restless, over-tired, under-stimulated kids for an hour is something I hope I forget by morning (excuse me while I go pour another Toddy).

Jesus, Lord at Thy birth,

Jesus, Lord at Thy birth.

Merry Christmas to everyone who finds their way to these pages.