Hermann the German
by Rachel Ragg
I have a horrible feeling that I am about to commit murder.
I have a house guest for half term. Hermann only arrived five minutes ago, and he is already dominating my life.
He is sitting on my worktop covered loosely with a tea-towel.
Hermann, lest you wonder, is a German sourdough friendship cake. The idea is that you add to him, then give bits of him to your friends and eat the remainder.
As my daughter has lots of friends and likes cake, I agreed to let Hermann into our kitchen. He comes with instructions, which are always scary.
‘If I stop bubbling then I am afraid I am dead,’ the instructions declare gloomily.
Oh no. I have my family squawking for food. I have my guinea pigs bellowing for veggies. Now I have to remember to feed Hermann as well. I really do not want the death of a sourdough cake on my conscience.
But then I remember the last German house-guest I had. He used the mixing bowl for his cereal. A mega-pack of Shreddies lasted two days.
Compared to that, the cup of flour, sugar and milk that Hermann requires is a doddle. Long live Hermann!
Oh some woman in a mohair jumper tried to give me a lump of sourdough friendship cake. Luckily I haven’t got an oven
Cake mixture is always nicer than the cake. Dive right on in without feeding it.
I think you might say otherwise if you could smell Hermann. He is not appetising!
I do ot think I should like to masticate any part of Hermann, especially not when he’s bubbling. Germans can be demanding house guests. We have one who, when staying, requests to know at breakfast what the day’s schedule will be then writes it down.
Oh dear, oh dear, you are far too funny.
We have had several Germans to stay. One listed all the things he wanted to do while he was staying with us.
It included:
17.00 eat a sandwich
18.00 have fun
It was my first ever encounter with scheduled fun.
That sounds awful. Any photos?
Tee hee. He does not look quite inspiring enough for photos (and I’m not sure that I know how to insert them!!)
I was given one of those last year…enjoyed the yeasty smell, did my 10 days of feeding, then threw it all away as I didn’t have anyone to give it to/inflict it upon. Didn’t fancy eating it either….
Should have posted it back to Angela Merkel..(Why do I walways want to say Angela Merkin?)
Glad to report that Hermann is not dead yet!
Herman visited me just before Christmas. Trouble was, we were going away shortly and had far too much to do beforehand. So Herman ended up in the bin. I felt a bit guilty, but not guilty enough to retrieve and actually make the damn thing.
I can only imagine how many kitchen bins have become graveyards for deceased Hermanns…
I received one of these too. I baked one part into the cake (which was actually quite nice) but just couldn’t think of anyone to inflict the remaining mixture upon, so I’m afraid that the rest of my Hermann ended up in the bin too…I feel less guilty now that I know I’m not alone!
My word, Hermann really does get around…
How are you getting on with him? I found that people thought I was about crazy, talking about him like he was a real person. Yet each one of them now keep asking how he is!
Baked my Herman earlier today, and I have to say he tastes lovely! (See my blog for pics)
I do wonder where in the world he might have started… (and try not to think how clean their kitchens may or may not be) And I’m quite excited about passing on the next generation of Hermans!
It is good to hear from someone who has enjoyed eating Hermann rather than murdering him. This gives me hope, as the chopped apple bit was making me wonder if he might not be better off in the bin-grave.
I am now worried about trying to find three friends who have not already housed a Hermann. Otherwise I will find myself trapped in an eternal cycle of Hermann-recycling around my pallies.