Robert P. Herbst
08-31-2007, 10:30 AM
GERMAN PIZZA
Written October 11, 2005 Fiction 1018 Words.
Copyright © 2005 Robert P. Herbst. All rights reserved.
by
Robert P. Herbst
About a month ago my friend Yodar Hoopelhoffer mentioned, during our morning coffee, he and Wally Turkey from Worsbrough Dale, England had decided to open a Pizza Parlor. Although Wally and Yodar aren’t really the brightest of lights it was a worthy dream and I openly encouraged both of them to move ahead with their idea as quickly as possible.
Then just last week the boys told me they had rented an ideal location for their Pizza Parlor and had decided to make German Pizza as a featured item. “German Pizza?” I thought, “Just how does one make a German Pizza?” The question puzzled me and kept me awake half the night. The next day I asked Yodar what he thought went into the making of a German Pizza.
Yodar was somewhat elusive about the details, but he did mention he intended to use Pumpernickel dough to form the crust of the Pizza and would be relying heavily on Caraway Seeds for flavor. Beyond this he only mentioned the cheese and I couldn’t get the kind of cheese he intended to use out of him. All he would do is to smile and say, “It’s a secret.”
Every restaurant needs some sort of secret dish to gain notoriety. So his keeping the secret seemed quite normal. Yodar and Wally had rented a place in the next block and I could see the front of their place from my little shop on the corner of Green and Jefferson Streets. I had to wonder as trucks with German names on them began to stop in front of their store. They appeared to be quite serious about selling German Pizza.
As Yodar had told me, “Hoopelhoffer is a German name so what would be more natural than for me to open a German Pizza Parlor?” Exactly where Wally Turkey fit into the German structure of Yodar’s idea still mystified me. Although Turkey aptly described Wally, it wasn’t necessarily a German name. Anyhow, the boys were having great fun with their new venture so who was I to try to ruin their plans?
The big day was soon to arrive and both Yodar and Wally made sure all their friends were on the guest list. Aside from myself, the other guests were, Sue A. Cidal, Perry Noid and Skitso Frenik along with some minor politicians looking for a hand out. There were many others, frankly, I think they just copied a page or two out of the phone book and invited everyone listed on them. All the other guests last names began with an “S”.
As I mingled with the crowd of guests, something I will do only for a good friend. I became conscious of a strange smell in the air. I pulled Wally aside and asked him what the awful odor was. Wally told me, “Yodar is in the kitchen making our first German Pizza to serve to our guests.” After giving this some careful thought, there did seem to be the smell of Caraway Seeds in the air. Maybe the terrible smell was only something which had spoiled in the kitchen.
Time crept onward and although the guests didn’t seem to like the “unusual” smell emanating from the kitchen, but no one was leaving. I guess the idea was to at least try the new pizza idea. It wasn’t long before there was a brass fanfare playing on the speaker system. Yodar must have had some trouble finding just the right music to play during the introduction of his new culinary delight. I could distinctly recognize the strains of Deutschland Uberaldes. The music was German alright, but hardly appropriate for the opening of a restaurant.
There were a few sour faces in the crown, but everyone seemed to understand they were not dealing with genius IQ’s. A certain amount of latitude had to be given as they were the Mount Perry town idiot and his buddy the village idiot of Worsbrough Dale, England. The whole crowd lined up to sample Yodar’s Pizza. The music moved on to some beer hall songs and those of ethnic lineage settled down to at least try the foul smelling stuff on the pan.
It was at this moment, there appeared to be, a definite movement toward the door. My turn at the pan came up and I had my first look at the Yodar and Wally German Pizza. It didn’t look bad, but it sure smelled funny. Examining the piece I had in my hand, I found what looked like Blood Wurst slices, Sauer Kraut and mystery cheese. It looked like cheese and it had an aroma I recognized from my childhood days with my father. But no, this couldn’t be what it smelled like.
As the guests left, I sat down with Yodar and Wally and asked what they had put on their German Pizza. I further advised them, if they didn’t tell me honestly what was on it, I was prepared to send it off to a local laboratory for a complete chemical analsis.
Yodar began by telling me what I already knew, the bread was Pumpernickel. This much was fairly obvious. Then he told me, there was chopped Salo (Boiled Pig Fat) spread over the pie and covered with Sour Kraut and sliced Dill Pickles. On top of this was sliced Blood Wurst, German Hard Salami, Weiner Snitzel, and Brat Wurst. Over these, Lieder Krantz (Limburger Cheese) was liberally applied and followed with grated Munster Cheese.
Knowing what it was, I tried a bite of it. It wasn’t bad at all, once you got past the smell. I sat back and helped the boys dispose of the left overs. Later I was glad for the short walk home, it was just enough to settle all the German Pizza I’d eaten. I’m not going to tell you what this stuff did to my innards. I’ll only say it will be a while before I try to eat German Pizza again.
Written October 11, 2005 Fiction 1018 Words.
Copyright © 2005 Robert P. Herbst. All rights reserved.
by
Robert P. Herbst
About a month ago my friend Yodar Hoopelhoffer mentioned, during our morning coffee, he and Wally Turkey from Worsbrough Dale, England had decided to open a Pizza Parlor. Although Wally and Yodar aren’t really the brightest of lights it was a worthy dream and I openly encouraged both of them to move ahead with their idea as quickly as possible.
Then just last week the boys told me they had rented an ideal location for their Pizza Parlor and had decided to make German Pizza as a featured item. “German Pizza?” I thought, “Just how does one make a German Pizza?” The question puzzled me and kept me awake half the night. The next day I asked Yodar what he thought went into the making of a German Pizza.
Yodar was somewhat elusive about the details, but he did mention he intended to use Pumpernickel dough to form the crust of the Pizza and would be relying heavily on Caraway Seeds for flavor. Beyond this he only mentioned the cheese and I couldn’t get the kind of cheese he intended to use out of him. All he would do is to smile and say, “It’s a secret.”
Every restaurant needs some sort of secret dish to gain notoriety. So his keeping the secret seemed quite normal. Yodar and Wally had rented a place in the next block and I could see the front of their place from my little shop on the corner of Green and Jefferson Streets. I had to wonder as trucks with German names on them began to stop in front of their store. They appeared to be quite serious about selling German Pizza.
As Yodar had told me, “Hoopelhoffer is a German name so what would be more natural than for me to open a German Pizza Parlor?” Exactly where Wally Turkey fit into the German structure of Yodar’s idea still mystified me. Although Turkey aptly described Wally, it wasn’t necessarily a German name. Anyhow, the boys were having great fun with their new venture so who was I to try to ruin their plans?
The big day was soon to arrive and both Yodar and Wally made sure all their friends were on the guest list. Aside from myself, the other guests were, Sue A. Cidal, Perry Noid and Skitso Frenik along with some minor politicians looking for a hand out. There were many others, frankly, I think they just copied a page or two out of the phone book and invited everyone listed on them. All the other guests last names began with an “S”.
As I mingled with the crowd of guests, something I will do only for a good friend. I became conscious of a strange smell in the air. I pulled Wally aside and asked him what the awful odor was. Wally told me, “Yodar is in the kitchen making our first German Pizza to serve to our guests.” After giving this some careful thought, there did seem to be the smell of Caraway Seeds in the air. Maybe the terrible smell was only something which had spoiled in the kitchen.
Time crept onward and although the guests didn’t seem to like the “unusual” smell emanating from the kitchen, but no one was leaving. I guess the idea was to at least try the new pizza idea. It wasn’t long before there was a brass fanfare playing on the speaker system. Yodar must have had some trouble finding just the right music to play during the introduction of his new culinary delight. I could distinctly recognize the strains of Deutschland Uberaldes. The music was German alright, but hardly appropriate for the opening of a restaurant.
There were a few sour faces in the crown, but everyone seemed to understand they were not dealing with genius IQ’s. A certain amount of latitude had to be given as they were the Mount Perry town idiot and his buddy the village idiot of Worsbrough Dale, England. The whole crowd lined up to sample Yodar’s Pizza. The music moved on to some beer hall songs and those of ethnic lineage settled down to at least try the foul smelling stuff on the pan.
It was at this moment, there appeared to be, a definite movement toward the door. My turn at the pan came up and I had my first look at the Yodar and Wally German Pizza. It didn’t look bad, but it sure smelled funny. Examining the piece I had in my hand, I found what looked like Blood Wurst slices, Sauer Kraut and mystery cheese. It looked like cheese and it had an aroma I recognized from my childhood days with my father. But no, this couldn’t be what it smelled like.
As the guests left, I sat down with Yodar and Wally and asked what they had put on their German Pizza. I further advised them, if they didn’t tell me honestly what was on it, I was prepared to send it off to a local laboratory for a complete chemical analsis.
Yodar began by telling me what I already knew, the bread was Pumpernickel. This much was fairly obvious. Then he told me, there was chopped Salo (Boiled Pig Fat) spread over the pie and covered with Sour Kraut and sliced Dill Pickles. On top of this was sliced Blood Wurst, German Hard Salami, Weiner Snitzel, and Brat Wurst. Over these, Lieder Krantz (Limburger Cheese) was liberally applied and followed with grated Munster Cheese.
Knowing what it was, I tried a bite of it. It wasn’t bad at all, once you got past the smell. I sat back and helped the boys dispose of the left overs. Later I was glad for the short walk home, it was just enough to settle all the German Pizza I’d eaten. I’m not going to tell you what this stuff did to my innards. I’ll only say it will be a while before I try to eat German Pizza again.