***
In the early afternoon my sister and I went to the Viktoriapark in Kreuzberg, enjoying the cloudy weather after the heat of the past week, and conversed while perched on a wooden fence that overlooks the waterfall. Since she had her bike along, it would have been more trouble to reach the top of the Kreuzberg hill, with its monument to the Napoleonic Wars at the head of a double staircase, but there were many tourists and residents (speaking Australian-accented English, Turkish, etc.) who did go to the trouble. A dog was standing at the side of the waterfall on its owner's leash, and three or so people sat and read books on the rocky landings, as twin ranks of green trees stretched at the foot of the hill, along a little-trafficked boulevard where cyclists rode down the centres of their lanes.
I have rarely seen happier plant growth in Berlin: a round-leafed plantain grew large in the gravelly soil, fresh paler green leaves at the tips of a large boxwood were thriving, and a yew was shedding scraps of golden plant matter into the frothing brown water. And the late-leafed plane trees were spread out to the finest extent of their crowns. The lawns were tall and misty and pleasingly mysterious, and one could imagine gnats dreaming and wandering in the shadows at their edges.
Now and then my sister and I would move to the side, so that people could take pictures of themselves, families, and friends, in front of this backdrop.
***
After that exercise both of us felt uncomfortably warm after all, and (to perpetrate a pun) warmed to the idea of visiting the Schlachtensee. We prodded a brother to come along, and then rode a train out more and more into the southwestern edge of Berlin.
At the lake, we padded along the trail, amongst the white-flowering jasmine bushes and the joggers and the cyclists, before we found a nook at the earthy banks.
There we hung up our towels and clothing. And we trod out into the water, passed a beach ball to and fro until we were happy enough with the water temperature to be submerged up to the neck, and practiced beginners' breast strokes and doggy-paddling and underwater handstands. Ducklings above the water surface and fish (not much longer than a sardine) beneath the water surface frolicked nearby. Far away a white dead tree trunk leaned against the masses of evergreen and deciduous trees, above lighter contingents of reeds at the water's edge.
It was grey weather. The water felt cold at first, too, in the absence of direct sunshine. But despite what felt like a threat of thunder, lightning, or torrents of rain, the conditions were mild even long after a cool breeze arose and we decided to take the train home.
***
Aside from being in the mood to venture outside, I was in the frame of mind to cook, specifically 'Italian' food. I prepared two salads: one a fennel and radish salad with a lemon juice and olive oil vinaigrette after Jamie Oliver, the other, an inaccurate caprese salad of lamb's lettuce, mozzarella and tomato with a darker vinaigrette. We ate these with leftover baked things from breakfast. Then I made white Beelitz asparagus, topped with melted butter and salt and pepper; that, I admit, is not Italian at all. Lastly, I mixed mascarpone together with vanilla sugar and orange peel to eat with the blueberries, raspberries and strawberries that we had.
It was the first time I've knowingly eaten mascarpone, which I did not much like until I had added a lot of the orange peel. It has made me less enthusiastic about making a traditional tirami su, which I've thought in any case might be tastier although less noble if it had a semolina pudding lightened with vanilla custard in it instead of mascarpone or whipped cream. But, to be frank, I've bored my family horribly with my longing for a traditional tirami su for at least two decades, so I should take the plunge, try it and 'get it out of my system' soon.
I also bought white wine (from Italy, a soave) and cooled it in one side of the sink. Perhaps that was pretentious; if it was, I was horribly punished for it when family members (who shall go unnamed) put a used bowl and two dirty spoons in the basin, and mascarpone scum bobbed merrily alongside. I gave up, retrieved the bottle from the sink and put it back in the refrigerator. And we drank it with take-out pizza and sorbet in the late evening, and although I've found it both useless and expensive to even consider becoming the least bit precious about wines, I think it tasted rather good with the lemon sorbet.
I have rarely seen happier plant growth in Berlin: a round-leafed plantain grew large in the gravelly soil, fresh paler green leaves at the tips of a large boxwood were thriving, and a yew was shedding scraps of golden plant matter into the frothing brown water. And the late-leafed plane trees were spread out to the finest extent of their crowns. The lawns were tall and misty and pleasingly mysterious, and one could imagine gnats dreaming and wandering in the shadows at their edges.
Now and then my sister and I would move to the side, so that people could take pictures of themselves, families, and friends, in front of this backdrop.
***
After that exercise both of us felt uncomfortably warm after all, and (to perpetrate a pun) warmed to the idea of visiting the Schlachtensee. We prodded a brother to come along, and then rode a train out more and more into the southwestern edge of Berlin.
At the lake, we padded along the trail, amongst the white-flowering jasmine bushes and the joggers and the cyclists, before we found a nook at the earthy banks.
There we hung up our towels and clothing. And we trod out into the water, passed a beach ball to and fro until we were happy enough with the water temperature to be submerged up to the neck, and practiced beginners' breast strokes and doggy-paddling and underwater handstands. Ducklings above the water surface and fish (not much longer than a sardine) beneath the water surface frolicked nearby. Far away a white dead tree trunk leaned against the masses of evergreen and deciduous trees, above lighter contingents of reeds at the water's edge.
It was grey weather. The water felt cold at first, too, in the absence of direct sunshine. But despite what felt like a threat of thunder, lightning, or torrents of rain, the conditions were mild even long after a cool breeze arose and we decided to take the train home.
***
Aside from being in the mood to venture outside, I was in the frame of mind to cook, specifically 'Italian' food. I prepared two salads: one a fennel and radish salad with a lemon juice and olive oil vinaigrette after Jamie Oliver, the other, an inaccurate caprese salad of lamb's lettuce, mozzarella and tomato with a darker vinaigrette. We ate these with leftover baked things from breakfast. Then I made white Beelitz asparagus, topped with melted butter and salt and pepper; that, I admit, is not Italian at all. Lastly, I mixed mascarpone together with vanilla sugar and orange peel to eat with the blueberries, raspberries and strawberries that we had.
It was the first time I've knowingly eaten mascarpone, which I did not much like until I had added a lot of the orange peel. It has made me less enthusiastic about making a traditional tirami su, which I've thought in any case might be tastier although less noble if it had a semolina pudding lightened with vanilla custard in it instead of mascarpone or whipped cream. But, to be frank, I've bored my family horribly with my longing for a traditional tirami su for at least two decades, so I should take the plunge, try it and 'get it out of my system' soon.
I also bought white wine (from Italy, a soave) and cooled it in one side of the sink. Perhaps that was pretentious; if it was, I was horribly punished for it when family members (who shall go unnamed) put a used bowl and two dirty spoons in the basin, and mascarpone scum bobbed merrily alongside. I gave up, retrieved the bottle from the sink and put it back in the refrigerator. And we drank it with take-out pizza and sorbet in the late evening, and although I've found it both useless and expensive to even consider becoming the least bit precious about wines, I think it tasted rather good with the lemon sorbet.
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