All these Helaus and Alaafs have been really silent today in Berlin. Berliners are haters and hating carnival is one of their specialities. On November 11th at 11.11 am half of Germany totally freaks out – year after year. Berliners couldn’t care less. I was sipping coffee behind my flatscreen today and looked at the watch at 11.15 am. Ooops, passé. Whatever, nobody in the office was interested anyway.
I grew up with celebrating Fasching, as we call it down South. Karneval is only the neologism from the industrial West. Arguing which word is the right one is a yearly repeat. Germans will never ever get tired of discussing regional differences in language.
Same for this jelly donut, a must-eat for carnival. I’m pretty sure we have a good dozen words for it. I know after all three of them. In Thuringia we used to say Krapfen. Filled with delicous selfmade jam, my grandma baked them every year. Pretty funny is the fact, that Berliners call it Pfannkuchen, whereas some other parts of Germany, including the West, say Berliner. Yes, I know, a bit confusing. Let’s agree on Krapfen, makes it easier.
In thoughts of grandma and to honor my carnival past (I was a Funkenmariechen once – now it’s public), I wanted to buy a Krapfen after work. Secretly. And then I spotted this funny pastry. A Krapfen that looks like a Bavarian pretzel. Berlin makes it possible.
It was a tasty start for my weekend but it’s a shame, that they forgot the jam. This couldn’t happen to Grandmommy.