Germany's Besenwirtschaft

I'm not sure what's stranger; the fact I'm sitting here typing with a caviar mask plastered all over my face or the fact I was sitting in a random strangers home last night, in the middle of wine county, participating in an age old tradition (since 812 to be exact)... the Besenwirtschaft. If you've never knocked on your neighbors door and invited yourself in for a good night’s meal full of Blutwurst (blood sausage...yes real blood squirting out from all sides) or Leberwurst with sauerkraut than you're missing out on something special and a little strange.

Traditionally, during Deutschland's fall harvest season, farmers hang a broomstick outside their door welcoming and beckoning driver's-by to enjoy mass amounts of professionally and/or personally organized feasts for all to take pleasure in. The menu usually consists of farmer's fresh vegetables, fresh sausage (as in Wanda the cow was just alive yesterday fresh), Neuer Wein or 'Must' to allow the fresh sausage to pass nicely through (wink! wink!) and Maultaschen for the curious and blood thirsty strangers to sink their teeth into. We chose the latter of course (because I wanted/needed to capture the true essence of a real Besenwirtschaft) and decided to sit in a complete strangers living room surrounded by appetizing whiffs of freshly planted manure and eBay addicted cow motifs. I must say, however, aside from the aching wine headache of yesterday, I enjoyed myself immensely. As a matter of fact, I cannot remember a time I was more worried about the kids trying to milk the dog than knock something over.

My husband, always nervous to take me anywhere because he knows I'll ask a thousand and one questions told me to go easy on the Bavarians and eat more than talk. HA...I started with the typical how long have you been farming questions continued with the 'wow, that's an interesting cow piece on your mantel' question and ended with the inevitable 'I should become a vegetarian' sausage platter sitting in front of me questions- I had to, I could see next year's 'harvest' staring at me from the window. But, regardless of the overly excited inquisitory nature of the American sitting across from the polite farmers (who quietly giggled) as I quite notably showed disgust when the Heikster dug his fork into the blood sausage- only a 'true Bavarian' could immerse in this tradition so proudly, we enjoyed one another's company greatly and had a really good time. Did I understand a word they said? No silly, they're Bavarians, but they provided a comfortable setting for my family to enjoy a long standing German tradition with proper farmers in a proper setting...their living room.

Will I ever get the explanation of butchering techniques or my daughter squeezing imaginary air nipples (thanks farmer Horst) out of my head? Probably not, but aside from the complimentary cow opener given to me before our tearful (from the manure) departure I took one look around and truly thought to myself, 'wow, I experienced something so out of the ordinary and so interesting that I must do this again,'.......but maybe after I let the Neuer Wein and fresh zwiebeln kuchen (onion cake) from today settle.