As soon as my mum gets over the border to Germany, she hot foots to the nearest supermarkets to look for food that reminds her of home.. maltz bier, German rye bread, teewurst, salamis, noodles, lakaritza, even german butter, peffer kuchen and the small sachets of vanilla sugar and baking powder from Dr Oetker.
Then, if its in the weeks before Christmas, she’s searching the christmas markets for puffer cakes on street corners, these days called reibe kuchen with apfel sauce, warm and filling in the cold winter air.
My own memories being little and visiting in Berlin are my Omi getting up while we were all asleep to fetch schrippen – still warm from the baker shop.
Her showing us round the attic at the very top of her building where they dried their clothes which went round all four corners of the building with her little dachsund Purzel, very exciting if you were a small person and her favorite expression – “Ich bin ein Berliner” with a mischieveous twinkle. My grandfather came from the Ukraine and his first wife (my grandmother) probably from Finland.