啤酒加香腸

趙青奇

啤酒和香腸無(wú)疑是德國(guó)最具代表性的美食。每一個(gè)踏上德國(guó)土地的人，都難以拒絕一杯純正德國(guó)啤酒的誘惑，也難以對(duì)一根風(fēng)味獨(dú)特的香腸說(shuō)“不”。它們沿襲了德意志民族古老的傳統(tǒng)，也訴說(shuō)著德國(guó)各地不同的歷史和風(fēng)俗。

The British Museum has in its collection drinking vessels1） from all around the world， but the German collection is striking for its quantity of glasses， mugs， tankards2） and other vessels—primarily made for the drinking of beer. Mostly from the 16th and 17th centuries， theyre made of all sorts of different materials， and they come from everywhere in the German-speaking world.

Tall glasses from Switzerland， stoneware3） tankards from Cologne， covered beakers4） from Austria， and silver-gilt5） mugs from Hamburg. Looking at this array， it is clear that Germans everywhere not only enjoy beer， but celebrate it in style6）.

And they seem to have been doing it for at least 2，000 years. In fact it is almost the first thing that any foreigner wrote about them.

Around 100 AD the Roman historian Tacitus7）， in his Germania， talks of the fair-haired， blue-eyed tribes which had given the legions8） such trouble along the Rhine9）， of the more distant ones who gathered amber on the Baltic10）， and of what they all had in common： “A liquor for drinking is made of barley11） or other grain， and fermented into a certain resemblance to wine. To pass an entire day and night in drinking disgraces no one.”

Later archaeology confirmed Tacituss observation of heavy， happy drinking among the German tribes. This is in part why， when Germany later needed to forge a new sense of identity， beer in the 19th century became a touchstone of being German.

Regional beers are what have defined German towns， cities and localities for centuries. And that sense of strong local identity is strikingly apparent on the beer tankards in the British Museum. On one after another， they display the arms of the different cities or the different princes. These drinking cups， made by master craftsmen out of precious materials， are clearly intended as statements of civic pride.

They also have a very significant function to perform. Legal contracts， trade deals， oaths of allegiance12） were often concluded by Zutrinken， a pledge of good faith—drunk usually in beer—not unlike a handshake that seals the deal. Out of grand ceremonial tankards like these， the different parties to the agreement would drink in turn， in a public， ceremonial act of assent. Given the size of some of the tankards—in some cases， several litres—it seems that Tacitus was not exaggerating when he described the German fondness for drinking.

To go with the beer， there is the other great emblem of Germanys national diet—wurst， the sausage. Wurst， like beer， defines Germanys cities and regions. Every region has its wurst and its claimed that there are 1，200 of them—thats more than three times as many as the French have cheeses.

In Britain our national dishes are traditionally roast beef， and fish and chips， but how many of us know how， when， where they originated？ How many of us care？ It is quite different in Germany： Beer and sausage embody centuries of national， regional and local history； they are living assertions of local diversity and regional trading links—the gastronomic13） equivalents of the flourishing regional dialects. They have a special place in the regional and local memory—and indeed in the national psyche.

Food correspondent Peter Peter describes sausage as “history on the plate.”

“Traditionally， manufacturing sausages was a very complicated feat14） of craftsmanship—you needed a lot of experience to mince the meat， to add exotic spices to preserve it，” he says.

“So it was the pride and privilege of German free towns， and still nowadays， a lot of sausages bear the names of historically relevant towns.”

Take the Nurembergers from Nuremberg， for example， small sausages about the size of a finger.

“They have added cinnamon15） and other spices. Because Nuremberg was the twin city of Venice， they had a privileged access to the oriental spices.”

The nuremberger sausage may not be familiar to non-Germans， but everyone knows the frankfurter16）. The basic， bland sausage in a bun is available on nearly every street corner across Germany， and across Europe and America as well： smoky， finely minced meat， almost to a paste， then plastered with mustard or tomato ketchup. But the frankfurter did not begin like that.

“The frankfurter， the famous frankfurter， they started as a coronation17） sausage， in Frankfurt for the Roman emperor，” explains Peter.

“They grilled an ox when the emperor was crowned and they filled it with these sausages and it was luxury because of the finest mincemeat. People abroad bought these things because the name of Frankfurt gave them the idea of luxury.”

So next time you tuck into a frankfurter， just think for a moment of the link between the humble hot dog and the imperial pageantry18） in Frankfurt Cathedral.

In the late 19th Century， food production became mechanised in Germany， as it did elsewhere， and wurst manufacture， traditionally a cottage industry19）， fell victim to the trend. The ability to finely mince meat was no longer a sign of quality and craftsmanship—instead it allowed anything， and frequently everything， to be included in the sausage， making it the food of the proletarian20） poor. And in Berlin， the fastest growing city in Europe at the time， it became notoriously difficult to be sure what was actually in a Berlin sausage. Hence the famous—though probably apocryphal21）—remark by Bismarck22）， that citizens do not really want to know how either laws or sausages are made.

Fifty years later， the poor quality of Berlin sausages was to have a very unexpected consequence. Museums are dedicated to material evidence， and， disappointingly， sausages leave few physical traces. Unlike beer， with its rich legacy of glasses and tankards， sausages have few dishes or utensils23） that are exclusively connected to them， and so museums struggle to tell the tale of the wurst， which is why it was with surprise and delight that， a few years ago， the international museum community discovered that we all had a new colleague， the Currywurst Museum in Berlin.

The museums existence speaks of the astounding success of a very late arrival on the wurst scene， not the heir to proud traditions of an Imperial Free City24）， but the result of food shortages in post-1945 Berlin.

“Currywurst was invented by the help of an unknown British soldier， who sold curry powder on the black market in Berlin in the late 40s. And for these very cheap sausages， they need some sensory contrast， so they decided to sprinkle curry powder on the sausage，” says Peter.

“It was a time when we frenetically25） discovered foreign dishes， so it was interesting having something Indian， something exotic. It became a symbol of a town that had never had excellent sausages.

“After 1989， Berlin became very popular； a lot of Germans discovered Berlin—so going to a currywurst stall became an experience of a lot of young people. So a dish that in a certain way is a white trash26） dish became a symbol of visiting Berlin， of young lifestyle.”

To the British observer， Germany is a nation of startling diversity. Regional specialities represent centuries of regional history—different beers and locally distinct sausages， all managed by national regulations that began 500 years ago27） and that say one thing： This is German.

大英博物館的藏品中有來(lái)自世界各地的飲酒器具，但其中德意志民族的藏品因其數(shù)量繁多的玻璃杯、帶柄大杯、大啤酒杯等器具而引人注目，而它們主要是用來(lái)飲啤酒的。這些器具大多誕生于16和17世紀(jì)，制作材料多種多樣，產(chǎn)地遍布德語(yǔ)世界。

瑞士的高腳玻璃杯、科隆的粗陶啤酒杯、奧地利的帶蓋大口杯、漢堡的鍍金帶柄杯……看著這些陳列，你就明白各地的德意志人不僅愛(ài)喝啤酒，還以華麗的方式來(lái)贊美它。

他們的這一習(xí)俗似乎已有至少2000年的歷史。事實(shí)上，凡是外國(guó)人寫(xiě)到德意志民族，他們首先寫(xiě)的幾乎總是這一點(diǎn)。

公元100年前后，羅馬歷史學(xué)家塔西佗曾在《日耳曼尼亞志》一書(shū)里寫(xiě)道，萊茵河畔那些金發(fā)碧眼的部落令羅馬軍團(tuán)頭痛不已，還有一些更為遙遠(yuǎn)的部落在波羅的海采集琥珀，這些部落有一個(gè)共同點(diǎn)：“他們飲用一種酒，這種酒以大麥或其他谷物為原料釀成，發(fā)酵后跟葡萄酒有幾分相似。就算晝夜痛飲此酒，也沒(méi)人覺(jué)得這樣有何不體面?！?/p>

塔西佗對(duì)日耳曼部落縱情飲酒的記載后經(jīng)考古學(xué)得到證實(shí)。這在一定程度上可以解釋為什么日后德國(guó)需要重塑民族認(rèn)同感時(shí)，啤酒在19世紀(jì)成為德國(guó)人身份的檢驗(yàn)標(biāo)準(zhǔn)。

幾百年來(lái)，地方啤酒一直充當(dāng)著德國(guó)城鎮(zhèn)、城市和地區(qū)的名片，而大英博物館收藏的啤酒杯鮮明地體現(xiàn)了這種強(qiáng)烈的地方認(rèn)同感。一件又一件的啤酒器具呈現(xiàn)出不同城市或不同王公所用的徽章。這些出自能工巧匠之手、采用貴重材料打造的酒杯顯然意在彰顯民眾的自豪感。

這些酒杯還發(fā)揮著一個(gè)至關(guān)重要的作用。當(dāng)時(shí)的法律合同、貿(mào)易協(xié)議和效忠宣誓的收尾環(huán)節(jié)通常都要飲酒（德語(yǔ)為Zutrinken）——一般是喝啤酒——以此作為誠(chéng)實(shí)守信的一種承諾，相當(dāng)于握手達(dá)成協(xié)議。協(xié)議各方用這些為禮儀場(chǎng)合定制的華麗酒杯依次飲酒，通過(guò)一種公開(kāi)的禮儀行為來(lái)表示贊成。鑒于一些酒杯如此之大——有些容量可達(dá)數(shù)升——塔西佗對(duì)日耳曼人迷戀啤酒的描述似乎并非夸張之詞。

德國(guó)還有一樣與啤酒相伴的極具代表性的民族美食——香腸（德語(yǔ)為wurst）。像啤酒一樣，香腸也是德國(guó)城市和地區(qū)的名片。每個(gè)地區(qū)都有各自的香腸，種類據(jù)說(shuō)達(dá)1200種，是法國(guó)奶酪種類的三倍還要多。

烤牛肉和炸魚(yú)薯?xiàng)l是英國(guó)的傳統(tǒng)國(guó)民食物，可有多少英國(guó)人知道它們是何時(shí)、何地、如何誕生的？有多少人在意呢？德國(guó)的情況則迥然不同：啤酒和香腸體現(xiàn)著國(guó)家、區(qū)域和地方數(shù)百年的歷史，是地方多樣性和區(qū)域貿(mào)易往來(lái)的鮮活見(jiàn)證，是與繁榮不息的地區(qū)方言功能相當(dāng)?shù)拿朗?。它們?cè)谝粎^(qū)一地的記憶里——乃至在國(guó)民心中——占據(jù)著特殊的位置。

美食記者彼得·彼得稱香腸為“盤(pán)中的歷史”。

“傳統(tǒng)上，香腸制作是一項(xiàng)非常復(fù)雜的手藝絕活兒，剁肉和添加異域防腐香料都需要豐富的經(jīng)驗(yàn)?！彼f(shuō)。

“因此，香腸制作曾是德國(guó)自由城鎮(zhèn)的驕傲和殊榮。如今仍有很多香腸被冠以歷史上相關(guān)城鎮(zhèn)的名字?！?/p>

比如源自紐倫堡的紐倫堡香腸，這種香腸個(gè)頭較小，只有手指般大。

“紐倫堡香腸添加了肉桂等香料。由于紐倫堡和威尼斯是友好城市，那里的人們有幸可以使用東方的香料?！?/p>

對(duì)于紐倫堡香腸，德國(guó)以外的人可能并不熟悉，但法蘭克福香腸卻是無(wú)人不知。這種普通的淡味香腸裹在面包里，幾乎遍布德國(guó)以及歐美各國(guó)的每個(gè)街角：香腸里灌著煙熏味的剁成近乎糊狀的碎肉，然后抹上芥末或番茄醬食用。不過(guò)，法蘭克福香腸起初并不是這個(gè)樣子。

“法蘭克福香腸，著名的法蘭克福香腸，最初是羅馬皇帝在法蘭克福的加冕儀式上用的香腸?！北说媒忉屨f(shuō)。

“羅馬皇帝加冕時(shí)，人們烤了一頭牛，里面就填著這種香腸。那是一道珍品美味，因?yàn)檫x用的是最上等的碎肉。外國(guó)人購(gòu)買(mǎi)這種香腸就是因?yàn)榉ㄌm克福這個(gè)名字給了他們一種奢華的感覺(jué)?！?/p>

所以，下次你大口吃著法蘭克福香腸時(shí)，不妨稍花片刻時(shí)間思考一下這不起眼的熱狗與法蘭克福大教堂那場(chǎng)皇家盛典之間的淵源。

19世紀(jì)晚期，德國(guó)像其他地方一樣，開(kāi)始走上食品生產(chǎn)的機(jī)械化道路。傳統(tǒng)上作為家庭手工業(yè)的香腸制造受到這一趨勢(shì)的沖擊。精細(xì)剁肉的本領(lǐng)不再是質(zhì)量和手藝的標(biāo)志，香腸變得可以容納任何食材，而且常常是無(wú)所不包，這使它成為無(wú)產(chǎn)階級(jí)勞苦大眾的食物。在柏林這個(gè)當(dāng)時(shí)歐洲發(fā)展最快的城市，要弄清柏林香腸里到底填著什么成了一件盡人皆知的難事，因此才有俾斯麥的那句名言——雖然可能是杜撰的——他說(shuō)對(duì)于法律或香腸，人們其實(shí)并不想知道它們是怎么來(lái)的。

而在50年后，品質(zhì)差勁的柏林香腸將迎來(lái)一個(gè)十分出人意料的結(jié)果。博物館是為陳列實(shí)物證據(jù)而設(shè)的，遺憾的是，香腸留下的實(shí)物痕跡微乎其微。就啤酒而言，流傳下來(lái)的各種酒杯數(shù)量豐富；而香腸則不然，鮮有專用的碟碗器具與之相關(guān)聯(lián)，因此博物館在講述香腸歷史的時(shí)候難免捉襟見(jiàn)肘。正因?yàn)槿绱耍瑤啄昵爱?dāng)我們發(fā)現(xiàn)國(guó)際博物館界新添一員——柏林的咖喱香腸博物館時(shí)，我們感到既驚又喜。

這一博物館的存在證明了咖喱香腸作為香腸領(lǐng)域后起之秀的驚人成功。它不是某個(gè)帝國(guó)自由城市驕傲傳統(tǒng)的承襲者，而是二戰(zhàn)后柏林食品短缺的衍生物。

“咖喱香腸的發(fā)明得益于一位不知名的英國(guó)士兵。這位士兵在40年代后期曾在柏林的黑市販賣(mài)咖喱粉。那些價(jià)格很低的香腸需要一些東西來(lái)提味，于是人們決定往香腸上撒咖喱粉?！北说谜f(shuō)。

“那個(gè)年代，我們狂熱地發(fā)掘外國(guó)食物，因此這種帶有印度特色、異國(guó)情調(diào)的東西讓人們很感興趣?？о隳c就此成為柏林這個(gè)從未出過(guò)優(yōu)質(zhì)香腸的城市的標(biāo)志。

“1989年之后，柏林人氣大漲，很多德國(guó)人開(kāi)始了解柏林，很多年輕人開(kāi)始光顧咖喱香腸攤。如此一來(lái)，在某種程度上屬于勞苦大眾食物的咖喱香腸成為到訪柏林的一個(gè)標(biāo)志，成為年輕人生活方式的一種體現(xiàn)。”

在英國(guó)觀察人士看來(lái)，德國(guó)是一個(gè)多樣性出奇豐富的國(guó)家。地方特產(chǎn)代表著數(shù)百年的地方歷史——不同種類的啤酒和獨(dú)具地方風(fēng)味的香腸仍受制于500年前的國(guó)家規(guī)定，這些規(guī)定訴說(shuō)著一個(gè)意思：這就是德國(guó)。