啤酒加香肠

赵青奇

啤酒和香肠无疑是德国最具代表性的美食。每一个踏上德国土地的人，都难以拒绝一杯纯正德国啤酒的诱惑，也难以对一根风味独特的香肠说“不”。它们沿袭了德意志民族古老的传统，也诉说着德国各地不同的历史和风俗。

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.

大英博物馆的藏品中有来自世界各地的饮酒器具，但其中德意志民族的藏品因其数量繁多的玻璃杯、带柄大杯、大啤酒杯等器具而引人注目，而它们主要是用来饮啤酒的。这些器具大多诞生于16和17世纪，制作材料多种多样，产地遍布德语世界。

瑞士的高脚玻璃杯、科隆的粗陶啤酒杯、奥地利的带盖大口杯、汉堡的镀金带柄杯……看着这些陈列，你就明白各地的德意志人不仅爱喝啤酒，还以华丽的方式来赞美它。

他们的这一习俗似乎已有至少2000年的历史。事实上，凡是外国人写到德意志民族，他们首先写的几乎总是这一点。

公元100年前后，罗马历史学家塔西佗曾在《日耳曼尼亚志》一书里写道，莱茵河畔那些金发碧眼的部落令罗马军团头痛不已，还有一些更为遥远的部落在波罗的海采集琥珀，这些部落有一个共同点：“他们饮用一种酒，这种酒以大麦或其他谷物为原料酿成，发酵后跟葡萄酒有几分相似。就算昼夜痛饮此酒，也没人觉得这样有何不体面。”

塔西佗对日耳曼部落纵情饮酒的记载后经考古学得到证实。这在一定程度上可以解释为什么日后德国需要重塑民族认同感时，啤酒在19世纪成为德国人身份的检验标准。

几百年来，地方啤酒一直充当着德国城镇、城市和地区的名片，而大英博物馆收藏的啤酒杯鲜明地体现了这种强烈的地方认同感。一件又一件的啤酒器具呈现出不同城市或不同王公所用的徽章。这些出自能工巧匠之手、采用贵重材料打造的酒杯显然意在彰显民众的自豪感。

这些酒杯还发挥着一个至关重要的作用。当时的法律合同、贸易协议和效忠宣誓的收尾环节通常都要饮酒（德语为Zutrinken）——一般是喝啤酒——以此作为诚实守信的一种承诺，相当于握手达成协议。协议各方用这些为礼仪场合定制的华丽酒杯依次饮酒，通过一种公开的礼仪行为来表示赞成。鉴于一些酒杯如此之大——有些容量可达数升——塔西佗对日耳曼人迷恋啤酒的描述似乎并非夸张之词。

德国还有一样与啤酒相伴的极具代表性的民族美食——香肠（德语为wurst）。像啤酒一样，香肠也是德国城市和地区的名片。每个地区都有各自的香肠，种类据说达1200种，是法国奶酪种类的三倍还要多。

烤牛肉和炸鱼薯条是英国的传统国民食物，可有多少英国人知道它们是何时、何地、如何诞生的？有多少人在意呢？德国的情况则迥然不同：啤酒和香肠体现着国家、区域和地方数百年的历史，是地方多样性和区域贸易往来的鲜活见证，是与繁荣不息的地区方言功能相当的美食。它们在一区一地的记忆里——乃至在国民心中——占据着特殊的位置。

美食记者彼得·彼得称香肠为“盘中的历史”。

“传统上，香肠制作是一项非常复杂的手艺绝活儿，剁肉和添加异域防腐香料都需要丰富的经验。”他说。

“因此，香肠制作曾是德国自由城镇的骄傲和殊荣。如今仍有很多香肠被冠以历史上相关城镇的名字。”

比如源自纽伦堡的纽伦堡香肠，这种香肠个头较小，只有手指般大。

“纽伦堡香肠添加了肉桂等香料。由于纽伦堡和威尼斯是友好城市，那里的人们有幸可以使用东方的香料。”

对于纽伦堡香肠，德国以外的人可能并不熟悉，但法兰克福香肠却是无人不知。这种普通的淡味香肠裹在面包里，几乎遍布德国以及欧美各国的每个街角：香肠里灌着烟熏味的剁成近乎糊状的碎肉，然后抹上芥末或番茄酱食用。不过，法兰克福香肠起初并不是这个样子。

“法兰克福香肠，著名的法兰克福香肠，最初是罗马皇帝在法兰克福的加冕仪式上用的香肠。”彼得解释说。

“罗马皇帝加冕时，人们烤了一头牛，里面就填着这种香肠。那是一道珍品美味，因为选用的是最上等的碎肉。外国人购买这种香肠就是因为法兰克福这个名字给了他们一种奢华的感觉。”

所以，下次你大口吃着法兰克福香肠时，不妨稍花片刻时间思考一下这不起眼的热狗与法兰克福大教堂那场皇家盛典之间的渊源。

19世纪晚期，德国像其他地方一样，开始走上食品生产的机械化道路。传统上作为家庭手工业的香肠制造受到这一趋势的冲击。精细剁肉的本领不再是质量和手艺的标志，香肠变得可以容纳任何食材，而且常常是无所不包，这使它成为无产阶级劳苦大众的食物。在柏林这个当时欧洲发展最快的城市，要弄清柏林香肠里到底填着什么成了一件尽人皆知的难事，因此才有俾斯麦的那句名言——虽然可能是杜撰的——他说对于法律或香肠，人们其实并不想知道它们是怎么来的。

而在50年后，品质差劲的柏林香肠将迎来一个十分出人意料的结果。博物馆是为陈列实物证据而设的，遗憾的是，香肠留下的实物痕迹微乎其微。就啤酒而言，流传下来的各种酒杯数量丰富；而香肠则不然，鲜有专用的碟碗器具与之相关联，因此博物馆在讲述香肠历史的时候难免捉襟见肘。正因为如此，几年前当我们发现国际博物馆界新添一员——柏林的咖喱香肠博物馆时，我们感到既惊又喜。

这一博物馆的存在证明了咖喱香肠作为香肠领域后起之秀的惊人成功。它不是某个帝国自由城市骄傲传统的承袭者，而是二战后柏林食品短缺的衍生物。

“咖喱香肠的发明得益于一位不知名的英国士兵。这位士兵在40年代后期曾在柏林的黑市贩卖咖喱粉。那些价格很低的香肠需要一些东西来提味，于是人们决定往香肠上撒咖喱粉。”彼得说。

“那个年代，我们狂热地发掘外国食物，因此这种带有印度特色、异国情调的东西让人们很感兴趣。咖喱香肠就此成为柏林这个从未出过优质香肠的城市的标志。

“1989年之后，柏林人气大涨，很多德国人开始了解柏林，很多年轻人开始光顾咖喱香肠摊。如此一来，在某种程度上属于劳苦大众食物的咖喱香肠成为到访柏林的一个标志，成为年轻人生活方式的一种体现。”

在英国观察人士看来，德国是一个多样性出奇丰富的国家。地方特产代表着数百年的地方历史——不同种类的啤酒和独具地方风味的香肠仍受制于500年前的国家规定，这些规定诉说着一个意思：这就是德国。