When my electronic informational tour took me into the heart of Freiburg’s morning market, I was instructed (by said same informational tour) to buy myself a rote – a tangy, red sausage beloved by the locals. And from the moment that first bite passed my lips, I’ve had a passion – nay, obsession – with German sausage. Because, dear god, much like the cracked pepper steak at Denver’s Bistro Vendome, if I had to choose between a man and the red rote, I’m sorry boys, I’d pick the rote.
The sexy red rote in question.
Of course, after my first passionate encounter with German sausage, I had to have more. (Once you go German, apparently, you never go back.)
The next chance I got, I headed back to the morning market and bought myself a Currywurst.
Strong, ketchup-y currywurst.
Currywurst is a slightly milder sausage made from pork and doused in a kind of curry-ketchup. I have no idea if this is what the vendor intended when she handed me a bread roll, but in my personal opinion, the currywurst is best devoured as a sandwich. A tasty, tasty sandwich that might make you sneeze due to spice overload.
A couple days later, I was back again. This time it was the weekend and the market was packed with locals, mostly congregating around one particular sausage seller (pro tip: buy from the same vendor the locals do). That’s the day I bought two sausages. (I know. Now I’m just being greedy.) The first: a hearty Rhine Rinderwurst (which was, unfortunately, purchased before I saw where the locals were congregating).
Rhine Rinderwurst is the first German sausage that tasted familiar to me: a little like a hot dog with a majorly chewy outside and a slightly richer flavor. I’ll confess that my love for German sausages started to wane a little, as I have little love for the American hot dog. But that was before I tried my second sausage of the day: the smoky, serious Bockwurst.
Stuffed with paprika, pepper, and, of course, salt, this Bockwurst tasted smoky and strong, rekindling my passion for sausages from bite one (though, still, the rote is my first love).
Whew. That was a lot of sausage. [Insert innuendo here.] And there’s plenty more where that came from, according to Wikipedia. So, what are you waiting for? Get yourself to the Freiburg market. And if you only make passionate devouring love to one German sausage, make sure it’s the red rote. Tell it I sent you.
[Also, apparently, if you Google rote sausage to make sure you’re actually spelling rote correctly, the first result is for (wait for it)…sausage rugs! Oh, interwebs, how I love you.]