Bachlkoch - Embach's secret festive speciality

Embach at Christmas: guarding the Bachlkoch recipe

Christmas in Embach is a simple and traditional occasion which still has a lot more to do with religion than parties, frenzied shopping and the giving and getting of expensive gifts.

Nothing highlights this contrast more than the menu plan because in this corner of the world, Christmas Eve, the most important day, is a fasting day. The 25^th, is a holiday, but more given to trying out new skis than collapsing in front of the TV after a gargantuan meal.

The morning of Christmas Eve is a normal day and many people will be at work. On their return home to Embach they will probably eat a Bachlkoch – because this is Bachltag (the day when once farmers sharpened all their knives and cutting implements).

The Bachlkoch recipe is hard to pin down because everyone has their own and no-one seems keen to give it away – even the internet is unhelpful. It consists of milk and flour whisked together over the heat with a pinch of salt and a little butter. Some people I have asked also add honey. Apparently everyone eats it and loves it – but only on Bachltag.

Later, once it is dark, most residents will gather in the village centre to hear hymns played by members of the brass band from four different balconies around the square. First one group plays, then the next and the next. Finally they wish us all a happy and peaceful Christmas. People shake hands with friends and neighbours, wish them a frohe Weihnachten and return home. Some will take with them a candle lit from one whose flame has been brought from Jerusalem.

This is the formal start of Christmas but instead of a feast, many families in Embach will eat a soup, often pea soup, with a frankfurter cut up in it. Later, presents, brought by the Christchild (Santa doesn’t come this way) will be opened and songs sung around the Christmas tree.

Many old traditions are maintained – our neighbouring farmer and the family is probably not alone in processing with smoking frankincense around their stall where the cattle, horses, ducks, chickens and sheep spend the winter.

It isn’t just the snow that makes this simple kind of Christmas celebration more attractive than the excesses of Christmas elsewhere. Eating Bachlkoch, made from a recipe handed down through generations, seems more appropriate than the belch from an overloaded stomach.

There's more to this concert than music

The highlight of the year for the Lend village band (Lend is Embach’s „sister village“ 400m below us) is the Cäcilia concert to celebrate music’s patron saint’s day. 

Resplendent in their red uniforms with black capes, reflecting Lend’s industrial heritage, they played music ranging from challenging classical numbers to swing and old favourites to a packed house. The high standard is a credit to the music director.

A report on the concert in the Embach/Lend village magazine, written by the band’s chairman, is headed “Music with much Love and Swing, many Honours and Thank Yous” which is a pretty accurate summary.

The music was great – but the talking must have taken up an equal amount of time. After the first musical piece all the VIPs had to be welcomed: one by one they stood and were applauded. VIP means everyone in the village who is not an ordinary pleb, (even assistants to VIPs get a mention) plus music directors from all the surrounding villages, mayors and other nobs from the world of music. This took quite some time and enough clapping to make our hands tingle.

Back to the music: Before long it was time to award honours to long-standing band members, juniors who have reached a certain standard and others who have had notable successes. By the time these and other award winners each had lined up with the mayor and other dignitaries for photographs, the crowd was getting restless.




Resplendent in their uniforms - members of the Orts- und Werks Musikkapelle Lend together with VIPs - the Mayor and union boss lining up for photographs

 

Added to all this, Austrian tradition says concerts must have a compére who not only has to say what’s coming up, but has  to spice it up with a potted biog of the composer and jokes and poems. However good these may be, and in Lend they are good but delivered in dialect incomprehensible to outsiders, it means more talk, less music.

It is part of life here; one of those things the outsider must observe and accept as it is. I go every year; I know what to expect and enjoy it for what it is – not just a concert, but an annual event with musical accompaniment - something Austrian. It’s an example of why moving to a new country reawakens all your senses – things are different. It’s why I am glad live here.

It is especially pleasing to see so many youngsters playing in the band and getting rewarded for their efforts, this year: François Choukri looking like a born percussionist, particularly with the cymbals, Michael Moser on the tenor horn which is almost larger than him and trumpeter Jenny Viehauser.

Monsters on the rampage

For a teenage girl wishing on a dark winter’s night to be grabbed by a huge hairy monster in a hideous mask, possibly to receive a whack round the legs with a bunch of twigs sounds unlikely. But this, I’m told, is exactly what they wanted last Saturday evening.

For the young lads in the village, in the face of these creatures, it is important to show nonchalance, to be seen not to be afraid – after all, they could soon turn into a Krampus themselves.

Last weekend was the traditional Krampuss Rummel in Embach where these great hairy creatures rampage through the village. The village centre is crowded, glühwein being downed, flares, fireworks and loud music accompany the deafening cacophony of their arrival and the Krampusse begin their “punishment” of those who take their fancy.

They are the bad spirits accompanying St Nicholas who is visiting the houses of children to reward those who have been good with sweets and nuts, and ticking off those who have not. While this good man, with his tall hat, white gloves and golden book is viewed with awe by the children, his “bad” attendants, the Krampusse are the subject of fear and terror.

It’s not surprising. Huge, hairy and loud, Krampusse leap around the village carrying a switch of twigs which is used to punish the unwary with a whack around the legs. The goodness of St Nicholas’ alone is said to outdo the ten or so Krampusse who accompany him.

To be a Krampus you must own the kit which here in Embach includes a huge hideous mask, hand carved from wood with a number of horns, sometimes curled and sometimes long and twisted. This are often passed through generations as new ones cost a small fortune. Hairy animal skins cover the body and on their backs are large metal globes filled with nuts and bolts to make a fearful noise when shaken.

It’s a hard task being a Krampus, leaping around, grabbing and whacking people, continuously jumping up and down to make the din that Krampusses make to confuse their prey. Much beer has to be downed, and probably not a few glasses of schnapps before the night is out. It’ll go on for a few nights to come before they return to their lair and St Nicholas puts his book aside and the children await the arrival of Christmas.

The Oncethmus and the Clappers

Some years ago there was a donkey called Alfredo living in Embach. Day and night his oncethmus* was so loud, so harsh and so frequent that not only tourists were complaining about losing sleep, but residents who were used to Alfredo, were also fed up. Finally Alfredo was dragged into a truck and left us for good – though some did claim he returned as a Mortadella and was to be found in the meat counter in the shop.

* oncethmus: the loud and harsh braying of donkeys

Now Embach has three white donkeys with ice-blue eyes. Their oncethmus is audible but not so disturbing and can be heard day and night.

The other noise which can be heard at all hours is the church clock. Chiming the quarters and marking the hours – there are 100 strikes each day by 6am at which point the big bell comes into action and its clapper responds with a further 100 resounding bongs. This is the village alarm clock, it can be heard all over Embach, and no-one seems to mind as it is the traditional time to get up.

This big bell also rings at midday – originally to bring the farmers in for lunch, at 7pm and on Fridays at 3pm when the week’s work is done and most people settle in at home for the weekend. Then, of course it ensures we know when there is a mass, and it also rings for weddings and funerals. It is a part of village life, marking the passing hours in a
time-honoured way.

So what is the link between the oncethmus and the clappers? I am not sure there is one but it does very often seem that the donkey responds to the ringing of the church clock. Day and night he brays a couple of minutes after the clock chimes the quarters, which for some time now has been marking time two minutes ahead of Central European Time – so maybe the donkey has a better timepiece.

It isn’t always the case and occasionally the oncethmus can be heard just before the chimes – given the erratic performance of the church clock, the donkeys could be right. Fortunately the current braying does not seem quite as hard and harsh as Alfredo’s lonely cry and it seems unlikely that we will be getting another familiar-looking Mortadella in the shop in the near future.

Going off with a bang

Dynamiting the rock face which threatened traffic onthe road below

It seems as if everyone is holding their breath. We’ve enjoyed three months of cloudless skies broken only by two short bursts of snow. Now on the north-facing slopes where the sun no longer reaches, there is deep frost, the rime crunching underfoot, the crystals standing tall and packed together like a micro-Manhattan.

Now, though we are ready for the snow, there is no sign of its arrival: creeping up in the night, laying a sound-deadening blanket over the land or blasting down from the mountain and whipping with the wind into corners and crevices. The first Advent Sunday is just about here – the atmosphere is not the same without the snow when we hunker down cosily with candles and glühwein, coffee and biscuits.

One event went off with a bang this week. The Bogensperger Palfen, a rock face which showered tons of rock across the road between Lend and Embach in August and had not been fully cleared, was dynamited to send a further 1000m³ of shale down into the valley. Care had to be taken not to blast it on to the railway or into the river. Now this has to be cleared before we can drive directly to our sister village down below. The event was seen on TV and watched by many residents.

(For why this is called the Bogensperger Palfen - see Bogenspergers in the News - this blog and for what happens to the spoil, see Moving Mountains)

Meanwhile, the only other road out of Embach has suffered a rock slide which also means a long diversion. It is the same whichever direction we take from here at the moment.

Something else went off with a bang: Sunday was the annual Advent Market organised by the Katolische Frauenschaft (something like the Women’s Institute) with hand-made Christmas decorations, seasonal foods and an amazing number of huge creamy cakes for immediate consumption. A great deal of time, effort and creativity go into putting on such a display and it is enjoyed by whole families who crowd into the Gasthof where it is held .  To mark the 20^th of these markets, there was a free mug of glühwein for all visitors.



TV news reported on the dynamiting of the rock hanging over the road between Embach and Lend



Bean missin' you

Austria has a great tradition of coffee houses. Here among the clatter of china, the chatter of coffee lovers, Verlängertern, Großen Braunen, Espressos, Melange and more are served. Each cup and saucer placed on a small oval tray with a paper doily, sugar, cream, a glass of water and usually a small chocolate or a biscuit.

Then there are the cakes: big, sweet, creamy, gaudy, myocardially infarctful. Walk up to the glass counter and make your choice – it will be brought to the table with your coffee.

There is no rush. Newspapers are provided so that you can linger and browse, gather and gossip. A coffee can last an hour if you wish.

Each coffee house has its own style and many are steeped in tradition with panelled walls, tiny tables and waiting staff with huge wallets containing the takings in their trouser back pockets. Some coffee houses are listed monuments.

However, a coffee house needs more than this. It needs good coffee. There’s no beating the deep, ingrained, sensual aroma of well-ground, properly-brewed coffee, served, sipped and relished over many years.

Sadly, more and more coffee houses are serving half-a-cup of warm brown liquid that drips from an electronic machine at the press of a button – and charging far too much for it. At a time when so many varieties of beans are available from exotic corners of the world, why is there never a choice of coffee bean?

The days of skilled baristas grinding good quality beans, measuring the coffee into the basket, tamping with just right pressure and working the taps and knobs of a steamer machine as big as a church organ are fading fast. In Salzburg they are few and far between.

The coffee house is under threat – for how long will people pay over the odds for something which no longer lives up to the tradition to which it gave birth? Classy presentation without outstanding content is a hollow offering. Indulging in the atmosphere without the sustaining aromas and taste sensations of excellent coffees is an experience no more fulfilling a beautiful picture frame without the masterpiece it is intended to display.

Some Salzburg coffee houses where real coffee is made:

Primadonna – Platzl

220 Grad - Chiemseegasse

Laughs in translation

„Radio Salzburg wünscht Gute Fahrt“.You can hear it day in day out on the radio and see it at petrol stations…and for many an English-speaking visitor it produces a chuckle. But although this little language joke soon wears thin, there are plenty of others to raise a smile.

Gráinne, visiting from Ireland loved this shop name which is so nearly descriptive of the quality of clothing to be found inside.



No flash in the pan!



Sophie, An Australian visitor roared: “Spark Arse” when she saw our bank, the Sparkasse (Spar = save and Kasse = bank and together pronounced Spar-kasser). We’d never thought of that one and can’t take this sober institution quite so seriously any more.

Some place names attract visitors like the ones on this map. The places are disappointing – no t-shirts or postcards, it seems all the excitement takes place behind closed doors.

Then there is Schitter the nearby butcher and Dick the local electrician whose van has DICK in huge letters on the back. I don’t think his name is Richard.

However, in Gasteinertal, the next valley, the local blacksmith and electrician are classics:

What fun it would it be to drive one of these vans around London?

Calendrical life

Austrians are an orderly folk. Many things are done according to the calendar rather than the prevailing weather conditions:

Sunday, a gorgeous, crisp autumn morning, a cloudless blue sky, the sun transforming the larches into tongues of flame amid the darker pines, and backlighting the beeches into hoardes of golden coins.

Where were the cyclists? At home. Bikes go down into the cellar on the last Saturday of October (if not before) regardless of the weather. So the bike trail along the Salzach River and through the dramatic Pass Lueg, a busy two-wheel highway in summer, was mine and mine to enjoy alone. www.tauernradweg.com

At the same time, traffic jams were being reported because of skiers flocking to the glaciers for the first day of the official ski season. Skis come out of the cellars at the end of October even if it is more like bathing weather .

Other things are similarly regulated. Last week the long poles were installed along the steeply winding roadside to this mountain village, to show the snow plough the edge of the road. In gardens, bushes were tied up to save branches breaking under the winter snows. This weekend summer tyres were replaced with the heavy winter treads. Snow shovelling equipment is placed at the ready and water butts are emptied.

There is a good reason for these calendrical activities – but the weather forecasters are predicting temperatures of up to 20°C for the rest of this week, so, because of this orderliness,  it looks as if there will be opportunities for more solitary bike rides in early November.

Cycling culture

Probably the best bike trails in the world – to use an old beer advertising slogan for this little country which not only provides dedicated asphalted trails through spectacular scenery, but adds artworks to entertain you along the way.  

Today I rode through the Salzach valley – the mountain tops dusted with a light sugar coating, the sky a cloudless blue, with the glorious tintinnabulation of cowbells tinkling, clanging and klonking as the curious cattle raised their heads from chomping the remaining grass, to watch me pass.



naked man - but a bit of a cock up?



On a bend where once was a tree, stood a naked man doing a handstand. The wooden figure was hewn from the remaining tree trunk. Further back, where a new bridge had been built three metal relief figures stood in classic dance poses. Along this part of the trail is also a huge wooden hammock slung between trees and a wooden figure suspended on his back by wires – all part of the cultural as well as physical experience.

Elsewhere schools and artists have together created a trail of artworks together with great stories to explain what happened, for example, when the Chugger-Luggers landed their space ship on this bike trail instead of in Africa.

Could there be a link between the quality of these safe and attractive bike routes.the popularity of cycling for everyone from tiny children to people in their eighties, and the high standing of Austria in the Happy Planet Index, and the generally good health of the nation as a whole?   

The Chugga Luggers landed in the wrong place?

Moving Mountains

The rockface crashed across the road

Nowhere else have I seen so many baggers as here in Austria – a bagger is a small, wheeled or tracked excavator with a backhoe or bucket. Embach with about 500 residents produces enough activity to keep its own earthmoving business busy and Ernst Röck and his bagger are always active somewhere around.

It appears that if someone wants the mountains re-arranged, then Ernst and his bagger can do it.

The latest challenge has been the 40m long rock slide that has been blocking the road between Embach and sister village Lend for more than a month. (see September’s Bogensperger blog) It was decided that the job had to be tackled from the top, rather than just shift what has fallen down. Effectively a small mountain has to be shifted…but where?

Lend's Heimo Gruber's bagger removing the rockslide - starting from the top - the rockface fell to the road and railway below

A farmer, further up the hill, with a steeply sloping field seized the opportunity to have the mountain moved to where it will substantially level this part of his plot. So, daily, a convoy of trucks grind their way from the valley to half-way up the road to Embach, dump their loads and trundle down again while the local bagger men push the rubble about and once again re-arrange the landscape.


Rearranging the landscape - the mountain which fell down, is now relocated
300m higher than at its original  site



Blooming overwhelming!

The festoons of plants which hang from balconies and window boxes in so many of the houses in this part of Austria are past their best. During the late summer, opulent waves of gaudy colours pour downward from some homes, while others have lines of flowers in a single colour like a regiment of guards.



 

In the spring the garden centres are busy with shoppers seeking their favoured colours and plants and a sign that the frosty nights are past is the appearance of nascent growth, to be nurtured, tweaked and watered in a regular evening ritual.

Embach's Krämerwirt's display still looks good at the beginning og October

Some houses are so renowned for their overwhelming blooms that they attract coach loads of tourists to come, gasp, photograph and to move on.

Now the season is coming to an end and once again the compost heaps with be awash with the fading colours of summer. Houses will look bare, for just a few months before the ritual begins again and once more, Austria puts on its traditional summer face.

Signs of the season

The weather caught us all on the hop this week. On Saturday we were sunning ourselves in the garden by Monday the garden was under 20cm of snow. Three days later it was sunbathing again. 

Even by our standards this was an earlier burst of winter than usual. Flowers, bushes and trees collapsed under the weight of the heavy, wet snow unless shaken free. Before long the snow ploughs were out and it was possible to get about even with summer tyres.

A common sight at this time of year is tractors with trailers leading a long column of crawling traffic. This is the modern version of the Alm Abtrieb, the bringing of cattle from the high alpine summer pastures back to the valleys before they go into the stalls for the winter. Once this was done on foot, the cattle dressed in crowns of wild flowers and carrying enormous bells but now that is more commonly done for the tourists and today most cattle ride down with a trail of frustrated drivers behind them. Here in Embach the sound of cowbells can be heard day and night.

Beside the roads, ladders lean at crazy angles against trees while the precious rowan berries are harvested. The poisonous  red berries make the best Vogelbeer Schnapps and there will be much distilling going on in the farms following this year’s bumper crop.

Up here, we often catch the early morning sun while beneath us, in the valleys, they awake under a thick blanket of cloud. Early morning views of the mists below and the sun beaming between the mountains are especially lovely.

Above:The view towards the Tennengebirge from Embach Urbar

Below: Early morning here on Embach's "Sonnseite"

It's not (just) about the distance

In this part of the world a hike or a bike ride is not only measured by how far one has travelled, but also by the “Höhenmeter” – the vertical height climbed.

Embach is just 6km from its bigger sister village, Lend, but it also lies 400m higher. A 6km bike ride on the flat is within most people’s capabilities, but to pedal from Lend to Embach is a serious challenge as half the distance is a 12 per cent climb, with hairpin bends and significant drops to one side,

Yesterday’s bike ride took us past the Dachstein mountain range. The 77km circuit began with a long and steady climb from 710m to 1200m – but after that there were ups and downs for the rest of the way. In total we climbed 900 Höhenmeter.

How do Austrians know how many Höhenmeter they have climbed? Well, for a start the legs give some idea – the knackerdness factor. But today many active people have watches or bike computers which not only tell the altitude, but calculate the total climbed in a certain period too. They are surprisingly accurate – I can tell from my Suunto if I am upstairs or downstairs.

We have ridden along the road past the Dachstein a good many times but I can never resist taking photos of its huge, grey cragginess rearing out of the dark woods, and to wonder that in the past few years I have been able to climb to three of its summits – something I had never imagined I’d be doing before coming to Austria.

Bogenspergers back in the news

Bogensperger, Irmgard’s family/maiden name is back in the local news. Her father grew up in a house squeezed on to a small plot between the river and a bend in the road. Though the house has long since disappeared, the bend continues to be known as the Bogensperger Kurve. Immediately on the opposite side of the road the mountain rears almost vertically upward - the Bogensperger Palfern (Palfern meaning a bare rock wall).

Some days ago a great chunk of this wall, 40m wide, collapsed across the road and into the river. This road is in frequent use for local traffic and is part of the popular

Tauern Radweg, a long distance cycle route

used by thousands of cycle tourists each summer. Fortunately the road was clear at the time and no-one is under the huge mound of rock.

It will take some time to clear as the whole mountainside has be secured. Meanwhile cyclists have to climb the hill along the main through route (special signs warning drivers about the cyclists have been erected) and local traffic is also diverted.

It is a stark reminder that the landscape around us cannot be taken for granted. It is not only when climbing in the mountains that accidents can occur but while going about our daily lives.

Ups and downs

A two-day trip to the Osttirol with the Alpenverein Seniors was the usual energetic outing. After climbing to the "hut" - the Sajathütte...

...we then donned the climbing gear to tackle the Rote Säule - the rock you can see behind the hut above.

Next morning we climbed the 3164m Kreuzspitze...

...before walking down through meadows full of flowers to the valley. We climbed 2000 altitude metres and enjoyed great company and marvellous weather. I saw my first Edelweiß.

The early-morning views from the hut were spectacular.

just one person was missing...Irmgard. She would have loved it.

Wild romantisch

"Wild romantisch" perfectly describes yesterday's wild, beautiful ride along the Salza lake. Huge cliffs rise steeply  up from the dark waters and we rode along the track on a narrow ledge. The track is officially closed but we jumped over the barrier and took our chance with falling rocks and trees.

The circular ride circumnavigfates the Großer Grimming - a huge bare rock mountain - the first we climbed after our arrival in Austria - when we totally miscalculated the effort, food and water required to reach the top. We hold it in particular reverence