Well, if you're going to blow off your diet, it might as well be in Germany and France!

By CHRISTIE VILSACK
November 22, 2004
DES MOINES, IOWA

I haven’t eaten a French fry since July. I gave up mayonnaise, pasta, cut back on beer and wine and even bought a butter substitute. I purchased no-carb bread and ate lots of pistachio nuts and unsalted almonds for snacks. I lost enough weight to fit back into clothes I haven’t worn in a year. I’ve been feeling pretty good about my will power.

Then two weeks ago, we traveled to Germany to visit companies doing business in Iowa and then on to France to study their renowned preschool program as guests of the French-American Foundation.

In Germany I rediscovered my food heritage – sauerkraut, wholesome breads and beer. In France, I rediscovered cream and butter. In both places I met people proud of quality, whether it was the cook in a neighborhood bistro in Paris or the CEO of the egg noodle company in a small town Germany.

Not once in nine days did I eat fast food. Not once in nine days did I see a biggie size. From the squab and goose liver pate at the Hotel Crillon in Paris to the sausages at the Munich beer garden, our portions were just enough.

Food is a powerful uniter, a way to celebrate a sense of place, a way to express values and extend the hand of friendship where language is a barrier.

In a literal sense, food is what we do best in Iowa. The German companies who do business here depend on what we grow. We depend on them to make what we grow better – to turn it into food and pharmaceuticals.

ALB-Gold, an egg noodle producer in Trochtelfingen, Germany, is an example of the kind of company we’d like to bring to Iowa. CEO Klaus Friedler told us he was his father’s first employee in the family egg business. Now they buy eggs from farmers in the area, import wheat from the United States and create more than 70 kinds of egg noodles. They are the second largest employer in rural Baden-Wurtemberg south of Stuttgart.

Iowa produces more eggs than any other state, and since the wheat is grown in the Midwest, it makes sense to locate a noodle factory here in Iowa.

Klaus, his wife Irmgard and their son Oliver gave us a taste of their noodles in a five-course meal in the company dining room, upstairs from the up-scale market that offers visitors every kind of noodle, wines and specialty meats and cheeses. They also have room for small conferences and receptions.

Each course included noodles prepared differently. My favorite was the spatzle with melted cheese, bacon and roasted onions, but most unusual was the dessert – chocolate noodles served with vanilla ice cream and pineapple. Last summer, Klaus traveled across the United States on a Harley-Davidson, spending some time in the Midwest looking at possible locations for a factory.

In Ellwangen, we stayed at a small inn that served the local beer from a tap at the registration desk. Ellwangen once had many breweries, but today they are proud of the Rotochsen bier, which we tasted with local specialties like rabbit, venison, ostrich and hearty brown breads. Rettenmaier and Sohne GMbH have chosen to build a plant in Cedar Rapids that will purchase oat hulls from Quaker Oats, to produce a fiber used in foods like pasta, breads, nutrition bars and ice cream.

The small town of Eberbach is nestled into the hills south of Heidelberg, on the Necker River, which winds past castles and church spires, pine forests and hills dotted with sheep and cattle. There, the corporate headquarters of Gelita, overlooks the river. Dr. Herbert Gareis, has prepared for us the specialty of Eberbach, Victoria Cake, created in honor of the Queen when she visited. Now people order it from all over the world. Covered with a thin layer of gelatin, this white cake is filled with crème. It’s only 9 a.m. but it’s impossible to pass up such a delicacy.

Gelita employs 278 Iowans in Sioux City. They make gelatin products from beef and pigskins. The specialty of the Iowa Company is gummy bears. Dr. Gareis comes to Sioux City often, and lived there for a year with his wife and three children when the company was first opening in Iowa.

In Cologne, we marvel at one of the largest cathedrals in the world and taste the German wines. We travel down the Rhine River from Cologne, past acres of multi-colored vineyards stretching from the roads up hills.

BASF AG is one of the largest seed and ag chemical companies in the world. They have a research and development facility in Ames. At their plant in Ludwigshafen, I get a tour of the wine cellar, which covers half an acre and includes wines from around the world. The wine master tells me he tastes about 5,000 wines a year and chooses the very best for their cellar. As a gift, the CEO sends home with us an ice wine, a dessert wine made from grapes frozen on the vine.

When we went on to Paris, we were joined by Governor Brad Henry and First Lady Kim Henry of Oklahoma. We were invited to study the French preschool program, available to every three- and four-year-old in France. No sack lunch or hot lunch here. The city of Paris provides wholesome four-course meals including fresh fruits and vegetables purchased locally. It was surprising to watch four-year-olds scarf down fresh tomatoes with gusto.

Our study group took time out from visiting preschools to go to lunch at a bistro recommended by Inspector Raymond Ouzoulias, longtime educator and now administrator who helped us understand the French school system.

I watched the cook through the pass-through window from the kitchen. She managed single-handedly to feed a dozen of us as well as her other patrons. In her tiny kitchen she sliced veal, and dipped into her crème freche and butter liberally. Her pans sizzled, and she stopped cutting up chicken long enough to stir a pot of soup. Stuffed red peppers and potato pie, avacado spread on crusty baggettes. A hearty red wine, chosen by the inspector. Apple tart for dessert. She handed the dishes to her husband who kept the food coming as fast as we could eat it.

“C’est bon!” I said to her, using my newest and most favorite French expression. (It is good!)

Our favorite meal was in Normandy on our day off. We took the train two hours west to Bayeau, a few miles from the beaches of D-Day fame. We walked from the old manor house where we stayed into Bayeau, a town of 20,000 crowned by a beautiful gothic cathedral. A sign pointed in the direction of a nearby McDonald’s—McDrive, said the sign.

But we walked through winding narrow streets past houses 200-to-500 years old to the merchant street, where we found a tiny restaurant – La Rapiere – down an alley. Only 10 tables, a fire crackling in the fireplace. Three hours later, we finished our duck, assorted cheeses and crème brule.

Our first morning back home, I hard-boiled some eggs, sliced the iceberg lettuce and poured a glass of skim milk. It was downright depressing, until I looked at my calendar. Thursday is Thanksgiving! I get to cook in my own kitchen.

On my way out of Des Moines to our family home in Mount Pleasant, I’ll stop at the Metro Market to buy fresh butter, eggs and lard for the stuffing and the pumpkin pies. I’m taking the spatzle, a gift from our new friend the German noodle maker, and the BASF desert wine. I’m ready to do what Iowans do best.