Angelika Only 10 days left... Michael grumbles because the season for wearing shorts is finally over. Until the end, he resisted pulling the long pants out of the closet. A few days ago, I bought another "Cheap" brand umbrella because, after the long period without rain, I hadn't been prepared for the wetness from above that also falls from the sky in San Francisco during the winter. But even though Christmas is approaching and the rain is making its return, our gloves and scarves are gathering dust in closets and drawers. While Michael has transformed into a Californian and vows never to live in cold countries again, I long for winter days during the Christmas season when Northern Europeans visit Christmas markets and drink mulled wine to ward off the cold. I must admit that we often romanticize what we've left behind when we're abroad. I think of crisp, sunny winter days; you think of black ice, wetness, and slush. I crave gingerbread and Mon Cheri candy, while you are annoyed that Christmas items are already in stores in October.

A special kind of pleasure for me during the Christmas season is going to the German store "Lehr's" on Church Street -- just around the corner from us. Here, both German expats and Americans with a sweet tooth can find everything their hearts desire: marzipan loaves, Bahlsen gingerbread, Mon Cheri, Erfrischungsstäbchen, Duplos, licorice, Jacobs Krönung, and the good coffee by Dallmayr. Penaten cream, Bebe, Fa shower gel are on the shelves alongside real Christmas tree candles - a stroll through the German product range. Only peanut flips, Bahlsen potato chips, and Tempos have I often searched for in vain there. A misery! Special "treats" include German folk music cassettes, CDs by Peter Alexander and Costa Cordalis, as well as the somewhat dusty videos of the ZDF series "Ein Herz für Tiere" (this is not a joke). Other stereotypical German "cultural goods" are also there: beer steins, Hummel figurines, D-stickers for the car, and the magazine "Das Goldene Blatt." If a German tourist were to stray into this store, they would take a time travel back to the 1950s: a quaint, somewhat aged mom-and-pop store awaits them. I just sincerely hope that Americans who shop at "Lehr's" don't think all stores in Germany look like this.

Older ladies, who couldn't look more American, wander through the aisles and suddenly raise their voices to remark in German that this or that product is much cheaper in Germany. Sentimental inclinations do have their price. The small box of Mon Cheri (15 pieces in a pack) costs over 10 dollars, and I don't even know what you pay for it in Germany. Parents with their children also come to "Lehr's." Often, the mothers or fathers stop in front of certain items and explain to their offspring with shining eyes that they always had this or that for Christmas. It's crazy how a loving relationship with food develops abroad, especially with items that aren't easy to buy. The best part is eavesdropping on the conversations in the small store. A funny mix of German and English--"Denglisch," so to speak--is spoken. An older man recounted that this year he is buying real Christmas tree candles for his tree for the first time again, after having caused a devastating fire in his wooden house in San Francisco a few years ago because the Christmas tree with the burning candles had fallen over. Oops!

From my last visit to Lehr's, I came home with Duplos, gingerbread (the ones covered in chocolate), and Mon Cheri. So if you're tired of the sight of your leftover Mon Cheri on the colorful plate on the second holiday this year, think of us and enjoy eating them!

In this spirit, we wish you a Merry Christmas!

Angelika und Michael