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Updated: June 26, 2025
Line a cake-pan, which has been well-buttered, with a thin layer of kuchen dough. Stone two pounds of cherries and lay them on a sieve with a dish underneath to catch the juice. Sprinkle sugar over them and bake. In the meantime beat up four eggs with a cup of sugar, beat until light and add the cherry juice. Draw the kuchen to the oven door, pour this mixture over it and bake.
The little old lady hurried into the house and brought out Kuchen and beer. Frieda was blissful. They spoke good German, and had visited Berlin. They were full of respect when they learned that Frieda's father was a Herr Professor, for they themselves had been simple tradespeople.
There were cakes with jelly, and cinnamon kuchen, and cunning cakes with almond slices nestling side by side. And there was freshly-baked bread twisted loaf, with poppy seed freckling its braid, and its sides glistening with the butter that had been liberally swabbed on it before it had been thrust into the oven. Fanny Brandeis gazed, hypnotized.
Many of these things Frau Knapf herself told me, standing there by the door with the Kuchen heavy on her mind. Some of them I got from Ernst von Gerhard when I told him about my visitor and her errand. The errand was not disclosed until Frau Knapf had caught me casting a despairing glance at my last typewritten page. "Ach, see! you got no time for talking to, ain't it?" she apologized.
Then he addressed the Wilbur twin, now skillfully prolonging the last of his cookies. "Well, young one, you like your bread and cheese and milk and cookies and apfel kuchen, so? Well, I tell you come here. I show you something fine." He went to the front room, where the bar was, and the Wilbur twin expectantly followed. He had learned that these good people produced all manner of delights.
"Ach, no!" smiled the substantial Frau Knapf, clinging tightly to the door knob. "I got no time. It gives much to do to-night yet. Kuchen dough I must set, und ich weiss nicht was. I got no time." Bustling, red-cheeked Frau Knapf! This was why I had never had a glimpse of her. Always, she got no time.
The coffee came hot and good and a whole ring of cake. 'A whole Kuchen! cried Ursula. 'They give you more than us! I want some of yours. There were other people in the place, ten altogether, so Birkin had found out: two artists, three students, a man and wife, and a Professor and two daughters all Germans. The four English people, being newcomers, sat in their coign of vantage to watch.
The mixture is rolled flat, placed in a shallow pan, let rise again until very light, sprinkled with finely chopped nuts, dusted over with sugar and cinnamon and baked in a quick oven. Make kuchen dough. Add a little cinnamon and mace and one teaspoon of anise seed, well pounded, or flavor to taste.
Back yonder, at the very ford we crossed, her poor mother was trampled under foot and drowned in the frightened throng. It was at the fort there, where we had the buttermilk and Kuchen, that your cousin, Major Cross, found the little girl. I wonder if he ever knew how deeply grateful to him we were and are."
Although the good Mrs. Schmittheimer was not unfrequently visited by female compatriots who condoled with her and drank her coffee and ate her kuchen, after the fashion of sympathetic, suffering womanhood, she wearied of this loneliness; she was, in fact, as anxious to get away from the old place as Alice and I were to get into it. So Alice and Mrs.
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