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Tag: München (Page 1 of 2)

A sweet deal for pensioners

An innovative Munich start-up employs pensioners to bake old-fashioned, traditional cakes. It offers them the opportunity to earn money, feel useful and meet people – and their customers, to enjoy cakes baked with love

Oma Rosemarie (Rottmann), with Opa Günter (Haun), at work at Kuchentratsch. Photograph: Christine Madden

The sweet, warm fragrance envelopes you as soon as you walk through the door. Hidden in a courtyard from the busy street, the Kuchentratsch cake shop entices you in. Just beyond the counter, the doorway to the expansive kitchen stands open, affording a view to the bakers hard at work. Despite the size and industrial fittings of the bakery, you could imagine you’ve called in at your granny’s. The bakers here are all over 65.

Brought into being as a start-up by Katharina Mayer – who, in her 20s, is far from pension age – Kuchentratsch (translation: cake chat/gossip) is not simply a bakery. It’s also a social enterprise and thriving experiment. As an answer to the question “What kind of society would I like to live in when I’m old?”, the company was established to give pensioners the opportunity for suitable employment that also puts much-needed extra funds in their coffers.

“I started by asking myself, ‘Where can you get a really good piece of cake?’ But I always got the best cake at my own granny’s,” says Mayer.

Read more here

Published by The Local Germany, 9 March 2018

 

There’s no place like home

Unique, well-loved Munich café Kaffee Espresso & Barista is shutting down – another casualty of gentrification

Counter culture: baristas Heike Kahms and Boris Sliskovic at Kaffee Espresso & Barista. Photograph: Christine Madden

My “office” is changing hands, and I’m as gutted as the premises will be when they close it down. Strictly speaking, it’s not actually a workplace, but a local and much-loved café. I discovered this place almost seven years ago when I moved into the neighbourhood. It’s not showy or flashy, it doesn’t scream at you with shop-window marketing or streamlined, chichi interiors. Yet it emanates charm, intimacy and welcome. It has style without being stylish, beauty as opposed to fashion.

Munich is a property hotspot. Crushing difficulty in finding accommodation has become the norm. This situation has existed for decades, getting more difficult by the hour. But while German law protects private individuals regarding their rental contracts, no such protection is on the books for small businesses. This is what happened to the owner and proprietor of Kaffee Espresso & Barista, Thomas Leeb. Without any warning, he was unable to renew his lease, and he’ll have to move out of his establishment. After 15 years as a fixture of the local community of Neuhausen (centre-west Munich), the café will cease to exist.

Interior of Kaffee Espresso & Barista. Photograph: Christine Madden

“I’ve lived here for 10 years, this is my local café,” says patron Christine Knesebeck, who visits almost daily with her dog Tonio. “It has a special atmosphere. There’s nothing like it. It should actually have protected status.”

Kaffee Espresso & Barista – which has the name Café Hausbrandt over its door – could be seen as a work of art; “people experience it that way,” says Leeb. “It’s a meeting place with many faces. We grant ourselves leave to express our individuality.” The café – which is, he says, a shop that serves coffee – is unique in several respects. The concept behind it combines a display and sales point for espresso machines, their accessories and the quality coffee to prepare in them. The same coffee is also prepared for customers who want to step into a mini, café-sized wormhole to a relaxed, 360-degree, full-sensory experience of another, more romantic time and space. Vintage posters from early 1900 onwards cover most of the wall space. Plush leather couches and rattan chairs surround polished stone and mosaic tables in intimate clusters. Lit shelves scattered throughout the café groan with different kinds of coffee, cups, coffee pots and espresso machines and a wide array of their accompanying paraphernalia. Leeb even lavishes attention on the choice of music, which ranges from French chansons and Latin rhythms to quirky Italian songs. Boxing this place up won’t just be a gargantuan task – it’s the vivisection of a social ecosystem.

Street view of Kaffee Espresso & Barista. Photograph: Christine Madden

The district council is able to intervene to protect the atmosphere of its locality, but only concerning the sale of a building. In a case such as this, unfortunately, its hands are tied. Local government can do nothing to prevent the demise of Kaffee Espresso & Barista. “An appeal could be started,” says Anna Hanusch, the chair of Munich’s ninth district, where the café is located, “but ultimately the lessor has this right.” Although German law bestows certain protections on private tenants, small businesses and their owners have no such security. It would be necessary, acknowledges Hanusch, to change the law on a national level. As she also lives in the area, she says, “the café is a real institution, it’s a great shame” that it will close.

“Businesses have no protection whatsoever,” Leeb states. “That goes for rent increases and lease cancellation. Rents can be doubled. It’s called the free market.”

Corner wall, Kaffee Espresso & Barista. Photograph: Christine Madden

The lessor of the premises apparently has another patron lined up for the space – who will be putting a café in it, quelle surprise. But whether someone can also put an equivalent atmosphere in the space is doubtful. This is a neighbourhood café, and the locals who frequent it feel a strong sense of ownership – and great regret to see it vanish. Many people come here in the mornings for their coffee, sandwiches and pastries – takeaway or not – meeting and greeting one another as you would at your local pub. Patrons come and go throughout the day, in groups or alone, to work or hold meetings or to have a chat or just a moment’s respite with a coffee and a bun in an atmosphere described by barista Heike Kahms as “an Italian living room”. Shutting this down is gentrification without gentility.

Interior of Kaffee Espresso & Barista. Photograph: Christine Madden

Leeb is actively searching for a new premises in the immediate area – which he acknowledges will be no easy task. In the meantime, Kaffee Espresso & Barista will close its doors to many desolate customers while he and his team box up the interior, which in its comfort and style emanates a certain, diva-like dignity.

“Building owners could decide to leave a café and not throw people out on the street,” laments Knesebeck. “I will miss this café very much.”

  • Do you frequent this café and will miss it? Or do you mourn the loss of a beloved local fixture in your neighbourhood? We’d love to hear from you!

Bar area of Kaffee Espresso & Barista. Photograph: Christine Madden

A peek into the back office at Kaffee Espresso & Barista

Interior of Kaffee Espresso & Barista. Photograph: Christine Madden

 

Rebels with a cause

Sarah Bakewell, author of How to Live, or a Life of Montaigne, and At the Existentialist Cafe, tells her Munich audience why existentialism is the rock-and-roll side of philosophy

Writer Sarah Bakewell, author of ‘At the Existentialist Cafe’, signing books at the Literaturhaus München. Photograph: Christine Madden

AT THE RISK of looking like the PR for Munich’s Literaturhaus, here’s another report on an event in their programme. Apparently English writer Sarah Bakewell doesn’t often tour, but she made an exception and paid the venue an exclusive visit to promote her engaging book, At the Existentialist Café. In a question-and-answer session with Austrian literary critic Sigrid Löffler, with passages from the book read by German actor and singer Wiebke Puls, Bakewell described her enduring love affair with existentialism with easy-going humour and enthusiasm. Better than straight philosophy, Bakewell’s book invites us into the cafés and jazz clubs with the existentialists, whose lives she describes with the arch affection of an intimate. Löffler describes Bakewell as the “master of presenting images in relaxed, chatty language”.

Any apprehensions of a dry-as-dust scholastic treatment of a supposedly defunct philosophical movement should be dispelled by the book’s subtitle: ‘Freedom, Being and Apricot Cocktails’. The philosophers inhabiting this engaging book Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, Albert Camus and others had gained a reputation for being worthy, serious, embodiments of “stuffy old Europe” in American circles. But, argues Bakewell, these people were the rock-and-roll celebrities of mid 20th-century Paris, where they represented youth, rebellion and (sexual) freedom.

Far from propounding a rarefied body of thought, distanced from the world we inhabit, the existentialists were writing about “the problems of living, of the world, of love, of desire and what it means to be a human being”, says Bakewell. Their philosophy is imbued with passion and immediacy, which is why, she says, “existentialism never goes out of fashion for 16-year-olds” – a reference to her own discovery of their dynamic work when she was a teenager.

They felt their ideas had the power to change the world

They also sometimes acted like teenagers, quarrelling and falling out with one another. But, as Bakewell explains, this is because they their ideas mattered so much to them, that they felt their ideas had the power to change the world.

They lived with an admirable intensity and immediacy that we, in our technology-addicted world, no longer seem to feel. Separating ourselves from the bold fact of our physicality, the active reality of our existence, we crave easy thrills and, often virtual, distraction and disruption – nothing like the rebellion and revolt the existentialists thought, felt, advocated and put into practice.

Existentialism, Bakewell believes, has a new validity and urgency in the 21st century. “The existentialists asked questions that we need to think about now,” she states, “the big question of freedom.” The leaching of our freedom in the current political climate, she says, is accompanied by scientific discoveries about the brain, that we don’t make conscious decisions, that we’re ruled by hormones, etc. “It’s an old argument with scientific justification,” she explains, “but it doesn’t answer the question of freedom: what is my life and what am I going to do with it?”

 

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