Seelen

Long before baking bread became a popular pandemic activity, my darling husband would rise early on a Sunday morning and continue his quest to bake the perfect Seelen. He had varying success, until one June morning he produced spectacularly crusty Seelen. He posted the result on social media, prompting many to ask just what Seelen were. 

Seelen, literally "souls," are the bread found in the pocket of Swabia whence my darling husband originates. They are a staple of the German breakfast table, slathered in butter, bedecked with cold cuts, sometimes anointed with chocolate hazelnut spread. As one does. 

Alfred Jr.'s Seelen

As reactions to the photos of Seelen were still pouring in, darling husband was gathered with his family to share salty tears and Seelen with his family. For while he was baking, his father had begun slipping towards the other side. Alfred Hellstern Sr. passed the threshold in the wee hours of our morning, shortly after his son arrived in the Vaterland.

Seelen were originally small loaves placed on graves for All Soul's Day. But they're so good with fresh butter, it would be a waste to not share it with the living, and make it daily. 

This is where I admonish you to hold your family tight, and perhaps share a crusty loaf with those you love. Because all too soon, we must say goodbye.

The last farewell

Coronation Days

My mother-in-law penned the tale of how her "pen pal," later to be her husband Alfred, finally managed to come to England in the summer of 1953. His visit happily coincided with the coronation. As she tells it:

He arrived just before the coronation of Queen Elizabeth II and I wanted to look at it on the TV. My mother said, "you cannot do that, Thelma, you ought to go to London with him!" So on the evening of the day before the coronation took place, we travelled with my cousin Terry to Regent Street in London. We sat on the pavement on a blanket in about the third row back from the kerb at 11:00 pm at night.  At 7:00 am the next morning, police on horseback came round and we were told we must all stand up. 

It wasn’t until 5 pm in the afternoon that the Queen and Philipp went past us in the Golden coach. It was raining slightly and the coaches with Kings and Queens from other countries had them closed up so that we only saw them through the windows. In the procession, only one Queen didn’t mind the rain: the Queen of Tonga, a smiling stout lady, was in her open coach. 

When the procession had passed by, we returned back to Walthamstow and I said, "I would not have missed it for the world, it was quite a sensation."

Queen Salote of Tonga famously delighted the crowds
in the coronation procession for Elizabeth II