LIVE TO EAT: Helmut Kohl, Saumagen and "the art of stuffing yourself while chancellor."

Saumagen for the soul.

There'll be thousands of words written about the late Helmut Kohl, who died yesterday at 87. Most of them will include a pun on the order of "Kohl, a German political heavyweight."

True that, and in more than one way. I'm here today neither to condemn Kohl, nor to praise him. Rather, it's to recognize that few world leaders of our generation merit designation as a card-carrying trencherman.

Not a gourmand. A trencherman.

Following are two examples. The first links Kohl with the "rustic peasant dish" called Saumagen, and includes a recipe.

Appetite (and iron-clad stomach) for success, by Irina Dumitrescu (Politico EU)

The art of stuffing yourself while chancellor.

BONN, Germany — Helmut Kohl’s surname means “cabbage” in German. The satirical magazine Titanic nicknamed him “Birne” in the 1980s due to the pear-like shape of his head, and the moniker stuck. So it isn’t surprising that the bon vivant was associated in the popular imagination with food, and especially with blithely excessive culinary indulgence. Eating was not only a delight for Kohl, however. It was also a way of establishing his regional identity and conducting politics.

Ask a German what Kohl liked to eat, and they will answer without hesitation: “Saumagen!” The dish is a specialty of Kohl’s native state, Rhineland-Palatinate, and seems the kind of food you would have to be raised on to love: a pig’s stomach is stuffed with well-spiced pork, carrots and potatoes, the whole is cooked in hot water, then sliced, pan-fried, and served with sauerkraut and local wine.

Popular lore holds that Saumagen originated as a rustic peasant dish, a way of using up leftovers from the pig, but other theories hold that it was a highlight of the autumn butcher fest. It is a perfect union of high and low, and Kohl made a practice of serving it to visiting dignitaries.

Did Kohl ever serve Saumagen to Maggie Thatcher?

It seems unlikely, given this most memorable of all Kohl eating tales.

Obituary: Helmut Kohl died on June 16th, aged 87, in The Economist.

The former German chancellor piloted his country and Europe through unification

 ... His giant girth was much mocked: his nickname was die Birne (“the Pear”). But people underestimated him at their peril. His unabashed provincialism grated with modern-minded Germans who expected their politicians to be cerebral, cultured and cosmopolitan. He spoke no foreign language, and some said his German was poor, too. He displayed only a token interest in art, music and literature. His personal life was fraught: his long-suffering wife Hannelore committed suicide in 2001. Outside politics, his main interest was food: solid German fare, and plenty of it. Asked if anything interrupted his sleep, he said it was night-time forays to the fridge.

Only with Margaret Thatcher could he strike no chord. When she was holidaying in his favourite lakeside resort he cut short a meeting, pleading “unbreakable commitments”. Walking down the street later, Britain’s leader saw Mr Kohl in a café, busy only with a large cream cake. Their relationship never recovered.

"Thatcher Fucked the Kids," and other enduring, common-sense anthems.

As selected from this wonderful compendium of fully justifiable spite: 21 Incredibly Angry Songs About Margaret Thatcher (Buzzfeed). Thanks to The Guardian for the signpost.

Meanwhile, it's worth remembering that Thatcher regarded General Augusto Pinochet as a friend, and the two shared an affinity for economic "reforms" of the sort that would delight Mike Pence, Ed Clere and numerous other Americans.

Why Would Anyone Celebrate the Death of Margaret Thatcher? Ask a Chilean, by Dave Zirin (The Nation)

Never have I witnessed a gap between the mainstream media and the public quite like the last twenty-four hours since the death of Margaret Thatcher. While both the press and President Obama were uttering tearful remembrances, thousands took to the streets of the UK and beyond to celebrate. Immediately this drew strong condemnation of what were called "death parties," described as “tasteless”, “horrible” and “beneath all human decency.” Yet if the same media praising Thatcher and appalled by the popular response would bother to ask one of the people celebrating, they might get a story that doesn't fit into their narrative, which is probably why they aren't asking at all.

Perhaps that's why ...

Margaret Thatcher's death celebrated in Brixton - video

Several hundred people hold an impromptu street party in Brixton, south London, on Monday evening to celebrate the death of Margaret Thatcher. Young and old descended on the suburb, which weathered two outbreaks of rioting during the Thatcher years, shouting, 'Maggie, Maggie, Maggie, dead, dead, dead'

Another relic of Thatcherism?

Ronnie Ray-Gun, of course.

We Are All Thatcherites Now, by Maria Margaronis (The Nation)

... The dead hand of tradition will heap blessings upon her head, along with no small number of her old enemies. The millions of us who dissent will remember that hypocrisy is essential to the British elite; that one may smile, and smile, and be a villain.

The question now has an answer.

Previously at NAC: The 8th One Southern Indiana Kingpin for a Week is right here.

... She's tanned, rested and ready, and Margaret Thatcher is stepping away from retirement to lend some stiff upper lip to 1Si's ongoing advocacy of taxing Indiana's workers to get to their jobs, via bridge tolls and unnecessary, obsolete-before-being-built ORBP infrastructure. It's called One Southern Indiana Right to Pay to Work (except union dues, of course), and the exurban enrichment society is counting on Maggie to keep them damned pergessives quiet ... well, for a week at least.

The 8th One Southern Indiana Kingpin for a Week is right here.

The search for One Southern Indiana's latest temporary CEO continues, and NAC is volunteering weekly headhunting assistance, because we're civic-minded when not otherwise stuck in Bridge Tolls City, all inTOXICated again. Previous weekly winners have been:

Angry Easter Bunny
Sancho Panza
Sean Payton
Jethro Bodine
Rush Limbaugh
Vaughan Scott
Benny Breeze

Who'll be the next momentary 1Si kingpin, who will check his or her travel arrangements just prior to reciting the oath of office, which precedes the permanent vacation that follows a whole week's vainglorious labor?

I would like to announce that I have accepted the post of CEO of One Southern Indiana. I regret that I have to step down on Monday. I treasure our time that we have worked together.

She's tanned, rested and ready, and Margaret Thatcher is stepping away from retirement to lend some stiff upper lip to 1Si's ongoing advocacy of taxing Indiana's workers to get to their jobs, via bridge tolls and unnecessary, obsolete-before-being-built ORBP infrastructure. It's called One Southern Indiana Right to Pay to Work (except union dues, of course), and the exurban enrichment society is counting on Maggie to keep them damned pergessives quiet ... well, for a week at least.

The making of Maggie (Guardian)
She found it easy to charm men ... women simply didn't count She was the grocer's daughter with a stong moral conscience who ruled with an iron fist - or so the story goes. In fact, she was a millionaire's wife, who lacked scruples and did what her male colleagues told her, argues Germaine Greer on the eve of the 30th anniversary of Mrs Thatcher's election