Vegetarianism in Germany: 5 Things to Know

If someone knows that I spent a year in Germany and finds out that I'm vegetarian (or - vice versa - knows that I'm vegetarian and finds out that I spent a year in Germany), it's almost inevitable that they will ask: how did you manage?!

I suppose I find this question strange because, much as Germans enjoy their Bratwurst, Germany is hardly South-East Asia on a culinary level; you can be pretty certain that you're eating potato, not horse.

A German favourite...

Plus, vegetarianism has become so much a part of me now that it's no longer a conscious way I define myself. Meat has never been part of my culinary repertoire, and it's only when I'm confronted with restaurant menus with a limited selection that it really becomes 'a thing'.

(As an aside, what particularly gets me is when people say they 'don't eat vegetarian food'. So, you wouldn't eat an apple then, or drink milk? Or have pizza marguerita? Or, I don't know, cucumber? I find it hard to believe that even the biggest meat-lover is quite so carnivorous as to eat only animals).

Surprising new research discovers that apples are vegetarian.

Anyway, to return to the point, vegetarianism in Germany was unproblematic for a few reasons.

1) They say that when in Rome, do as Romans do. This definitely works in your favour with shopping as a vegetarian in Germany. The German way seems to be to buy as much as you physically can from better-value 'günstigere' (not 'billigere') shops such as Lidl or Aldi, then get the rest from the upmarket Waitrose equivalent. In real terms, this means that you can get your fresh fruit and veg from Lidl/Aldi for practically nothing, and then only need to get protein from the more expensive shop. Most Teguts and Rewes do a fantastic range of meat-free (read: Quorn) products, and look out for the brand Bionatura in particular.

2) Germany has some quirky fruit and veg which will keep any budding chef on their toes and expand their culinary palate, including the delicious brassica Kohl Rabi (which tastes of carrots crossed with broccoli, and costs less than 50 cents). Look out for the Persimmon (or 'Kaki') fruit too - a pricey rarity in the UK, but cheap and cheerful in German Supermärkte.

Kohl Rabi, or: Alien Brassica Vegetable

3) Perhaps the best thing about German cuisine, Auflauf is essentially a cheese-topped romantic encounter between a carb, a vegetable and a sauce in a casserole dish. Delicious, and the variations of vegetarian versions you can make are almost limitless (recipe to follow). In Marburg there's a fantastic place called Café Early, where they serve Auflauf around the clock for a mere €4.90, in portions big enough to keep you cosy.

Not how I'd make it, but you get the idea.

4) I have a confession to make. And classing myself as a bit of a foodie, it's something I suppose I should feel slightly ashamed of. But I don't, because 'twas so cheap, and so good. In German McDonalds, for some bizarre reason (the logic of which I am in no way going to question), they sell Vegiburgers for only €1.10. That's just over the cost of a 0,5l Hefeweizen (including Pfand) – or, in British terms, bliddy good value. I managed to justify eating these by telling myself that there are very few bad things you you can do to vegetables to make them 'low grade' – which, of course, can't be said of non-specific hamburger-animals.

5) Do you want the good news or the bad news? Either way, here's the bad news: I found myself pining for what has, over the past 15 years, become a British store-cupboard essential: chickpeas. If a lot of Eastern Mediterranean – and notably Turkish – food has found its way into German stomachs over the past few decades, it is nonetheless in the form of fast food, not home cooking. So whilst you can buy an industrial-size tin of chickpeas as big as your head to make bulk quantities of falafel for your Dönerladen, vegetarian home-cookers are left either disappointed or completely overwhelmed. Oh, and the good news? Döner-shops are everywhere, and they make cracking falafel wraps.