Lost places in gastronomy

What could be more wonderful than sitting outside in a beer garden on a warm summer's evening, socialising or alone, with a good book or the drink of your choice, and enjoying the atmosphere! Unfortunately, no one will be able to sit in the following pubs because they have disappeared, torn down, so-called "lost places" that only exist in the culture of memory. If you look at the old postcards, you can still catch a glimpse of the atmosphere of dignified leisure activities, country pubs and amusement. The basic prerequisite for the development of such inns is a lively tourist trade in addition to the local regular clientele. This began for Lößnitz in the second half of the 19th century, mainly due to the growing railway traffic.

It was in this context that the railway hotel was built 150 years ago in the municipality of Radebeul, not far from the station. The butcher Johann Christian Adolf Herrmann had Moritz Ziller build the building in 1865, initially as an inn. Pleasant get-togethers could already be enjoyed on the spacious garden terrace, billiard parlour, bowling alley or in the function room, but those who wanted to spend the night here at a later hour were disappointed. It was not until 1888 that the hotel was extended. Perhaps many a local councillor laid their smoking heads down there after a heated debate, as the premises served as their conference room until the Radebeul town hall was built. In the GDR era, the popular saying was: "let's go to 'Hermann's'"! After an eventful history of use, demolition in 1994, years as a sinkhole and investment ruin, the area has recently been transformed into a modern and lively district centre as part of the Radebeul-Ost redevelopment area. Today there is a large food market on the site. Even if it is no longer possible to enjoy a drink under the shady trees in the restaurant garden, which can be a welcome way to pass the waiting time, especially in times of permanent railway strikes, you can still buy them here.

Not even that can be said of the "Kommun slaughterhouse". It was located, demonstrably since 1725, in the immediate vicinity of the Altkötzschenbroda parish hall and, together with the bakery, farmsteads, schoolhouse, tavern and Friedenskirche church, formed its own small marketplace. The tenant was authorised to serve alcoholic beverages, entertain guests and also provide accommodation during fair days. If it was busy on festival or market days, the landlord simply moved his restaurant outside. This ivy-covered inn was popular with both locals and out-of-town traders, not only because of its cosy atmosphere but also because of the high quality of its food and drink. However, the sale of beer led to disputes with the two other pubs. It took a settlement to calm the waters. It was demolished in 1908 in favour of a wider avenue leading to the church. What remains today is a small green area with tall trees, which is used as an open-air restaurant three days a year.

Although Saxony is currently celebrating 1000 years of beer brewing tradition, the term "Biergarten" comes from Bavaria. By decree, beer was only allowed to be brewed during the cold season in the 19th century due to the rapid spoilage of the barley juice and the high risk of fire. So that beer thirsty people didn't have to sit on dry land in summer, the people of Munich built deep beer cellars in the Isar as storage facilities. The slopes were also planted with chestnut trees, which provided cooling shade in summer. The beer gardens were born and established themselves as popular excursion destinations. All classes of Munich's population came together here and social boundaries were blurred at the communal table. Later, parks and green spaces were expanded and equipped with beer gardens. In Bavaria in particular, the original tradition of guests bringing their own snacks and only buying drinks has been preserved.

Hardly anything is as ambivalent as forgetting - danger and grace at the same time. A memory of things is formed in a culture and images of the past are reflected in buildings in particular. Even the individual imperfect tense is interwoven with time and place. If these binding spaces disappear, a part of one's own identity is also lost - lost places. Repetition, development and relationships create memory.

But not everything is worth memorising - and perhaps long-lasting rail strikes will one day be a thing of the past.

Maren Gündel, City Archive

Published in: Official Gazette July 2015