Smoke, Salt, and Sweet-Sour North: Ralf’s Week in Food
On a mild North German evening, eight chairs were pulled close to the fire drum, wine glasses caught the light, and every ten minutes the yard bloomed with a new aroma. Ralf—patient, exacting, happiest when left alone at the grill—ran the sequence like an orchestra: seafood to open, then mushrooms, then a roulade of flank…
