<p>“In the Middle Ages, marzipan was considered a medicinal drug and was exclusively sold in chemist shops,” says Marcus Niendorf, the fourth-generation owner of Löwen Pharmacy in Lübeck, Germany. I look incredulously at the amount of powdered almonds and sugar that will go into making marzipan, and can hardly believe that this sweet treat was once considered a curative. While Löwen Pharmacy no longer produces the confection, it is perhaps fitting that the marzipan-making workshop is arranged at this apothecary located in Lübeck’s oldest townhouse dating to around 1230. As I start mixing the ingredients, I wonder how this charming north German town on the Baltic Sea became the marzipan capital of the world.</p>.<p>Marzipan originated in the 9th century in Persia, from where traders brought it to Italy in the early Middle Ages. And trade is what brought it to Lübeck, one of the chief trading cities of the Hanseatic League. However, a local legend insists that marzipan was invented in the city in 1407 when famine forced bakers to make bread — called marci-pani — from almond flour. Whatever the origin story, there’s no doubt that marzipan has been Lübeck’s calling card for several centuries. The city’s guild halls mention the word ‘Martzapaen’ in 1530.</p>.<p>Initially, only the apothecaries were allowed to trade in sugar and spices, which is why marzipan was only available as a medicine, supposedly for gut health as well as for potency. It was also expensive, and only Europe’s nobility had access to it. That changed in the 19th century when sugar became more affordable and even ordinary citizens could indulge in marzipan.</p>.<p><strong>Hits the sweet spot</strong></p>.<p>In Lübeck’s old town, right opposite the Rathaus (Town Hall), I stop at a three-storey building that proclaims Niederegger on its façade. Founded in 1806 by pastry chef Johann Georg Niederegger, this is the oldest marzipan manufacturer still in existence in the city. The shop window has an elaborate marzipan sculpture depicting the city’s iconic skyline with its multiple church spires as well as Holstentor, the 15th-century Brick Gothic city gate that marked the western boundary of the city; the gate and the old city centre have been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1987. The current Niederegger building dates to 1948 and was rebuilt at the same spot where the original café (destroyed in WWII) stood. Inside, it houses a sprawling shop selling hundreds of different marzipan creations and a café-restaurant on the first floor.</p>.<p><strong>Deep dive</strong></p>.<p>Past the café-bar, I walk through a door marked “Marzipan Salon” and climb up the red-carpeted winding staircase. The Marzipan Museum (free entry) greets me with a city map showing all the marzipan makers in Lübeck from 1795 to the present day — from some 35 manufacturers in the 20th century, only four or five now remain. The next wall details its history, accompanied by intricately carved marzipan tablets with pictorial depictions. One of the most striking exhibits is a tableau of life-size marzipan sculptures of many stalwarts of its history, from Johann Georg Niederegger to Lübeck-born, Nobel Prize-winning author Thomas Mann who reportedly enjoyed marzipan but called it “harem confectionery” because of its Oriental origins. Another large replica of the Holstentor stands next to this tableau. The museum also showcases handwritten recipe books and decorative wooden moulds, brass tongs, modelling sticks and other paraphernalia used to make marzipan.</p>.<p>Finally, a video shows how marzipan is made today following time-honoured recipes but with the help of state-of-the-art machinery. Almonds are first blanched (soaked in hot water and skin peeled off) and then powdered finely. The sugar goes in next (also powdered) and then the mixture is stirred over a flame to create a thick, gooey consistency. After cooling, the marzipan is ready to be moulded, covered with chocolate, or used in any other recipes. In 1996, Lübeck Marzipan was given the “protected designation of geographical origin” tag in the EU, similar to say Champagne, Gouda cheese, etc. Only marzipan produced in Lübeck and the neighbouring towns of Bad Schwartau and Stockelsdorf can be called Lübeck marzipan and it can contain no more than 30 percent sugar.</p>.<p><strong>Taste test</strong></p>.<p>At the marzipan workshop, I have no machines, of course; just a mortar and pestle to pound the almonds and sugar down. I add a few drops of rose essence to the powdered almonds, mix in the sugar, and then grind the mixture. Since the quantity is small, the mortar pestle produces enough friction/heat to convert the powdered ingredients into a thick mass. I then use a mould to cut the marzipan in the shape of the Holstentor, what else?</p>.<p>In my two days in Lübeck, I ate more than my fair share of marzipan confectionery including many chocolates stuffed with the sweet paste. On the last morning, I dropped by at Niederegger’s Arkadencafe which opened opposite the original café in 2008. Its seating spills out into the Market Square flanked by many historic buildings and the twin spires of Marienkirche (St Mary’s Church) in the background.</p>.<p>I dig into their signature Nusstorte, a classic German nut cake of hazelnut cream covered with marzipan coating. It’s not very sweet, perhaps because of the 30 percent sugar rule, but I find the cake too creamy. I prefer their assorted chocolate-coated marzipan any day.</p>.<p>Naturally, I return to India with a couple of boxes in my suitcase...not to mention a couple of inches on my waistline!</p>
<p>“In the Middle Ages, marzipan was considered a medicinal drug and was exclusively sold in chemist shops,” says Marcus Niendorf, the fourth-generation owner of Löwen Pharmacy in Lübeck, Germany. I look incredulously at the amount of powdered almonds and sugar that will go into making marzipan, and can hardly believe that this sweet treat was once considered a curative. While Löwen Pharmacy no longer produces the confection, it is perhaps fitting that the marzipan-making workshop is arranged at this apothecary located in Lübeck’s oldest townhouse dating to around 1230. As I start mixing the ingredients, I wonder how this charming north German town on the Baltic Sea became the marzipan capital of the world.</p>.<p>Marzipan originated in the 9th century in Persia, from where traders brought it to Italy in the early Middle Ages. And trade is what brought it to Lübeck, one of the chief trading cities of the Hanseatic League. However, a local legend insists that marzipan was invented in the city in 1407 when famine forced bakers to make bread — called marci-pani — from almond flour. Whatever the origin story, there’s no doubt that marzipan has been Lübeck’s calling card for several centuries. The city’s guild halls mention the word ‘Martzapaen’ in 1530.</p>.<p>Initially, only the apothecaries were allowed to trade in sugar and spices, which is why marzipan was only available as a medicine, supposedly for gut health as well as for potency. It was also expensive, and only Europe’s nobility had access to it. That changed in the 19th century when sugar became more affordable and even ordinary citizens could indulge in marzipan.</p>.<p><strong>Hits the sweet spot</strong></p>.<p>In Lübeck’s old town, right opposite the Rathaus (Town Hall), I stop at a three-storey building that proclaims Niederegger on its façade. Founded in 1806 by pastry chef Johann Georg Niederegger, this is the oldest marzipan manufacturer still in existence in the city. The shop window has an elaborate marzipan sculpture depicting the city’s iconic skyline with its multiple church spires as well as Holstentor, the 15th-century Brick Gothic city gate that marked the western boundary of the city; the gate and the old city centre have been a UNESCO World Heritage Site since 1987. The current Niederegger building dates to 1948 and was rebuilt at the same spot where the original café (destroyed in WWII) stood. Inside, it houses a sprawling shop selling hundreds of different marzipan creations and a café-restaurant on the first floor.</p>.<p><strong>Deep dive</strong></p>.<p>Past the café-bar, I walk through a door marked “Marzipan Salon” and climb up the red-carpeted winding staircase. The Marzipan Museum (free entry) greets me with a city map showing all the marzipan makers in Lübeck from 1795 to the present day — from some 35 manufacturers in the 20th century, only four or five now remain. The next wall details its history, accompanied by intricately carved marzipan tablets with pictorial depictions. One of the most striking exhibits is a tableau of life-size marzipan sculptures of many stalwarts of its history, from Johann Georg Niederegger to Lübeck-born, Nobel Prize-winning author Thomas Mann who reportedly enjoyed marzipan but called it “harem confectionery” because of its Oriental origins. Another large replica of the Holstentor stands next to this tableau. The museum also showcases handwritten recipe books and decorative wooden moulds, brass tongs, modelling sticks and other paraphernalia used to make marzipan.</p>.<p>Finally, a video shows how marzipan is made today following time-honoured recipes but with the help of state-of-the-art machinery. Almonds are first blanched (soaked in hot water and skin peeled off) and then powdered finely. The sugar goes in next (also powdered) and then the mixture is stirred over a flame to create a thick, gooey consistency. After cooling, the marzipan is ready to be moulded, covered with chocolate, or used in any other recipes. In 1996, Lübeck Marzipan was given the “protected designation of geographical origin” tag in the EU, similar to say Champagne, Gouda cheese, etc. Only marzipan produced in Lübeck and the neighbouring towns of Bad Schwartau and Stockelsdorf can be called Lübeck marzipan and it can contain no more than 30 percent sugar.</p>.<p><strong>Taste test</strong></p>.<p>At the marzipan workshop, I have no machines, of course; just a mortar and pestle to pound the almonds and sugar down. I add a few drops of rose essence to the powdered almonds, mix in the sugar, and then grind the mixture. Since the quantity is small, the mortar pestle produces enough friction/heat to convert the powdered ingredients into a thick mass. I then use a mould to cut the marzipan in the shape of the Holstentor, what else?</p>.<p>In my two days in Lübeck, I ate more than my fair share of marzipan confectionery including many chocolates stuffed with the sweet paste. On the last morning, I dropped by at Niederegger’s Arkadencafe which opened opposite the original café in 2008. Its seating spills out into the Market Square flanked by many historic buildings and the twin spires of Marienkirche (St Mary’s Church) in the background.</p>.<p>I dig into their signature Nusstorte, a classic German nut cake of hazelnut cream covered with marzipan coating. It’s not very sweet, perhaps because of the 30 percent sugar rule, but I find the cake too creamy. I prefer their assorted chocolate-coated marzipan any day.</p>.<p>Naturally, I return to India with a couple of boxes in my suitcase...not to mention a couple of inches on my waistline!</p>