Art, Food & Tollwood: A Winter Day In Munich.

The Magic of Sharing a Meal

In just one day, I explore Munich's festive Christmas offerings, immersing myself in a world of large and small markets alike.

A winter day in Munich. This time, I reconnect with a group of friends I haven’t seen since the early days of my relationship with Lucas. In the short time we have together, we strive to make it as meaningful as possible. And what better way to do that than by sharing a meal?

Since ancient times, the ritual of breaking bread has symbolized community, connection, and the willingness to share resources. For the ancient Greeks and Romans, sharing a meal was a sacred act that affirmed belonging to a group.

It’s no surprise, then, that I’ve been fixated on food since childhood. Not only as emotional comfort during tough times, but above all as a vehicle for building connection.

On this day, we take this ritual seriously and celebrate our reunion by quite literally eating our way through Munich.

Discovering Café Marais: A Vintage Culinary Gem

Our first stop is Café Marais. As we marvel at the interior, we speculate about what this space might have been before it became what it is today. The walls are lined with dark wooden drawers and display cases that remind me of an old apothecary. In the center of the room stands a long counter, also made of heavy, dark wood.

There’s an abundance of everything—plenty of people, lovingly curated details, and carefully selected items for sale. Beautifully wrapped chocolates, antique jewelry, gourmet pralines, and black-and-white postcards from the 1920s catch the eye. It’s part vintage shop, part delicatessen—and right in the middle, there are tables and chairs for dining.

As I lean forward to pick out a postcard from a stand, my scarf dangles dangerously close to the porridge of the person breakfasting just in front of me. The abundance extends to the cake selection, too—each one more tempting than the last. Pistachio Poppy Seed, Earl Grey Lemon Meringue, Walnut Pear...

A sense of relief washes over me when my friend suggests taking two pieces as I once again struggle to decide. I'm grateful, reminded of how I used to be criticized and reprimanded in the past. Here, I am effortlessly accepted just as I am. We order three and share them sisterly-style.

In this post I talk about discovering a city through its cakes and how to get rid of shame by eating my way through Konstanz.

Art and Inspiration at the Geiger Archive

Our next stop is the Geiger Archive. From the outside, it appears unassuming, but stepping inside reveals an entirely different world: color. Clear, vibrant hues greet us at every turn as we enter the space. Geiger's works are abstract, geometric, and minimalist—yet at the same time, alive and deeply emotional. Despite their simplicity, the pieces radiate an incredible energy and power.

Geiger lived and worked primarily in Munich, and the archive of his works was established a year after his death. Managed by his granddaughter, the archive is dedicated to preserving and showcasing his artistic legacy. In addition to the exhibition, visitors can book workshops where they can experiment with printing techniques and colors, drawing inspiration from Geiger’s work.

For Geiger, colors were almost like characters. Red, for instance, was more than just a color to him—it was an emotion, a message. I stand before one of his works, a massive expanse of radiant pink, staring back at me with an intensity that pierces through.

In this moment, I’m transported back to a time of creative drought. I see myself sitting at a table, longing to paint—something I’d loved and excelled at as a child. I’m hunched over the paper, trying to apply watercolors, but I feel drained and uninspired. What lands on the page resembles a child’s drawing, a feeble attempt to express myself creatively. And then I hear his voice: “You can’t even draw properly! You can't doing anything!” During that time with him, I created nothing. Next to him, who seemed to turn everything he touched into perfection, I felt worthless, empty, incapable.

Today, standing in front of this painting, I feel a kind of liberation. These colors, so bold and unapologetic, remind me that art isn’t about perfection. It’s about capturing an emotion, a moment, a thought. As I wander through the archive, I feel a yearning—to paint quietly, day after day, away from the noise.

On a table, I notice curious natural objects he collected and incorporated into his work. Trash turned into something new and beautiful. I find myself inspired by his technique. I feel the urge to create again—to transform the weight and pain of the past into something meaningful, something new.

On this day, Geiger gave me back something I thought I’d lost long ago: the inspiration for a new beginning. 

Munich Christmas Markets: A Feast for the Senses

We end the day with a stroll through some of Munich’s special Christmas markets—with a clear culinary focus, of course.

Our first stop is the alternative Tollwood Festival. Here, we try Bosna, an Austrian specialty: a spiced bratwurst served in crispy white bread, topped with mustard, onions, and a sprinkle of curry powder. Not long after, we sample Duck Döner, which tastes nothing short of a revelation: tender duck meat, crispy skin, fresh herbs, and a hint of pomegranate sauce. To wash it down, there’s mango mulled wine—a warm, fruity delight.

Magical: The Christmas Market at “Gans Woanders”

From the sprawling maze of Tollwood, we move on to a tiny market: Gans Woanders (“Goose Elsewhere”). Normally, it’s a charming restaurant with a cozy wooden house aesthetic and a treehouse terrace, but in winter, it transforms into a warm oasis. There are yurts selling handcrafted goods and, naturally, even more food stalls.

Here, we treat ourselves to wild boar sausage—hearty, smoky, and perfectly seasoned. For dessert, we indulge in sweet waffles, a fittingly decadent conclusion to our culinary adventure.

By the end of the day, we’ve eaten more than we do in an entire week. Our bellies are full, our hearts are happy from the reunion, and the day feels like a gift.

Be well,

Vaselisa