I’m not a great baker, but I know that bread is supposed to rise. Now that I live in Germany and no longer have a full time job, I spend more of my day cooking that I did back in America. When my bread dough didn’t rise, I blamed myself for getting the cheaper of the two yeast brands at the super market. I promptly returned to the grocery store and purchased the more expensive yeast. It was made by a well-known, high quality German brand, but it was dead too.
I consulted my most Martha Stewart of German women friends. “Oh – the dry yeast in Germany is crap,” she said. “Go for the fresh yeast.” I don’t know what fresh yeast is, so I said to hell with this nonsense and baked a chicken instead.
But, there was one place that day in Germany where yeast was alive and well. It had become itchily apparent that there was an overgrowth of yeast in my females. I’d had a few yeast infections before, and I was well aware of the symptoms. So – what’s the big deal – you might think. Surely women in Germany have vaginas that occasionally get a little yeasty. Surely they have drug stores in Germany. Just go to one and buy a German yeast infection treatment. Well, not so fast.