Heidelberger Herbst
The boys and I took the Strassenbahn to Heidelberg today to check out their Herbst (fall festival). The pedestrian zone was packed with vendors and entertainers, people garage selling in the alleys and there were a few stages with live music throughout the area. We walked around, ate some typical German street food, looked at some of the stuff the vendors were selling, and I didn't lose either of the kids.
I never liked Brats but I've tried to consume them twice now at these little city festivals. All it did was confirm that I don't like them. I don't like them on a bun, I don't like them on the run, I don't like them with a beer, I don't like them anywheeere. I will not eat a Brat again. I will not, will not, entschuldigen. (That means "excuse me", it doesn't make sense but it rhymes, a little).
I do love the Champigiones. They are some specific type of mushroom sauted in something that just makes them fabulous and then there is this delicious sauce on them - that tips them over the edge from just good to darn tasty.
The Pommes Fritas are basically fries. I'm not a big fry fan, but they are great as far as fries go. I'd much rather have the little pommes than any other fry I've had before. Yep I said it. They are better than Five Guys.
We shared a crepe with cinnamon and sugar, and Gabriel opted for some chocolate gelato. I stepped into the Starbucks today for the first time since we moved here. I think Matt may have grabbed me a regular Joe from there once before, but today I got a Venti Coffee Frappuccino and it was good! We walked to an open field and plopped down in the sun so I could focus on truly enjoying my drink.
So, all this food ordering confirmed that I have some serious pronunciation issues. I say all the right words but one minor pronunciation error and I have people looking at me in total confusion. Thüringer. T-huringer. T-h-ooouringer. T-h-ooourin-grrr. I don't know. After a moment of the guy looking perplexed and thinking "Was ist sie sprechen?" I pointed to the menu and the breakdown in communication passed. Believe it or not, Fanta, as in that nasty orange soda, can be pronounced by this California girl in such a way that the salesman is clueless on that one too. And this is why I spend 1 1/2 hours two nights a week in German class. To survive.
Always an adventure.
I never liked Brats but I've tried to consume them twice now at these little city festivals. All it did was confirm that I don't like them. I don't like them on a bun, I don't like them on the run, I don't like them with a beer, I don't like them anywheeere. I will not eat a Brat again. I will not, will not, entschuldigen. (That means "excuse me", it doesn't make sense but it rhymes, a little).
I do love the Champigiones. They are some specific type of mushroom sauted in something that just makes them fabulous and then there is this delicious sauce on them - that tips them over the edge from just good to darn tasty.
The Pommes Fritas are basically fries. I'm not a big fry fan, but they are great as far as fries go. I'd much rather have the little pommes than any other fry I've had before. Yep I said it. They are better than Five Guys.
We shared a crepe with cinnamon and sugar, and Gabriel opted for some chocolate gelato. I stepped into the Starbucks today for the first time since we moved here. I think Matt may have grabbed me a regular Joe from there once before, but today I got a Venti Coffee Frappuccino and it was good! We walked to an open field and plopped down in the sun so I could focus on truly enjoying my drink.
So, all this food ordering confirmed that I have some serious pronunciation issues. I say all the right words but one minor pronunciation error and I have people looking at me in total confusion. Thüringer. T-huringer. T-h-ooouringer. T-h-ooourin-grrr. I don't know. After a moment of the guy looking perplexed and thinking "Was ist sie sprechen?" I pointed to the menu and the breakdown in communication passed. Believe it or not, Fanta, as in that nasty orange soda, can be pronounced by this California girl in such a way that the salesman is clueless on that one too. And this is why I spend 1 1/2 hours two nights a week in German class. To survive.
Always an adventure.
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