perhaps when you travel in Germany, you should have a German with you

I'm just saying.
Yesterday, after a nap, my colleague, who happens to be German, suggested we walk over to the old part of town. So we did. Luckily, I'm a pretty good walker - there's a lot of walking going on here.
We went to an old pub. A local place. Wonderful looking with regulars having their beer and late lunch.

I only speak English, but J speaks both.
We started with Hand Cheese (?) which was gooey and hard at the same time and smothered with pickled onions and eaten on buttered German bread.




This came with a big jug of apple wine which is only available at this time of year and was a little fizzy and WONDERFUL. You get a little bit of water too, to mix with it as you get more drunk.

But THEN I had a bratwurst on the bed of the best mashed potatoes in the world with sauerkraut with cloves and caraway seeds. To. Die. For.




I ate every bit of it. And, at home, I don't even like bratwurst.




Inside was mostly out of focus. It was a very big jug of wine!
Then, just as J was telling me that sometimes the Pretzel Man comes around places like this: there he was. He had a big basket of fresh pretzels.
I
cannot
even.

We finished the meal with two perfect glasses of Calvados, with two spicy tiny apples in them.

I'm not sure what I can eat that will be better.