weird folk all around

am I talking about the Brits among whom I have now lived for well over a quarter century? Not exactly. Unless you take the reason behind my point as given: My mid-range local super market keeps running out of decent Frankfurters regularly now (Hello Brexit). Instead – shh – they feed us what the Polish don’t want to eat and therefore – export. It must be that.

I know, I shouldn’t be saying this – someone will role their eyes and mutter: The Germans…!

It is true though, I even gave an Englishman advice when I saw him hesitating before the shelf with those Polish sausages – I wouldn’t eat that brand, sir. I once got a refund, having tried one… Could not help myself.

Today I bought the third type (after an intermezzo with quite decent ones), and find – even the kabanossi are not what I have a stomach for. I didn’t think you could do anything much wrong with kabanossi – but you can, not enough smoke, not enough paprika and Janosh is your cousin.

Now I stop complaining, will dowse those excuses for bad taste in paprike and garlic and microwave them to within an inch of their life. And once I am through with that pack, I shall take my shopping bag and patronise Walmart’s poor relative in town – I am hearing (shh) they still sell German Frankfurters.

Guten Appetit. And while I am at it, I get some Gin to wash down the unpleasant after-taste of what suddenly feels like living with the poor cousin in the west.*

  • when I grew up in Germany Poland was not in the EU. So the (unfortunate?) brothers and sisters in the GDR aside, Germany had a border with the poor cousin in the East.

~ by Barbara S on November 21, 2022.

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