Food at the Binz (Part 2 in a Series)
There they were, just chilling on my potatoes, like everything was normal. Sure, they looked and smelled like pine needles. I knew they couldn’t be though - that would be too exotic and expensive. Investigation proved that they were Rosemary. On potatoes. “It’s supposed to go on meat,” I wanted to scream, but restrained myself, sullenly scraping the offending weirdness from my otherwise normal dish. “I suppose this isn’t bad enough to count for part 2,” I muttered under my breath as I looked around for something with which to cleanse my mouth. That’s great: offending food that’s just bad enough to make a boring story. I shoved the spuds aside and made myself a white bread and American cheese sandwhich. Yum, processed goodness.
Unwilling to only post the previous story, I knew the Binz would pull through and give me something to share. Sure enough, only days later, I got my wish. We occasionally are served bratwurst topped with white cheese and red saurce on a large hot-dog’ish bun. This is pretty tasty, one does not see much griping and/or whining over this offering. When it was served, however, I took the brat out and ate the remaining Italian goodness. This action struck me as strange: I’m not the type of person that goes around dissecting their food prior to consumption. This time, I must have had a premonition. While munching on the meat-free results of my handiwork, my eyes drifted from the paper to the meat. Uh oh. Human hair. Whoops. Not mine. Simply sitting there, with impunity, as if old grayish hairs always accompany German meat products. Surprisingly, I did not lose my appetite. I rationalized with myself, “It’s just a hair, you just don’t know who’s it is, where it has been, how it got there, or how many others you have eaten.” Failing to make myself feel better, I resumed eating and began to consider pre-meal rites of cleansing.