Brian K.
Yelp
My wife, a veggie loving, pork and beef avoiding epicurean, glanced at the menu and with almost prophetic warning, muttered, " I'm in a German-centric restaurant. I should order something German."
Alas, if only she had listened.
After I ordered the Country Benedict, which consisted of slabs of German Breakfast Sausage on buttermilk biscuits, topped with poached eggs and cream gravy, served next to hashbrowns, my wife ordered a veggies omelet. Service was quick, friendly, and competent and a few minutes later I was almost in Southern heaven. If only there had been some bacon on that plate.
My wife, on the other hand, stared down at a slab of extremely overcooked omelet, covered with enough cheddar cheese to have participated in the previous day's Wine & Cheese Festival, and took a bite. A few minutes later, as she watched me scarfing down my fatty goodness. she conceeded one point.
"The biscuits are good," she said politely. I'd struck out the previous morning too on breakfast restaurant suggestions, and as I paid our bill I spotted... an eclair.
But not ANY eclair! Not some sissy French pastry delicately sitting on a doily, oozing lightly sweetened whipping cream. Oh no, mein herr! This was a GERMAN eclair! A blitz! Covered in dark chocolate, stuffed with Bavarian Cream and the size of Volkswagen! My mouth watered. My blood sugar rose just from looking at it! I turned away and even LEFT, driving all the way back to the hotel. But no! I couldn't resist! I drove back, purchased the monstrosity and despite a full stomach, took it with me as my wife and I began the day's adventures until it was time.
Time to blow my upcoming A1C test to smithereens.
I had to use a knife because a jackhammer wasn't available. I broke off a piece, nervously glancing at my wife who sighed at the inevitable. Then... Bavarian cream exploded in my mouth. Chewy biscuit. Dark hard chocolate and...
"Too sweet," I managed to gasp. I winced. "
Whoa " I said, feeling both betrayed and relieved.
"Well?" My wife asked. I shook my head.
"I'm not used to that level of sweetness," I admitted. "The biscuit is too thick and chewy, then you get the smash of Bavarian cream and the hit of dark chocolate. I feel..."
My wife's look of concern was immediate. "Insulin shock? Hyperglycemia?"
I shook my head. "Like I've been blitzed." I wrapped up the now slightly less than two pound confectionery. "You know, maybe the Americans do this better. Boston cream, chocolate frosting, nice donut..."
"Eww, a Long John?" My wife demanded. I shrugged.
It's not for everyone. But it is for me. I'm the Gourmet Goob.