Waaay better than raindrops on roses, or whiskers on kittens, today I treated myself to one of my favourite things.
Bratwurst from the Queen Victoria Market.
I spent a couple of hours at the Vic Market this afternoon shopping for ingredients for the Blogathon. I have two very strict rules when I go to the Vic Markets: I have to buy something I have never cooked before, and I have to eat a bratwurst.
The Bratwurst shop can be found in the deli section of the market. You can choose between spicy, mild or weisswurst sausages. In the seven years I have been performing this ritual, I still can’t decide which one I like best.
These piping hot tubes of 100% unadulterated Deutschland are nestled into fresh, soft bread rolls, with whatever combination of onion, mustard, sauerkraut, sauces and cheese you might like. I always go with seeded mustard, onions, and sauerkraut. And cheese if I manage to avoid thinking about my hips or my wedding dress.
The best thing about the Bratwurst sausages is the way the skin makes an audible crack when you bite into them. And the way they are kind of messy to eat, which makes them even more fun, because we all enjoy food more when it’s messy to eat, even if we don’t admit it. And how they always make me think of the Von Trapp family, busty Oktoberfest beer wenches, and pretzels as big as the Reichstag.
But then, sausages often have a strange effect on people.