Crunchy Bottoms

Striking the caloric balance. Barely.

Tag Archives: beer

Brotzeit (Vivocity)

Brotzeit

As I’m punching out this post, I’m reminded and wrecked with guilt over the remaining 18 days of my Europe trip that happened about half a year ago that I have yet to write about. That will probably be done next year around this time if all goes well. And that’s me being optimistic.

Anyway, Frankfurt’s pork knuckles can wait (ETA 6 months from now). Brotzeit’s can’t.

It was with a fair bit of hesitation that I led the family into Brotzeit (pronounced broht-zye-eet), but I reasoned that since our last meal of wursts or brots or German-anything has been a good while ago, they wouldn’t turn green at the sight of potatoes anymore. And so they didn’t. But our Europe-seasoned habit of ordering three dishes for four to share remained even though I was ready to conquer the Schweinshaxe (Pork knuckle) all on my own when it eventually descended onto our table.

Pork Knuckle ($36)

This was one burnished crown of blisteringly, crackly, hunk-o-barbaric-looking, MEAT.

Just Meat in all its glory. Look at that. No, really, look at that. What higher power orchestrated such a perfect union of unctuous, smokey meat and golden, crisp skin? Read more of this post

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Europe Day 2 – Switzerland (Thun)

Breakfast!

The entire day before, I was silently anticipating breakfast the next morning, right from the moment Angela placed that very loaf of bread in the grocery cart and told me that was her favourite. I knew I would love it. Regardless, nothing beats the sweet smell of toasted bread in the morning – a rather frigid morning might I add, because all I’m really used to the moment I wake up is humidity a slight chill (that is if I am alive and kicking before 7am).

Hell-good bread. Industrial toaster.

I wandered into the kitchen naturally, and seeing the Weizenbrot Hell (which I thought was very aptly named because it was hell-good) all wrapped up in plastic and sitting demurely atop the kitchen counter, I knew I’d be making short work of the loaf in no time. So while Angela kindly brewed me some of her mighty espresso, I cut me up some slices and stared in wonderment at the…machine…next to the cutting board. Read more of this post