7/26, no. 2 (pt. 2)

a vital component of every vacation: the culinary aspect.

upon arrival, we drove to a very cute, very small town called Jena. we walked around with little to no knowledge of the area, only that there was a small Carl Zeiss museum around somewhere (dad's a fan).

that said, we knew even less about the surrounding eateries. we walked down a street that included all of my favorite personal aesthetics (cobblestone ground, small

boutique shops, old vines around the wall, emanating an overall very organic and

almost archaic yet modern theme). so it was fitting for my whole family and I to agree on this endearing open-air restaurant (pictured). and the food was not at all quin

tessential German cuisine! instead they had pan

s of food - literally served in the pan in which it was cooked - with random but great ingredients and ideas like pears, spinach, burgundy, feta cheese, breads, etc (not all together at once, though) - all with a bottle of pellegrino on the side.

the ambiance was really great, and it seemed like mainly students and younger people ate her to talk and socialize. there was the occasional starbucks dude with the laptop and coffee, but for the most part it seemed like students from the university came here. as I people-watched, it made me legitimately wish I could live a life like theirs...of course, it was all under the premise that their lives were care-free and stereotypically young and European, with cigarettes and champagne during the after-hours of the city, spraying graffiti in hopes of sending an old

marxist message from pre-war Europe, etc...their lives could have and probably were vastly different than what I conjured of them, but nevertheless, it made me dream. and I miss the feeling of dreaming, of hoping and wishing for something bigger in life, because it was then that I suddenly felt as if blood was rushed through under my skin and

I had awakened from a state of numbness and idleness.

the next day, we ate at the cafe at Der Glaserne Manufaktur (the "transparent factory" aka the Volkswagen factory). this was more upscale German food compared to what we had later on. I'm not a big aficionado when it comes to sausage so I opted for a potato soup (with sausage, I couldn't avoid that, so I shared). and there were fries and dense, dense sauce with the pork, and my brother got a burger that was virtually no different than those served here in the states. so it made me think: why does America get so much criticism for its 'unhealthy ways' when the traditional food in some areas of Europe are just as unhealthy? now, mind you, I'm the last to jump on the patriotic bandwagon, but this notion nevertheless incepted throughout my head. maybe, I thought, just maybe...it's a result of self-criticism generated by the idea that European ways are above that of the US, perhaps? and maybe tha

t's because, Go

d forbid, maybe the general American public dreams?

perish the thought, right? but still, the notion lingered.

in Europe, it's written law to serve beverages in their resp

ective brand name glass. for example, a bottle of Pilsner Urquell must be served in a tall glass cup with the embossment "Pilsner Urquell." I like this. and it's not a legality restricted to only nicer restaurants - anywhere and everywhere you can be guaranteed service with a liquid in a cup with its name. something about this neatness, organization, constancy, parallels, correspondence, and maybe even the commitment..it's really refreshing in a time where everything else seems chaotic. I'm not neat/organized/constant at all, so I guess it's just a nice subtle little cultural difference.

generally speaking, I hate breakfast. I hate eggs, I don't like sausage (ergo, no bacon), and there seems to always be something wrong with toast at 8 in the morning. essentially, I find nothing appetizing during the early hours of the day.

or so seemed to be the case pre-trip. pictured to the right is a photo of the basement breakfast area for the Hotel Waldstein, our great little Czech abode during our stay in Prague. the breakfast area was so archaic and adorable, and I was told that it was used as a wine cellar centuries ago.

the breakfast options at every hotel and every restaurant and every home we stayed at were always amazing and consistently maintained an immense amount of appeal even at 6, 7, 8, and 9 am. countless various types of breads (poppyseed, whole wheat, white, rye, pumpernickel, etc) lay out in cloths in baskets, with an equally diverse platter of butters and cheeses. healthy, ain't it? not to worry, there were also so many incredible foods like various yogurts, granolas, cereals, fruits, cucumber and tomato salads, plenty of different juices, arguably the most delicious coffee I've ever had (in Dresden, not Prague..had to make that disclaimer!), different-styled eggs and sausages (a blessing for the brothers, not me), all sorts of great European spreads (like apricot, which I love with some brie toasted on rye) and always availability of that faithful nutella.

unhealthy? maybe. delicious? always. while, eating, I would think and desire to live in a home that shared a similar theme and style, archaic, organic, homely, small, cute...and then I worried that I might get too easily habituated and consequently sick of such a style. is it true that all paradise is paradise lost, and any more is just over-indulgence and decadence? it's like in n out, sort of, or anything else that's great...you're always going to want it, you crave it so often, it almost always sounds good, but would you want to eat it three times a day everyday? no. and this parallel notion applied to my future home and other ideas really scare me, even though it's all very superficial and unnecessary. oh well, a girl can dream (always a blessing to have the ability to do so).