The ritual of the week end
There is something I love in Germany. Fresh brötchen. They have dozens sorts of those little pieces of breads. Brown, White, with corns, cereals, without.. Nowhere else in the world do you get such a range of individual breads at every corners of the streets.
Saturday or Sunday morning. You wake up from a short or (more scarcely) long and nice night. You're still a little sleepy, you're still half in your dreams. befor you do anything else, you put on pants and a pulli on top of your pyjamas. You go out to the next bakery. There you choose your belove brötchen, among the incredible and extensive range in front of you. You pay, go back home, put off your pants and pulli. Back to pyjamas.
And there you enjoy on your terrace (if possible!) your breakfast with your delicious out of the hoven brötchen. Maybe with some jam, maybe with butter, honey? Or even jam, cheese? that is up to you. But whatever your taste, this is heavenly anyway.
What a better way to start a day?
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