A small breakfast inspection: The kleptomaniac salami situation of the Germans.

A small breakfast inspection: The kleptomaniac salami situation of the Germans. What else did I have to read about scandal stories in the press? We Germans suffer at breakfast time under unrestrained coffee consumption and speak almost compulsively Italian sausage products. Soso.

Without being too close to you: But have you ever had a whole pot of coffee for breakfast? All alone? We are not talking about an extended, hour long weekend brunch. But from a relatively short breakfast at 7:30 with a full liter of hot, black filter coffee. And after you have (only assumed) then drunk this whole pot of coffee full of greed to the last drop, then you would eventually come over a strong, uncontrollable desire for salami? No? Rather not? Hm. Then we have to bravely face the fact that you obviously do not belong to the typical Germans.

Because if you want to believe the recent report in a Hamburg newspaper, develop German to spend the night outside your own four walls, in the morning an almost eerie desire for coffee and salami. Hotel employees all agree that the majority of the guests are very sustainable on a whole pot of coffee and expresses this desire for distress also linguistically clear. But it gets even better: After these people have mobbed so the battered hotel employees for coffee, they sneaking then inconspicuously whistling to the buffet. There you stuff yourself with distorted faces and narrowed eyes kilos of salami chips and slices in suit bags and laptop cases. Nobody knows what happens to the salami later. Is she eaten? Is she fed? Is she secretly hiding in the roll case of the unpopular head of department, so that the sniffer dogs at the airport strike in any case? You do not know.

But I would like to assure you sincerely that I can not make more than two cups before 8 o'clock in the morning and have never stolen salami from the hotel buffet. Every now and then, I borrow one of those tightly welded little cute cups with a nut nougat spread. Really - very rare. Unfortunately, I never get to actually eat the brown spread. Most of the small bombs survived the flight or train ride just undamaged in my purse. There I will find you again a week later, when my front door key pierced the aluminum cover professionally and the cream has just spread mortar equal in the speaker of my smartphone. Damn it. Maybe I'm just going to upgrade to salami soon.

And what are you taking with you from the buffet?

Mel.