A short culinary trip...

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The first two photos here are again of our beloved "good-bye, meat". We can see the enormous jugs of beer that my companions and I are "prost"-ing with. Each is 1L. of fermented delight and I can usually put back two of them before my arm gets too tired from lifting (and I am dead).
The second shows Stu and I comparing the lengths of our feuerwuerst, or "firesausage", sometimes called "teufelwuerst" or "devilsausage". Each is 1/2 metre long (seriously). Not to brag, but I am sure I could take more than a metre of devil sausage before succumbing to the pain.

We move on to Barcelona, where we were told that we had to try the city's specialty, patatas bravas. (brave potatoes? I don't speak Spanish. But that would be awesome. I picture a potato standing at the door of his parents' house, fully outfitted in military gear, his mother hugging him, crying, and saying, "Be safe." While his father, ever the stern authority, stands a few feet back and says "Don't come back until you are covered in a delicious spicy sauce.")

My reaction when they were first brought out to us was one of amused disbelief. They are homefries. Covered in a kind of spiced ketchup. But I tell you what: they are wonderful. I defy you to create a better orangy ketchup than that one.

Next is a photo I am not proud of. Yes, that is me eating a rabbit. Yes, that is me mocking the rabbit by doing an (well, pretty spot-on) impression of it. Moving on.

(Do you think that cannibals do that? Do you think that just before sitting down for supper, the wisecracker of the group does a little dance and says, "look at me, I am a fat white tourist" and everyone has a good laugh? Or do you think it is more subdued and respectful?)

Those are two buildings designed by Gaudi. They appear to be made of gingerbread.

The last is of paella, another Spanish specialty (a bit more involved than the patatas bravas) consisting of rice and usually seafood and some kinds of vegetables. Sometimes they add a kind of black paste to make everything, well, black (I couldn't figure out a higher purpose). It is quite tasty really, except when in the restaurant they decide to show a gory slasher film on the TVs while you are eating while chuckling and pointing at it, in case you hadn't noticed the young starlet squealing and being dismembered for your dinnertime enjoyment.

I can never eat paella again.

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Photos

This will be the last reputable photo of the night!
Germany, where the beers are measured in litres...

Lunch in Hell is quite nice, actually.
...and the sausages measured in metres.

Patatas Bravas
You can already see a glimmer of obsession beginning in my eyes.

Adding insult to death and cooking
Words cannot express my regret, small, delicious friend.

Architecture by Gaudi
I guess he was hungry when he was designing these.

Paella!!!!
Enjoy it while you can.