stimulating the economy, one kanelgifler at a time
When we first arrived in Copenhagen, we brought the plague with us. OK, it wasn’t the plague but it was a nasty headcold … consequently, nothing tasted nice - actually nothing tasted of anything. Combined with my usual “I’m in a foreign country” culture shock* and the subsequent horror of trying to do a supermarket shop and decipher all the Danish labels, our food supplies were fairly limited and bland for a while.
Then I discovered kanelgifler. They are small cinnamon scrolls, and I can’t actually explain what makes them so appealing … they are yummy, but small, so there’s less guilt - and they aren’t actually cake, precisely, so they’re *almost* healthy (*AHEM*). And at 12DKK a packet (about the equivalent of $AU3), they are not as frighteningly expensive as most groceries are, compared to Australian prices.
But THEN last week, they were 2 packets for 20DKK so of course I had to buy TWO packets. When we finished the last one this morning I thought, that’s it! Time to get healthy, no more kanelgiflers. Only to find them at the supermarket, THREE packets for 25DKK … I resisted! …. all the way to the freezer section, then I went back and got three packets. Of course.
But as soon as these ones are gone, NO MORE!! Time to get healthy! My aim this week is to ride to play group … it’s about 4km away, and the furtherest ride I’ve done with the big bike, so we’ll see how that goes.
I am surprised to find that I actually enjoy riding … it’s nice to feel like it’s acceptable to ride a bike just to get around, rather than being a serious cycler. I don’t think many people do that back home. (Of course, as I’ve mentioned, we don’t really have the infrastructure for it either).
* The first time we went to Paris, fresh off the train, I was appallingly horrified to discover that THEY ALL SPOKE FRENCH. (I know, I know). I mean, what’s wrong with English, doesn’t EVERYONE speak it? Thus began my enlightenment that I am one of those travelers … insisting on speaking my own language, insisting on eating ‘normal’ food, and announcing belligerently “that’s not how we do it back home!”. It’s not that I don’t want to experience other cultures, it just takes my brain a while to catch up. I’m getting there. Gradually.