Hey Chlohemian readers. Especially since the recent move to Denmark and the adjustment period and job hunt that comes along with that, I don’t have as much time as I’d like to write blog posts anymore. This makes me sad, not just for the people who like my writing but because I really enjoy sharing my travel adventures!
So I think I’ve found a compromise: I’ll write shorter posts more often. For now, that will mean short funny anecdotes about my experiences living in Czech Republic and Denmark (and I’ve got a lot of ’em stored up) that wouldn’t fit into other posts. I think this will encourage me to keep it up and I actually think it’s the blog I want to be writing right now.
Without further ado…
Yesterday, I visited a wonderful, hyggelig (cozy! gotta get into the Danish autumn spirit!) cafe in the center of Odense. Considering how expensive life is in Denmark, I’m making more coffee and baking at home, and treating myself less often. (World’s tiniest violin.) But I was meeting a new friend, so I decided it was a special occasion. I asked the barista about their “Cake of the Day.”
“It’s a peanut butter cake.”
“Really? Is it good?”
“Yeah. It’s new, it’s a bit heavy, but I like it.”
“Cool. I’m American, so that actually means I’m legally obligated to love peanut butter and eat it at every possible chance.”
“Yeah, actually as soon as you can write, that’s like at 6/7 years old, they sit you down to sign a contract that says that peanut butter is a definitive American food and you can never say anything bad about it in public.”
“Is that really true?”
Guys, it was a great piece of cake. I would have taken a picture, but the candlelit cafe was so romantic that I just shared that moment with my delicious, expensive pastry instead… before I ate every last bit.