Ontbijtkoek

This afternoon, at a certain Woolworths store in a certain shopping complex, I found one of my one true loves from my most recent (because I have been on so many) European adventure: http://ourlittlefamilyadventure.wordpress.com/2012/12/06/ontbijtkoek-dutch-breakfast-spice-cake/

There was a little Dutch section, right next to the tortillas and Old El Paso kits, in Woolworths. My day was made. Nay, my week was made. Many thanks to Little Mishelle for informing me of its presence.

For those who have not had the pleasure of sinking their teeth into the dense, dark mysteries of this breakfast treat (its existence simply reaffirming my belief that breakfast is the best meal of the day), get your ass to your closest Woolworths (assuming every Perth Woolworths has its own Dutch section).

And if you have had the great pleasure I have described above, I am sure your ass is already halfway to your closest Woolworths.

But back to those unacquainted. Ontbijtkoek is essentially a really dark gingerbread made of rye flour. It's not very sweet and really is more of a bread than a cake, traditionally eaten with butter. As a great lover of all things gingerbread, its density and spiciness is a revelation.

It's a good thing I found and bought said Dutch breakfast cake because my day would have otherwise been slightly miserable (although hacking into Little Mishelle's locks always gives me great joy. I also scored myself a $1.99 bag of mega mushrooms and a $1.99 mango). Specifically because I saw Zeter Febbs on the bus to Little Mishelle's house. I saw him before he saw me (assuming he saw me at all). There he was, jumping onboard, dressed in his shitty sports' team polo t-shirt and some sort of matching cap. I have no patience for these sports enthusiast antics.

What is wrong with me? How could I ever think we were even slightly compatible? A SPORTS' TEAM POLO T-SHIRT. AND MATCHING CAP.

Anyway, I purposefully stared outside my window, pretending to be absolutely captivated by the beautiful passing scenery... And he sat in the special section at the front, reserved for pregnant ladies and old people. Probably because he saw me and thought to himself, "Hale no, if I initiate contact she will probably start drooling all over my sports' team polo t-shirt and possibly my matching cap."

Smart move, Zeter. I was indeed resisting the urge to drool on/rip that sports' team polo t-shirt off you and run my hands all over your pasty white, concave chest. Smart move, indeed. He was always strategically oriented.

Maybe one day I will move past all of this. To be honest, I'm probably 80% there. I laugh about it pretty much any time it is brought up these days (which is rarely unless by me because I'm an attention seeking little whore). That being said, it is my reaction to laugh at anything even slightly uncomfortable. Case in point, the Pyramides metro station in Rome.

No further comment. Go about your business.

J