I've had a request from the glw.

[Burney]

I went to easter Sunday mass in Salzburg a couple of years ago. I must say, the German language is surprisingly well suited to the liturgy. It was rather a moving ceremony.

Then I went and gorged myself on the Stelze

You know what's not OK? Eisbein. Why would they turn what could have been a perfectly good Schweinhaxe into a gelatinous, fatty mess? Dirty Berlin bástards.

[Sir C]

You know what's not OK? Eisbein. Why would they turn what could have been a perfectly good Schweinhaxe into a gelatinous, fatty mess? Dirty Berlin bástards.

I had it once in a bar in Hamburg; it was late and I'd been driving all day and I was starving. They gave me this knuckle on a wooden platter with a sharp knife, a pot of mustard and a basket of rye bread, and I confess, my memory is of a magical experience.

I may just have been hungry, though.

I believe that on that same trip I was served rare fillet of hare for breakfast. Dirty German bástards.

[Burney]

I had it once in a bar in Hamburg; it was late and I'd been driving all day and I was starving. They gave me this knuckle on a wooden platter with a sharp knife, a pot of mustard and a basket of rye bread, and I confess, my memory is of a magical experience.

I may just have been hungry, though.

I believe that on that same trip I was served rare fillet of hare for breakfast. Dirty German bástards.

I suppose if one could just essentially turn it into a series of ham sandwiches it would be OK. When I had it I was in Hannover and with a German who insisted I have it. It was served with sauerkraut, boiled potatoes, mustard and something a bit like mushy peas. I picked at it politely, but watching this fúcker forking huge lumps of wobbly fat into his maw with every sign of lip-smacking enjoyment made me gag.