Tuesday, November 17, 2015
Today I am grateful for double brats. Not brats, like snotty-nosed little kids with bratty attitudes. I’m talking of the good ol’ German manna of my youth. . .bratwurst. No self-respecting local would call it bratwurst. They are brats. It’s what’s for dinner tonight!
The picture is from our favorite butter-spoon restaurant (Sheboyganites don’t consider butter greasy), therefore I did not use the term greasy-spoon. When you get your sandwich, blissfully charcoal grilled, with any accoutrements your little heart desires, it is wrapped in paper. Peeling it back and lifting the lid, just to check out that it hasn’t changed in the last 65 years, you will find the yellow, blobby, gorpy quarter-stick of butter melting like lava, running down the onions and pickles, onto the paper where you will lap it up with your finger. Hold the butter? No way. Not at this restaurant.
Yes, folks, I come by the hips honestly. It’s a really good thing I don’t have to look at that restaurant every day. . .but I’m still glad brats are what’s for dinner tonight.