You say pretzel, I say salty stick

All over Krakow, there are little stands selling round, soft looking bread products. Almost like bagels but stretched out. You have a choice between sesame, poppy, or salt covered. The salespeople set up first thing in the morning and in general stay open all day, although we learned quickly trying to order one in a restaurant, that they are thought of primarily as a breakfast food. We also learned that these round bready wonders are called pretzels in spite of their untwisted nature.

Inspired by their ubiquity, I had to try one, so I chose a good looking stand in the Rynek Glowny and selected the pretzel that looked the softest and chewiest.



I tried (and failed) to say thank you. It was another three days into our time in Poland that we learned to pronounce it correctly (jen-cooo-ya)...


I ran over to Daniel to share the wealth...


Bit in...


And forcing myself to swallow the stale, hard sesame covered cardboard, promptly...


It wasn't until our last day in Poland that I dared to try another pretzel. This one was delicious, and I live in regret that I so easily abandoned what could have been many happy pretzel filled days.

A quick side note. On one of our last days in Krakow, I got a migraine that led to some severe nausea. When I'd recovered enough to eat anything, I asked Daniel for something salty and crunchy. Being the wonderful provider that he is, he went down to the restaurant in our hotel and asked for pretzels. The waiter frowned, and said apologetically, "We don't have any pretzels, but we do have salty sticks." He returned with a cup of something like these...


They were exactly what I needed, and I will always have cozy memories of being warm in my Krakow bed with a cup of salty sticks and some water with gas.