It was a sunny day in Munich, Germany. Not too hot, not too cold. After a lovely tour of the city, everyone was told to eat. The speed with which the group departed was to be expected: after fourteen hours on a plane we were desperate for food.
I followed a pair of my friends through the city. Earlier, our tour guide had pointed out a small restaurant that served falafel sandwiches, which my friends were determined to eat at. I was slightly less enthused, but for no discernible reason except perhaps that I had spotted some sushi earlier and had been craving the delightful fishy food for a week (a craving that I would have to wait another two weeks to fulfill). Regardless, I have never been gladder to have gone with the popular decision.
The restaurant was located just past a charming plaza full of places to grab food or drinks. The plaza was a pedestrian area and had a series of small streets that lead to busier streets that had a larger automobile population. It was on one of these small streets that the restaurant was located. The restaurant was small, with just a couple tables inside and out, and a counter for ordering food. The counter had all the different sandwich ingredients displayed.
We ordered our sandwiches—I ended up being so overwhelmed with all the options that I got everything on mine—and then sat at one of the two tables outside with our food. The sandwiches ended up being very large. As in, my sandwich was the size of my head. I did have some difficulty getting it into my mouth, but the struggle was more than worth it. The moment we sat down at the table, we were completely silent (it should be noted that this was a rare thing for this group of people).
The sandwich was incredible, simply divine, and certainly the best thing I have eaten to date. I may have shed a tear of joy while eating it. The moment we finished eating, all we could talk about was how good it had been. Then, the conversation moved to an argument: whether or not I should eat a second falafel sandwich. Ultimately, my friends peer pressure succeeded, though not for their doubt of my ability to fit another sandwich in my stomach. I did not want to make my friends watch me eat a second sandwich when there were palaces to see. However, after the palaces had been seen we did end up spending an hour sitting on a bench, sans-sandwich, so I would caution any readers into giving into peer pressure lest it deprive you of an incredible sandwich.
The sandwich was incredible. This was two years ago, and I still think about it on a regular basis. Whenever I bring it up to my friends, they still tease me about it. In fact, the sandwich was a major bonding point, as in the beginning of this trip it would have been more appropriate to classify them as “acquaintances” and not the “friends” that I would consider them now (regardless of their depriving me of a sandwich).
From now on, I will be booking a healthy layover in Munich, and feast on not one, but two falafel sandwiches.
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