De Gustibus Est Disputandum

Some things, like coffee, are best left alone. Add cream or sugar, and you no longer have coffee. Or the potato chip. Add the “roasted chicken” or “prawn” flavorings as they do in England, and you may have committed a felony instead of enhancing a chip. (Hunt places blackberry cobbler in this category—thinking it is best eaten without vanilla ice cream—but I think this reveals his heathen tendencies.)

A Proper Pretzel

Call me a purist. I don't care. But it is simply wrong to fiddle with the pretzel.

The Salzburgers call the pretzel a Bretzl, and it has a crunchiness and chewiness not to be paralleled by its poor American counterpart. The origin of the shape is debatable, and some think it represents a monk in prayer or a child's folded arms. Salzburg bakeries offer the Bretzl in many sizes, some so large it must be held by two hands. A carbohydrate lover's delight.

All Pretzels Are Not Created Equal

But I am disturbed—nay, deeply disturbed—by the bastardizations spread before me here in the City of Music. Poppy Seed Pretzels. Pizza Pretzels. Chocolate Pretzels. Chocolate and Jam Pretzels. Donut Pretzels. Apple Pretzels. Chocolate and Nuts Pretzels. Cheese Pretzels.

So, so wrong. In their purest form, covered with salt crystals, they are perfection. Why would anyone want to fiddle with perfection?