Of course, I'm talking about food. I'm sure that you all knew that.
I thank the Scandinavian folk who brought pastries to the United States with all of my heart. And, from the bottom of my stomach.
There is a little bakery, just a mile or so away from us, that serves the most delish Danish pastries that I've ever eaten. It's appropriately named, The Danish Bakery.
From the outside, it doesn't look like much of a place. You know, just a regular square, white building with red trim and nothing fancy. But, once you enter through the door, you have sensory overload. The smell of freshly baked bread wafting through the room greets you. The glass display shelves, filled with every type of mouth-watering morsel you could ever dream of, are there for your eyes to devour. The touch of the flaky pastry and sugary topping. The sound of crunchy, toasted almonds in your mouth. Then, there is the taste. Oh... the taste. The sweet, delicate pastry melting in your mouth and the rich, creamy tartness of the fruit. (pardon me, I think I just drooled on the keyboard).
One of these days I am going to learn the secret of making these Danish pieces of perfection. And, when that happens, I'll probably never be able to button my pants again.