Panchito‘s Diary

I got a menu on accident.

Salad, with a vinaigrette, more sweet than sour, the mint on it was nice.

Flatbread baked on a tandoor, crispy bottom, soft top.

Bulgur with tomato paste and eggplant, fermented on accident I suppose.

A serving of baked veggies with the jewel of the crown.

A baked chicken breast.

That tasted like nothing.

I could taste the herbs. I could see the colors.

But my tongue got nothing about this sadly once living being. 

I felt bad. very. very very. very very very bad.

I do a prayer before eating animal products. “Im so sorry for ur suffering and very thankful for ur life”

Then most of the times, this meat tastes like death, iron, smoke, putrid grains, old broccoli, aged nuts, bile, dry skin, etc.

But this time there was nothing. No form, no bones, no taste, no soul.

why? because I ate in Germany, I look around me at this “nice” looking place and see posh old people and a couple young posh families.

In this country you order with numbers. “ill have the number 23” someone will say, totally ignoring the name, language, heritage and culture of the food. What about trying to pronounce the name of the fucking plate that u are gonna fucking eat, huh?

Why should I expect something different? here people eat like babies, they like no bones on their meat, their potatoes very soft and their sauces creamy and without chunks.

Thats problematic. they not only ignore the culture behind it, the hands behind it, but also the reality behind it.

They go to eat to fancy looking restaurants because international food must be a luxury, not noticing half of us, are eating like that every day.

Everything but to cook and kill for urself, let me remind u somethings.

Potatos are not German my friend.

A filet is a small part of the whole animal that our greed killed. There is only one piece of that.

Ur portion is too big, and no, the life of an animal measured in grams is not that expensive u piece of shit.

why do u expect people and animals to be as miserable as u are, when u eat ur bread slice with milk cheese and meat cheese on top.

U dont see food as fuel, nor pleasure, nor exchange. U see it as a product.

because u became one.

There is no flavour here because for people to notice it, they need taste, something that germans forgot a long time ago in exchange of cheap food.

Food here has no soul. No bones. No morals. No love. Only a price.