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Discovered a cool little bakery in Frankfurt the other day.

It’s in one of those streets that’s a compressed village – restaurants, butcher, baker, art galleries, clothes shops, VINYL RECORD STORE (YES!), florist, green grocer.

And didn’t the bread look yummy.

“What’s that loaf?” asks Mrs jb

“Oh, that’s got something and something and something and apple sauce” says the girl.

“I’ll have one” says Mrs jb.

“But without the apple sauce, please” I venture.

I got a look as if I was trying to explain quantum mechanics by farting musically.

“Das geht nicht” she says.

The look reminded me of the mindless gaze of a Jersey heifer.

All she’d needed to do was chew the cud and the picture would have been perfect.

“Just ignore him” sez Mrs jb “Could I perhaps have just half a loaf?”

“Das geht nicht” she says. (Has she got a stutter. or what….?)

“Yeah, that’s because the apple sauce would run out. Obvious” I said.

That look again.

I could have sworn she went “Mooooo”

But you’re right.

I have to stop doing this.

I’ll have the RSPCA on me if I’m not careful…..