It rained the whole. entire. time. we were in Prague. And yet, I loved the place. Probably because of the marvel that is the Trdelnik (pronounced – tur del knee k ). This beauty was my lunch one day. I ordered it with Nutella (duh), and watched the nice Czech woman slice a hunk of sweet, crispy dough off of the stick upon which it had been roasting. She rolled it in sugar and cinnamon, then lathered the hollow inside with Nutella. I just stood there & I drooled. No one noticed, thanks to the rain.
I’m legitimately melting as I write this.
She handed the sacred trdelnik to me on a napkin. It felt deliciously warm in my frozen, wet hands. As the rain continued, I stare at my lunch in awe- how does one approach eating a trdelnik? So, like a barbarian, I pulled off a strip of the warm sugar textured dough, letting the silky nutella drip down my hands and wrist as I placed the piece in my mouth. As if I cared- I’d let the rain deal with the mess I made of myself.
Prage, Czech Republic