By rlubitz
So, uhm, newsflash: London has a pretty fine street treat here that I would like to see directly exported to the United States.
Back in American cities there’s the hotdog and the pretzel and that’s pretty much it. There’s a huge level of shame that comes from standing out in the sun and staring at a cart for ten minutes and then going up and saying “Hot dog, please….and these chips…..how much is a soda? Okay. Yeah. Thanks.” It really shouldn’t be shameful at all, we all know it’s unhealthy but sometimes a honey needs some chips and a soda.
Here, however, there’s NO SHAME in street eating. There’s a bit of fun in it, really.
There’s plenty of little cafes around where you can get a pretty legitimately disgusting sandwich on the go. If you’re starving this city has your back at all times. In DC specifically, I can’t eat the wrap that I’m unhealthily obsessed with at ABP while walking to class. There’s sauce and dripping lettuce and I would look insane.
Here, again, however, these people know exactly what you want on your lunch break and that is….the sausage roll.
The word makes me slightly uncomfortable but it’s so good that I don’t care.
It’s like a demure hotdog, a lady before burlesque, a shy wiener wrapped in dough.
It’s so poetic it brings tears to my eyes but that’s also because it’s usually two million degrees and I can’t wait to eat food when it is already in front of my face.
Sausage rolls are the way of the future. A benefit of their consumption is you feel like you’re in a Charles Dickens novel, playing the little boy who has to get his tongue removed after severe burns from scalding sausage roll.
I’d like to personally draft a proposal to CVS or some sort of low-ranking food place asking for their importation and that’s mostly so I can write a report with the title: “Sausage Rolls: The Way Of The Future.”
Another completely unrelated London custom of sorts that I’d like to see in the US is dogs without leashes. This would take years for everyone to become comfortable with but for me, a person with a very excited six-year-old girl living inside of her, dogs without leashes is the best thing.
In terms of safety it’s absolutely horrible. But in terms of cuteness, it’s like all these dogs are roaming the streets like heading to work or leaving work to mess around with their mistress’ on their lunch break. I’ve been watching too much Mad Men but I think you understand.
Also: dog sweaters. Very big here. They should get bigger by coming to the United States in droves. It’s only what’s best for the country.
I’ve got a month or so left in London and my physical and mental breakdown has commenced. It’s an exciting time in that I have absolutely no idea what time it is anymore literally ever but it’s also making me melancholy and a horrible person.
Really I don’t want any British customs to come to the US because then they would lose their quaintness and loveliness and darlingness and that just can’t happen. I want to only consume massive amounts of croissants while I’m here and not see one in the US because I’m afraid I might combust into tears. I also know that I can’t drink tea in the US because it won’t be nearly as delicious and served with an itty-bitty pot of milk. Things are just better here. Sure, it gets dark at 5 pm and it rains kind of all the time but the way my bff barista pronounces ‘sweetie’ completely incorrectly warms the entirety of my heart.
I’ve got six papers to write in less than a month and I can’t stop eating stress-eating sausage rolls but I really wouldn’t have it any other way.