Our Own Little OctoberFest
It sounded like so much fun when I was 15 and living in Germany, going to a beer fest, drinking beer, sitting in the big fest tents and laughing and drinking and eating wursts and listening to the ooompah band. By the time I was 18 and graduating, I’d been to a fest or two, and was pretty much over it. I’d probably seen a fest or two and a beer or two too many. AdventureMan and I were trying to remember the last beer fest we had been do and we think it was the year we were married (LOL, a LONG time ago) with his military unit.
But . . . it must the the changing light. When I saw Wursts in the commissary, I bought a pack (we NEVER eat wursts, but . . . it’s October. Could not resist . . . )
I mixed up a very strong curry sauce, using the last of some Kashmiri curry I had brought back with me from Kuwait on my last trip, and we each savored our lone curry wursts with a brotchen. Our own little OctoberFest 😉
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