Ever heard the following song:
“there aint no, aint no, aint no snack no like a bröödli!
no there aint no, aint no, aint no snack no like a bröödli!
no there aint no, aint no, aint no snack,
you could bring me a pizza,
I’d say take it back,
because there aint no, aint no, aint no snack no like a bröödli!”
I hadn’t heard it either — until I personally invented it. But despite its rather major issues and flaws, I find myself repeatedly chirping away this little ditty whenever I’m close to Rostock’s city centre, wth the bizarrely expectant satisfied grin of a child that is feeling cheeky (or broken wind in most cases)..
Now you may well be wondering what a “bröödli” is; it was this very same pondering, matched by a dash of hunger, that lured me into finding out. But the story runs deeper still…
The thing is, I was the kind of child that was obsessed with sandwiches and all the glorious (and to some disgusting) combinations of things that could be packed within them: my former absolute favourite, the simple and perfectly pure and simple ketchup sandwich (one piece of bread, coated (but not plastered) with butter or margarine, filled with ketchup to the point that it made a mess of the floor and my cloathing, followed by devouringness; other favourites included baked bean sandwiches, sausage and egg sandwiches, and the list goes on and on and on — I even tried ice-cream in a sandwich once when I was 8, but it didn’t quite reach top-ten status to say the least. SO, as the great sandwich fan, I was overjoyed to find a wonderful “Fladenbrot mit Schafskäse” (BIG pitta bread filled with goats cheese, spicy peppers, and “Weisskrautsalat” (a special german white cabbage salad)) at the christmas market. I had always been remarkably sad that the xmas season seemed to end my “fladenbrot” snack season, respectively, and was therefore overjoyed at seeing a sign for one available 12 months a year at the “Imbiss Kropi No.2”! (roughly translates to snack bar at no.2 Kröpeliner Street, which is at the Neuer Markt end of the main street).
Having fulfilled my Fladenbrot needs, I noticed the Hackbröödli for the first time. It was cheap (€2.20 — cheaper than most baguettes or sandwiches at the local backeries), it looked interesting (you can connotate that any way you’d like), and most significantly, it was a stuffed sandwich (mmmmmmmmmmm!)
And that is essentially the joy of a Hackbröödli: it is beautiful, it is delicious, it is scrumptious simplicity. It is a bread roll stuffed to the brim with flavoured minced meat (so far I’ve tried both the standard and curry variations), and packed with an extra piece of bread in the middle — the thing is simply the kind of tasty sandwich bomb that I think a good life is, to a worrying extent perhaps, all about.
I’ll say no more aside from the following: if you are in Rostock and fancy a quick, satisfying, innovative snack, go to Imbiss no.2 for a bröödli — you won’t regret it, you can at least say you’ve tried it, and you may well hear me nearby — humming away my ditty as well as my stuffed mouth will allow me.
Disclosure: I swear that no free bröödli’s or food were offered to me for this glowing endorsement in order to write this blog 😉