Emily is in Denmark

Contrary to the title of this blog, I am not in England, I am in Denmark. Copenhagen to be exact (which my host says is pronounced "koo-ben-houn"). Ariel and I are staying at our third place in koobenhoun. We had a hostel which was weird and located out in no-where-land so we re-located to a couchsurfing dudes place and are in another couchsurfers house now. She has cats and is very nice and is taking us to a party to support a center for prostitutes and drug-addicts tomorrow night. I REALLY like this couch surfing thing.

Aaaaanyways...

In an attempt to atone for a lunchtime fling with a McDonalds chickenburger and fries, Ariel and I threw caution to the winds and each bought ourselves some super-Danish, open-face sandwiches called smørrebrød. A doesn´t eat red meat and so she went with a recognizable sammy with hardboiled eggs, lettuce, shrimp, and mayonaise. I,on the otherhand, coundn´t decide which sandwich appealed more and so I pointed vaguely and told the woman to go to her left and said yes. This, in vertical ascending order from the plate, is what was on my smørrebrød:

Scandinavian rye bread (which is bitter, oh so bitter)
Butter
A slab of beef that had been breaded and fried, but was now cold and soaked in
Some sort of brown gravy product
Cooked onions
Mustard
Pickles
Parsley
A round of canned pineapple

I ate it all, and it was weird.

I proudly told my host about my unabashed passion for local culture and how I ate such an ethnic sandwich. She told me that she had never heard of a smørrebrød of that type with that kind of stuff on it.

Sometimes you win, and sometimes you end up unintentionally imitating that dude that I always ended up sitting near in the dining hall who dumps his plate onto his tray, mixes it up and then eats it while loudly proclaiming that his weird melange of salad bar items and rasta pasta is tasty.