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Stevo985

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On pancakes (true story, this):

There's a pancake house in Arcen (outskirts of Venlo) called De Bosrand (sure I've mentioned it previously) that does - no word of a lie - the greatest pancakes I have ever eaten.

Anyway, up until a few years back my Uncle and Aunt were still living out in Rheindahlen. My Uncle worked for the RAF in telecommunications and was offered the same job as a civvy when he came to the end of his service, so he got to stay out there with his family for a few years. This great for us, as we could regularly holiday back to the area we used to live on the cheap, and everytime we did we'd make sure to include a visit to De Bosrand into any day trips to Venlo (for those unfamiliar with the geography of the area, Venlo is only about a 40 minute drive across the border from Rheindahlen).

The last time we went there (must have been a good 3 years or so now), my Aunt asked the waiter if she could have lemon juice on her pancake. I'm presuming that this is very much a British thing, as of all the various sweet and savoury options on the menu this was not one of them. The waiter did confirm that - though a lot of the Brits that pop in do tend to ask for the lemon juice/sugar combo - it's never something they've really done, but he did have an alternative. This is near enough exactly what he said:

"No, we don't haf any leamonsch; what we do haf, we haf this shpeshul fruut over here, itsch much schmaller then a leamon but itsch very schtrong - like a shtrong leamon - and if you like, we can bring one for you to squeesh."

So my Aunt takes him up on this offer, and we spend the next 10 minutes debating what the hell this strange, seemingly exotic fruit could be. Rare Dutch produce perhaps? Something we'd never seen before? We were very eager to find out what this mystery fruit was.

It was a lime.

He brought over a lime wedge, in a ramekin.

He had such wonderment on his face as well, as if he'd just unveiled the Turin Shroud on our table.

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On pancakes (true story, this):

There's a pancake house in Arcen (outskirts of Venlo) called De Bosrand (sure I've mentioned it previously) that does - no word of a lie - the greatest pancakes I have ever eaten.

Anyway, up until a few years back my Uncle and Aunt were still living out in Rheindahlen. My Uncle worked for the RAF in telecommunications and was offered the same job as a civvy when he came to the end of his service, so he got to stay out there with his family for a few years. This great for us, as we could regularly holiday back to the area we used to live on the cheap, and everytime we did we'd make sure to include a visit to De Bosrand into any day trips to Venlo (for those unfamiliar with the geography of the area, Venlo is only about a 40 minute drive across the border from Rheindahlen).

The last time we went there (must have been a good 3 years or so now), my Aunt asked the waiter if she could have lemon juice on her pancake. I'm presuming that this is very much a British thing, as of all the various sweet and savoury options on the menu this was not one of them. The waiter did confirm that - though a lot of the Brits that pop in do tend to ask for the lemon juice/sugar combo - it's never something they've really done, but he did have an alternative. This is near enough exactly what he said:

"No, we don't haf any leamonsch; what we do haf, we haf this shpeshul fruut over here, itsch much schmaller then a leamon but itsch very schtrong - like a shtrong leamon - and if you like, we can bring one for you to squeesh."

So my Aunt takes him up on this offer, and we spend the next 10 minutes debating what the hell this strange, seemingly exotic fruit could be. Rare Dutch produce perhaps? Something we'd never seen before? We were very eager to find out what this mystery fruit was.

It was a lime.

He brought over a lime wedge, in a ramekin.

He had such wonderment on his face as well, as if he'd just unveiled the Turin Shroud on our table.

...

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