Kraakvars – crackling fresh

I often go out for an early morning run. The irresistible smell of freshly baked bread and pastries follow you as you run down the sleeping streets. Munich is crowded with mouth-watering bakeries and you’ll never walk for more than 100m without meeting one.

After the run, when I’ve earned the right, I will stop and buy fresh semmeln for breakfast. The only word which could sufficiently describe the deliciousness of the white bread roll is the Afrikaans word kraakvars. As you cut the semmel open bread crumbs scatter all over the counter top.