How is it these people aren't FAT?

I don't get it. Everywhere you turn: bread, sugar, pastries and cheese.

The Germans are all thin and chic -- at least the young ones.

I'm an adventurous spirit when it comes to food. I sampled the Dunkin Donuts bacon-donut sandwich when we were in Boston last month. The guy behind the counter was sheepish when I ordered it. I had to ask for it because it wasn't on the menu. Apparently, the public outcry over the "fat" content shamed Dunkin Donuts into taking it off the menu. The guy at the counter muttered to me "you know it's really fattening" as I paid for it.

"I know," I said. "I'm not going to eat the whole thing." And I didn't. I divided into quarters and made Ellen and Allene share the fat. Yamila wouldn't cave. I'd order a Cronut too if I could get my hands on the faddish New York food hit that's a cross between a croissant and a donut.

Which brings me back to the Germans and their pastries. There's no public outcry here about high fat anything. No apparent problem with morbid obesity from what I can tell.

So in the same spirit, I had a Rosinen-Schnecke this morning along with a perfect cup of kaffe. "Yep," said Yamila. "It tastes exactly how I thought it would." She knew I would hound her to take a bite. I needed a witness dammit.

It was divine. But could I start my day out this way every morning the way the Germans seem to? Nope. I already miss my green shake of spinach, apple, pineapple and banana.

But when in Rome ... or, in this case, Germany, I'll do as the Germans do.

And, if luck serves me well, I'll find that Apfelpfannkuchen that Marion says I need to have!

Hopefully I'll get over the caffeine-sugar jitters before we hit Sicily.