So last night, over a dinner of Polish dumplings mixed with fried onions, and a couple of broccoli twigs that looked decidedly limp (but were added for color), the truth came out.
"Don't get me wrong, I like Berlin a lot." Quetzl intoned, pushing around his pelmeni with a fork. "But I keep thinking, you know. Greece would be nice too."
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"...he dwelt as it were, in a tent in this world, and was either threading the valleys or crossing the plains or climbing the mountain tops..."
peasant glasses. no stems. solid sides and a tough bottom. drink up.