Rembrandt Donuts

Today I learned a valuable lesson. That lesson was that I’m an ignorant American, who can barely speak a lick of another language and it’s because of that that I’m currently waffling with the idea of bringing my laser pointer (What?! Those are still cool, right?) with me on our day out exploring Prague tomorrow so I can better point to the pastries I want when I go to teeny tiny bake shops like this one, who don’t otherwise speak English.
Despite being president of the foreign language society for three years in high school and doing fairly well in German and French, I was able to retain exactly 3% of those skills after high school. Sad, and maybe I’d be able to take some classes and jump right back into it, but Rosetta Stone is hella pricey and I def don’t have the time, patience, or money to take lessons on my own just for the hell of it.
But anyway, this little bake shop didn’t have a huge selection, but what they had was fresh tasting (despite some of the kinda congealed looking pastries — I promise you, it’s just a weird glaze. Those babies are moister than a motherf*cker) and ridiculously cheap pastries, buns, crepes (palačinky), and sandwiches.
We got a pretty intense and obviously garden fresh caprese sandwich, a swirly bun thing stuffed with Gouda and Mozzarella, and another thing that was like a pizza tart and were all pretty big (about the size of a face) for under $ 4 — Total. Love it. And love it even more because this is probably the only country I’ll be visiting on this trip that has affordable goods, so I’m going to make damn sure we find more places like these and exhaust our immune systems trying to fend off things like heart failure and diabetes. YOLO, right? That’s a thing.