Pretzel

“Why is there’s a ping pong ball in the beer can!” I shouted.

After having a sample sip of the brew before processing it with vinegar and mustard seeds to make dip for our lunch, I clutch my throat assuming the worst. Of the millions of beer buyers in the world, I had bought the can laced with poison.

Zachary had cut the can open to reveal a tiny white ball inside after I convinced him something was in the stout beer can that I didn’t believe it to be ice.

We had a huge laugh when the internet explained that we had not actually been poisoned but that the beer company used a widget to release gas into the beer to make it all the more foamy when enjoyed. Obviously, I have very little knowledge about stout.

But I do now.

Once recovered, we dove into these knotted little treats for lunch.

Pretzel are playful. There’s the rolling, tossing, twisting and delightful throwing around of copious sesame seeds. It is a little like playing with ones food. Which as children most of us were probably guilty of. But when was the last time you played with your food?

If you can’t answer, let your hair down, and try making pretzels this week.