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It was also recent, on my trip to Europe with my mother in June of this year. Mom and I were wandering around Munich's downtown core our first morning there, already tired and looking to sit after having wandered around the Viktualienmarkt in circles. Mom saw a little cafe just off the main market street, where they were making delicious-looking pastry right inside the large front window. We went in, mom probably delighted for a chance to rest with a coffee and a sweet; me with the knowledge I likely wouldn't be able to have anything, since coffee without soy milk is too harsh for my stomach. As expected, they did not have soy milk but the waitress was fluent in English and told me the pastry were vegan. Whaaat?? Yes, no milk or butter and eggs. She didn't even need me to prompt her--she knew what vegan meant, and what the ingredients were. Well hot damn, I'll take three! No, I had one, but it was amazing.
Even more amazing: while we watched the cook behind us pull the dough into rounds, my mother said, I think my mother made these when we were young. My mom's parents were German, and she remembered sitting around, watching her mom cook the dough in a pot full of fat, waiting with her siblings for the dough to cool down before they could eat it. So it may not have been the most nutritionally complete meal, but it was pretty sweet.
