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Entenmann’s apple strudel on which I was raised,” I remarked.

“Yes,” my bandmate replied. We sat in silence for some minutes, eating strudel.

“I cannot complain about Austria,” I observed after some time. “Audiences have been friendly, if not as friendly as German audiences, and promoters have been enthusiastic about our aesthetics, if not as enthusiastic as Germans. However, I continually find that, when writing or thinking about Austria, my thoughts and comments begin and end with food, which, in Austria, is always delicious, and always available.”

I thought my bandmate offer a rejoinder to my observation, but he contined to eat in silence. I assumed that my bandmate was not in the mood to converse. Thus, I cut myself a second piece of strudel and ate it without speaking.