I prefer fish to red meat though, which is why my taste buds sprung into life in Bavaria last weekend, whilst visiting my mate Katie and her German husband. Katie is a New Zealander and seldom sees her side of the family. Last week though, they all flew over for the christening of Katie's daughter.
Those Kiwis love a good barbecue and even with temperatures hovering around 0°, they were not to be put off. Risking tedious and cliched shouts of "Chuck another prawn on the barbie mate!" that is precisely what they did. Big fat king prawns, marinated to within an inch of their lives. Delectable.
Finje had had a long and demanding day. Traumatized in the church by a life sized and very realistic model of the crucifixion, she'd demanded to know why the "poor man" was being hurt. In addition, valiant attempts to juggle English and German with various family members were taking their toll on her five year old brain.
The over sized, juicy crustacean, all legs, eyes and feelers I put on her plate and suggested she "try" proved to be the final straw. Exhausted and overwhelmed, she gathered up what energy she had left, to inform us all that killing animals was cruel and she would never eat another.
Fat tears rolling down her cheeks, no amount of persuasion would change her mind. Even the suggestion that her new diet would involve broccoli and brussel sprouts had no impact.
After a cheese sandwich and deftly circumnavigating the huge rack of lamb still on the table, I took her to bed. Swollen and puffy faced but satisfied that she had not eaten an animal.
After a night of deliberation about how to, or indeed if to implement a vegetarian diet, my husband and I watched the next morning as Finje requested extra salami on her breakfast Brot.
Breathing a little easier for now but I suspect this is not the end.