Been in Europe for two weeks now. Vienna is our fifth country in that span. I've tried to eat as…read morecultured as possible. Local dishes, street food, anything that felt authentic. But after a full day on the train and getting settled into the BNB, I had a real moment with myself.
Do I really want to gamble on my first proper meal of the day? It was 8 PM. I was starving. No room for risk.
Then I saw it. Hard Rock Cafe, glowing like a beacon. A familiar face in a city of strangers. Some might call it a tourist trap. That night, it felt like home.
Now usually I'd scoff at that. Chain restaurant? In the heart of a European capital? But that BBQ Bacon Burger hit like a warm memory. Juicy, smoky, and unapologetically American.
Washed it down with two Budweisers. Not the Czech kind. The red, white, and blue kind. The kind that tastes like football Sundays and freedom.
Sometimes your body tells you exactly what it needs. That night, it wasn't wiener schnitzel or goulash. It was protein, grease, and American beer.
Thank you, Hard Rock. You understood the assignment.