Imagine my surprise/delight/horror when I saw a box-mix of dumplings in the supermarket. Not just any old semmelknödeln, but “der klassiker!” Generally speaking I am opposed to box-mixes but, hey, it’s Germany, I love semmelknödeln and I’ll try anything—yes, I have tried anchovies and they are disgusting. An added plus was that the box was like $1.50.

So when I was in the store reading the instructions, just kidding, I never read instructions. If I took delivery of an unassembled electron microscope I’d just jump right in discarding pieces that didn’t seem relevant or the right shape (as I imagine the shape ought to be) and get on with it. Come to think about it this may be why a number of things I’ve assembled didn’t function/look right/taste particularly pleasant.

Not that I was going to make them today, I wasn’t, but I did look at the instructions once I got home thinking I may need to get other ingredients. Box cakes need things; eggs, water and oil. Who knew? These could need Pflappenpfugen or eier or any number of things I am sure not to have on hand. I was completely confused. Of course the German is almost meaningless to me but the illustrations were . . . I had no idea what I was looking at.

And then I opened the box! OMFG. Each dumpling is in a plastic thingamadoodle. Ugh. Greta Thurnberg forgive me.

Just no. Although I will report further on this hellish nightmare. OK, not hellish on the order of any number of hellish things, but, you know, not Disney Princess Level. Basically “hellish” can have a pretty wide range—hangnail to squirrels-in-the-peach-tree to overnight in the Newark Airport.