Bist du ein Deutscher?

Last week the cafeteria at work served bratwurst and sauerkraut. This was a rare treat--I love the stuff and hardly anyone ever serves it. Unfortunatly they failed to include the requisite red cabbage and potato pancakes, but I didn't mind. I took my lunch back into the break area. As I ate, three different times people paused as they walked by to peer at my plate, and in a slightly puzzled voice ask, "Is your family German?"

I find the question amusing. The implication, or course, is that no one in his right mind would enjoy bratwurst unless he had an irresistable genetic predisposition that overrode the natural order--rather like being gay, I guess. You don't see such behavior with other foods. Imagine how ridiculous you would sound asking someone eating pepper steak, "Oh, are you Chinese?"