Frischen Himbeeren

That's right, fresh raspberries. That's what I bought from the young man who rang our doorbell about 6:30 last night. I was reluctant to buy them at first, because I'm always hesitant about anyone who comes to the door-- that's the American in me, I guess. When I lived on Capitol Hill in DC I had lots of strange people come to our door. One guy always wanted to make a few bucks by washing my car and I was usually suckered into it. Another guy was bold enough to knock on the door one time and straight out ask for money because he wanted to take the metro back to his house and he was broke. I said no. Anyway, back to Basel... our landlady, Helga, who lives upstairs and bought three containers of raspberries, insisted that I buy the two remaining containers, so I did. And they were delicious.