Netto

The Netto was both great and terrible depending on the location. On the night I arrived in Denmark I remember seeing that distinctive sign and wondering what it was for.

Of the three grocery stores that were within a two minute walk of my house it was probably my least favourite, but it was also the farthest. They had a good deal on the candy that I liked.

I had friends who lived by a smaller Netto that we liked to call the ghetto Netto—so clever. And then there were those nights when the Netto parking lot served as a makeshift hangout.

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I seem to have accidentally purchased a pamplemousse

Buying things in a foreign language can always be fun. This is how I ended up with a duvet cover instead of sheets — although I have found a way to make my duvet cover function as a sheet — and how I ended up buying grapefruits instead of oranges. I was at the store and found round, small, and orange fruits. A nearby sign said Citron and I was like citrus that must be referring to the delightful orange fruits that are obviously oranges (wrong). It so happens that citron was in fact referring to the nearby lemons. Instead the not oranges were called grape and I couldn’t figure out why. I thought what a strange language Danish is to call oranges grape, but it turned out that they are grapefruits as opposed to their actually edible cousin the orange. I had the unpleasant surprise of peeling a fruit that turned out to be red on the inside, to which I thought maybe they are just blood oranges. Wrong again. No, they are grapefruits. I have half of the one I ate sitting on a plate — I can not bring myself to finish more because it is a grapefruit, which has a fairly vile taste. Oh well at least I have a reason to say pamplemousse.

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