American food! Why have you forsaken me!? Am I to die in this European desert without your barbecue to comfort me? Am I to wander the streets in the hopes that the scent of grease fryers will bring joy back to my life? Is it the weeks I spent as a vegan that now the largest glass of beverage is no bigger than a petri dish?

Let me die a broken and hollow man. A land of magnificent bread, chocolate, fresh-market vegetables and cheese with nothing else is no land I can live. I would throw it all to the fires and dogs but for a taste of ribeye. I would cast the conglomeration of mundane swiss sandwiches into the pits of hell for pulled pork and corn bread with honey. These sick monstrosities of Swiss food will haunt me forever.

I long for shores where glasses have more than a sip of water served at room temperature. Where it is encouraged to eat until you are sick and must watch football until pie is served. Where donuts are not only approved by the FDA but also a common breakfast food for schoolchildren.

These europeans have talked of their wondrous food but have delivered empty promises. What is fondue in the face of beer brats? What is Nutella in the face of apple pie? Has the mass consumption of nicotine suppressed the appetites of these Swiss crowds so much that they are sated by a meal consisting of some thin broth with bits of bread floating feebly beneath the surface?

Oh American food! Take me back with your warm embrace. Let me never stray from you again. Forget the nasty things I have said about the mass consumption of meat, or the slander against the process used to make chicken nuggets–disgusting though it may be. Let me sit down at any restaurant and order piles of onion rings to dip in ranch dressing until I feel so fat and guilty that I have to eat my full rack of baby back ribs and my loaded bake potato just to erase the memory. Oh American food! My love for you is unceasing. Wait for my eager return on the third day. Look towards the East.