Breakfast in Munich Full of whims and fancies she stayed in the hotel room asking for biscuits with milk, and I went downstairs to bring her what she wanted. Come on, old boy, shoot at me! Though there’s almost no place in my heart: it’s torn to pieces by your arrows, just like a target in a frequently visited shooting gallery, — I thought, wandering amidst delicacies. Oysters and caviar were served on silver plates, icy brut and champagne were placed in buckets, there were Parmigiano and truffles, mangosteens, pawpaws and whatnot. The only lacking thing was milk and biscuits. So typical of a 5-star hotel! Adjusting an arrow in my heart, I dropped in a dairy.