Pedro El Awesomeo needs Bombs's blog: "Encephalon"

I am a pretzel snob.  I believe I was born liking pretzels.  There are a few photos of me as a young babe holding a pretzel rod and slobbering on it till I consumed it via osmosis.  I even learned how to flip a cigarette into my mouth and back out again (a la Chevy Chase) using pretzel sticks.  Well I was a young child, I didn't smoke, yet. When it comes to eating treats designed as a gift for children who said their prayers I have standards.  (No not the kind of treats Catholic priests give.) 

First of all, a pretzel must be hot.  Don't bring that weak sauce that was cooked two hours ago and has been under a light bulb.  I don't want any easy bake type goods here.

Second, a true pretzel is boiled before salting and baking.  That's right, you ain't no Auntie of mine Annie.  You're just making bread sticks. 

I have found some of the best pretzels come from Pennsylvania.  The dutch immigrants brought the recipes with them, and they make a fine quality pretzel.  While I commend the street vendors of NYC for their availability of pretzels, they really lack the tools to keep them hot.  Even if they make up for it by salting the fudge out of them. 

Now I am not against bag pretzels.  Those are meant to be a room temperature, and most companies do a good job of it.   My own personal favorite is Snyder's of Hanover.  I visited the factory one time, and got some of their good fresh out of the oven.  It was a sort of Pretzel nirvana. I even don't mind cheese or pizza sauce to dunk pretzels in.  I can enjoy that as well.  I do, however skip any pretzel filled with something other than bread.  Let me make up my own mind on what I want with my pretzel, don't force your neo-fascist pretzel flavoring on me. 

So, in summary, I like a good pretzel.