Sunday morning, the ungodly hour of just after 8 a.m., a cook looks down from the wrought iron staircase onto a drunken crowd - pounding the 46th beer at the end of a long night out, rocking out to the live band playing Bon Jovi's greatest hits, scarfing down a raw pickled matjes - something like a herring - topped with raw onions. Breakfast of champions.
Welcome to the institution known as the Hamburg Fischmarkt. Check back in with smashandsniff this Friday for a full dispatch from last Sunday's market.
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