Is it bad that my mouth started to water just from typing those three words in succession? I don't know who Auntie Anne is (or was), but one thing's for sure: I love her.
There really is nothing like a proper pretzel - don't get me wrong, the little crunchy ones you can get in packets are great for munching on or for dotting around the table in piled-high snack bowls for contented guests to pick at, but nothing compares to biting into a hot, doughy, salty pretzel. Plus they're about ten times the size - enough said. In fact, when the vendors hand it to me it usually goes straight into my mouth (to their horror and my delight).
So you can imagine my joy when Auntie Anne's opened up here about a year ago, offering a multitude of sinfully delightful pretzel flavours. Whilst I love the variety (the cinnamon pretzel sticks are fragrant and heavenly, whilst offerings like the jalapeño pretzel are spicy and exotic) I am of the belief that you simply cannot beat the original. I mean come on, it's the original for a reason. I just love the crunchy hits of salt you get off the beautiful golden glazed exterior and the perfectly doughy softness of every bite.
On top of everything the smell is something else (it doesn't help that my local shopping centre has placed it opposite Primark - every time I go there for essentials I end up being persuaded to buy a pretzel instead. Woe is me...)
They really should be one of the five major food groups due to being supremely satisfying and infinitely moorish, and can only commend Auntie Anne for her perfectly formed, decadently delicious offerings. She is truly queen of the pretzel.