Nothing more than ending up in a random hotel in Frankfurt unexpectedly after missing a connecting flight reminds you more of how every country and culture has its own breakfast thing going on.

Take the Italians. Munching away on “biscotti,” which Americans would consider cookies, a sweet, snack or treat, “brioche,” which the French would consider a sweet bread, and a cappuccino, which pretty much half the world has actually adopted for their preferred all day drink – however in massive cup sizes – is the norm.

In the UK, a full breakfast of black (read blood) sausage, baked beans (read gas), fried bread and fried tomatoes (greasy), and eggs (read every day) is still the going favorite but toast, which in Italy and Greece is a toasted ham and cheese sandwich, and jam are acceptable when one is in a rush.

That reminds me of when I was a student in France and my American friend asked for “trois cartes monsieur” and three (trois) “croques-messieurs” showed up (toasted ham & cheese sandwich.) And, ten years later of another time when in Italy an American friend ordered “toast” and a toasted ham & cheese sandwich showed up much to her hung over chagrin.) We Americans will eat anything, anytime though, which brings me to…

The Americans do it any which way depending on time on hand, pancakes can be served with butter, syrup, chocolate chips, hash browns (fried grated potatoes), bacon, fruit, eggs, toast, bagels, coffee, orange juice and whatever or any mix thereof or a big bowl of cereal with milk from a trillion-gallon jug.

Japanese cuisine may be every westerner’s go to on a Friday night, or any night for that matter, but what about doing a full Japanese breakfast with most of the same ingredients you get in your local sushi lunch venue: Rice, fish, vegetables and Miso soup.

Head down to the horn of Africa and the “putupap,” “pumpuka,” “beskuit,” and “kenkey,” varying versions of millet and cornmeal are served up plain, fried or with plantains and bean pancakes when ingredients are on hand, coffee or a nice bush tea is rarely amiss.

The versatile plantain appears often across central America too, in Panama (fried, squashed or grilled) in “patacones” and served with garlic sausage and liver or corn tortillas with cheese, or a variation of corn dough rolled in a banana leaf.

Back here in Germany though, between the walls of the Intercontinental we’ve got a huge variety of sausage shaped meats, sliced and whole served beside a cheese platter – that I haven’t seen recently even at the best of cocktail parties – on one side, a selection of creamed yogurt like things of varying consistencies and colors, on the other and a fantastic array of dark breads with seeds in the middle.

I go for the “Brot” and “Kaffee”.

Good thing “der Kaffee,” “koffie,” “coffee,” “caffè,” “kopi,” “kave,” “ikhofi” is universal-and translated here into over 8 languages on the coffee machine – and yes, of course, they have “cappuccino.”