It was supposed to be so simple, a well-trod path I've followed almost every May for the last decade: A six-day trip to Munich to attend the final Munich High End Show before it decamps to Vienna next year.
I see any trip to Europe as an opportunity to replenish my personal stash of Anthon Berg Danish marzipan bars, a childhood favorite with a crack-like addictive pull. My flights and hotel were booked months in advance. I was ready to go.
Then Jim Austin, my esteemed editor, asked…