Growing up, I used to be a picky eater. Since childhood, I have grown an adventurous appetite where I will eat anything on my plate, consistently trying new culinary cultures. In preparing for my trip to Germany and the Czech Republic my parents joked asking “What are you going to eat over there? How will you survive without Mom’s cooking?” To their surprise and mine, I didn’t just survive, I thrived. Every single meal on our program was a hit. I never had a bad dish. Whether it was bread and apricot jam at breakfast or doner kebab and a pretzel for dinner, every time our group sat down for food I knew it would be something special.
What surprised me the most was how many meals reminded me of my southern comfort food from back home. One of the first meals I had in Berlin was pork schnitzel with creamy mushroom sauce and a side of warm potatoes. I couldn’t help but think of my Grandma’s fried pork chops with gravy over mashed potatoes. It was hard to feel homesick when every bite was a reminder of home.
Our group had the opportunity to participate in an authentic German cooking class. We made rich and flavorful sauces poured over meat and dumplings. Cooking and baking our dish felt like creating a cousin to biscuits and gravy. Even bread played a similar role abroad and home, always on the table and always essential. Watching the chef instructors, you could see their passion and joy which reminded me of the love and care my mom would show in our kitchen.
This trip didn’t just expand my world. It reminded me that connection and comfort can be found in the most unexpected places, often on a plate.
