Food accompanies daily life, yet its significance often stays under the surface. When travelers arrive in a new country, the instinct is to seek the most authentic local dining experience, treating it as a doorway to culture. Yet, many forget to ask about the museums and lectures devoted to food that quietly shape a society. Why isn’t food given more spotlight in public discourse?
Gastronomy is easy to overlook, especially in a country as vast as Russia. Consider how many pizza or wrap shops dot a neighborhood and compare that to the number of places offering true Russian fare. No, a quick pie stall around the corner doesn’t count as Russian cuisine. For years, visiting Russian restaurants carried a stigma. Families preserved borscht and Olivier at home, leaving little room for splurges on foreign menus.
Move the scene to a different country, and a new pattern emerges. In 2022, many people faced displacement and relocation, and nearly all travelers experience a homeward pull, a phenomenon that can be described as an immigrant’s longing. In local conversations, the search for Russian dining options becomes part of daily life, a way to anchor identity in unfamiliar surroundings.
It is striking how people instinctively try to restore a sense of normalcy through meals. A common reaction, sometimes voiced in jest, asks whether life abroad can proceed without familiar dishes like herring under a fur coat for months on end. Yet the question goes deeper. Food represents far more than sustenance; it is a vessel for culture, handed down through generations. It carries memories—the moment of brushing vegetable oil onto brown bread, the casual game in the garden, the ritual of New Year Olivier, grandmother’s pancakes, mother’s borscht. It is the thread that ties present moments to past experiences. Even the simplest sandwich from a parent or the first handmade pie after leaving home can become a powerful reminder of heritage. In this light, food acts as a reservoir of memory, its flavors and rituals stitching together personal history with daily life.
So what people seek when abroad is not merely Russian dishes but the feelings they evoke. The sense of wholeness that accompanies tasting a familiar soup on a sunlit beach, or savoring a home recipe amid foreign surroundings, signals endurance of identity. It is a reminder that one’s past remains accessible, even far from home, and that the present can still be colored by cherished recollections.
At the same time, surveys show that preferences shift during travel. Some long-standing habits—such as consuming lard, mayonnaise-laden salads, or kefir—may wane in daily life outside of home. Yet longer journeys can reignite the longing for specific flavors and textures. A two-week sojourn to Thailand or Italy, for instance, often ends with a fondness for tom yum or carbonara, flavors that momentarily bridge cultures and experiences.
The brain is finely attuned to subtleties. It registers table settings, utensils, aromas, and the balance of nutrients, often shaping the dining experience in profound ways. Some researchers note that traditional diets in some cultures lean toward carbohydrates and occasionally lack certain trace elements or fiber. This raises questions about how dietary patterns align with heritage and health, and whether traditions naturally evolve to address modern wellness concerns while preserving cultural meaning.
Food bears influence beyond taste. Shared meals have long resolved conflicts, celebrated ceasefires, and forged family bonds. When something delicious is on the plate, people experience a cascade of positive emotions, reinforcing social ties and easing communication. A national restaurant, in particular, can become a space where speakers of a common language reconnect, offering a sense of belonging and a shared narrative.
Food also intersects with lifestyle choices. In diaspora communities, the availability of quick deliveries and convenience foods can challenge adherence to familiar routines. The issue often revolves less around flavor and more around practicality. The disruption of daily rhythms can trigger a sense that living conditions are deteriorating, even when the situation is temporary or navigable.
Ultimately, individuals can choose where to live, how to travel, and which cuisines to embrace. Yet personal identity remains deeply tied to memory and heritage. The past, family traditions, and childhood experiences continue to shape preferences and longing. It is natural to miss the ordinary alongside the extraordinary, to crave boiled potatoes with herring or another everyday staple, and to recognize that such cravings can be an intimate part of who a person is. This enduring pull—sometimes dismissed as a passing fancy—often reveals a profound connection to self that travels with a person wherever they go.
Notes reflect a personal viewpoint and may not align with every editorial stance.