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Travel Cultures Language

Make Any Meal a Travel Adventure

by Joyce McGreevy on March 16, 2020

A food market in Denmark features in the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Image by Joyce McGreevy)

You can order French bread in Denmark (but not a “Danish”).
In France, just order bread—in French.
© Joyce McGreevy

Food Origin Fun with a Dash of Cultural Awareness

So you’ve just canceled that upcoming trip, but you’re still feeling the wanderlust? Don’t be consumed by disappointment—there’s a travel adventure in the food you consume.

Lunch time scenario 1: Lee and his friend Ana meet for lunch.  Lee orders a French dip, French fries and a salad with French dressing.

Intrigued, Ana asks Lee, “What did you have for breakfast?”

“French toast,” says Lee. “Why?”

“Wow,” says Ana with crystal-clear cultural awareness. “You sure love American food!”

Brussels sprouts, known as spruitjes in Belgium, are one of many foods associated with specific places, even when actual food history differs. (Image by Pxhere

In Brussels, nobody eats Brussels sprouts, but many people enjoy spruitjes.
Photo by Pxhere

Lunch time scenario 2: On a culinary travel adventure one summer, I realize it’s been years since I’ve had a Reuben sandwich. Although it’s non-kosher (mixing meat and cheese), it’s a staple of many Jewish delicatessens.

As Meredith Mileti writes in Aftertaste: A Novel in Five Courses:

“I devour the sandwich, a mountain of corned beef between two greasy slabs of marble rye, leaking cheese and Russian dressing all down the front of my sweater. It’s delicious, and I don’t stop eating until I’ve finished the last thick fry, which I use to mop up the remains of the sandwich.”

Ah yes, the front of every sweater, blouse, and pajama top I own might just as well be emblazoned with an image of an airport runway. I order a Reuben anyway, because here I am in the city that invented it. You know, Omaha.

Wait, what?

It’s not “rye” humor—the Reuben sandwich may hail from the Cornhusker State.
© Kimberly Vardman (CC By 2.0)

A Slice of History

Reportedly, the Reuben sandwich was invented during a poker game at Omaha’s Blackstone Hotel circa the 1930s. Hotel proprietor Charles Schimmel then added it to Blackstone’s menu.

Fern Snider, a former employee of the Blackstone, used the recipe to win a national competition in 1956. That’s when the Oxford English Dictionary cites the first published use of the term “Reuben sandwich.”

Several New York-based origin stories also exist, including one from cookbook author and New York Times food journalist Craig Claiborne.

But I’d keep that to yourself if you’re in Nebraska on March 14. That’s when people in Omaha celebrate National Reuben Sandwich Day.  The food fest became official there in 2013.

Oh, I see: Food histories are like mystery novels, except that you can eat the clues, red herrings and all.

In a Pickle

Granted, it doesn’t take gourmet detective Poirot to reveal that a Reuben’s Swiss cheese and Russian dressing are neither Swiss nor Russian—just a case of “Colonel Mustard in the Kitchen with Kraft Foods.”

But even the Reuben’s sauerkraut, well-documented in German culture, has ties to another culture: Mongolia.  One reason Genghis Khan galloped from Asia to Meissen, Germany is that his nomadic horsemen packed the perfect lunch for those 4,000-mile commutes. Fermented food: Don’t leave the yurt without it.

Mongolian horsemen features in the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Image by Erdenebayar/Pixabay)

From Mongolia to Germany to a Chicago hot dog, pickled cabbage has come a long way.
Photo by Erdenebayar/Pixabay

A Mystery that Takes the Cake

In 1963, when President Lyndon Johnson hosted a luncheon for German Chancellor Ludwig Erhard, the dessert chef served German chocolate cake. One wonders what Erhard thought of this three-layer confection of buttermilk, pecans, and not-exactly Teutonic coconut. No German bakery had ever produced one.

So why “German”?

In 1852, an English American chocolate mill worker named Samuel German developed a baking chocolate sweet enough to eat as a bar. Mr. German sold his recipe to Mr. Walter Baker of Baker’s Chocolate Company in Dorchester, Massachusetts. The resulting product, still on grocery shelves today, was Baker’s German’s Chocolate.

A mere 105 years later, a recipe for German’s Chocolate Cake appeared in The Dallas Morning News.  According to National Public Radio, sales of Baker’s German’s chocolate “shot up 73 percent that year, 1957.” Somewhere along the way, folks forgot  the apostrophe in German’s. Yes, they fudged the spelling and  “German Chocolate” took the cake.

A vintage ad for Baker’s chocolate features in the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Public domain image)

I like ads that emphasize the nutritional importance of eating chocolate.
Public domain photo

You Say Croissant, I Say Kipferl

So many foods associated with one place began in another that tracking them down becomes a culinary adventure.

The croissant, that iconic French bread, might never have happened without an Austrian entrepreneur. According to food historian Jim Chevallier, author of August Zang and the French Croissant, the word for croissant did not even exist in 1838. That’s when Zang launched the first Viennese bread bakery in Paris, at 92 Rue Richelieu.

Zang, whose breads included the crescent-shaped kipferl, filled his patented steam oven with moist hay to add “a lustrous sheen.” Customers took notice. So did French bakers. A trend was born.

A Danish features in the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Image by Pxhere)

Surely the Danish came from Denmark. No, Austrian bakers invented that, too.
Photo by Pxhere

A Moveable Feast of Food Origins

In the annals of food history, one culture whets the appetite of others:

As for the pommes frites that preceded fries, they really are French, right? Belgian food historians say, “Au contraire!” Others credit Pedro Cieza, “teenage conquistador turned historian” of Spain. “Hold on!” say others, “It all began with the ancient Incas.”

Yes, the food on your plate is a gastronomical map of the world. Once you bring cultural awareness to the table, it’s all a culinary travel adventure.

A rice dish in Athens, Greece, and a bowl decorated with names of world cities featuresin the culinary travel adventure of a writer on the trail of food origin stories. (Image by Joyce McGreevy)

An Asian restaurant in Athens evokes the global migrations of culinary cultures.
© Joyce McGreevy

• Team Omaha or Team New York? To read more about origins of the Reuben, see the Blackstone story here and food critic Craig Claiborne’s nod to its New York origin story here.

• Get the skinny on a puffy bread. Order August Zang and the French Croissant here.

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

The Many Worlds of English

by Joyce McGreevy on February 18, 2020

A female traveler looking at the electronic board of departures in an airport, symbolizing an opportunity for crossing cultures (Image © Jan Vašek/Pixabay)

Do you ticket travel only to countries that speak your language?
© Jan Vašek/Pixabay

Why Crossing Cultures Always Means Learning a Second Language

Most English speakers who travel internationally and enjoy crossing cultures have, at one time or another, depended on people in other countries to also speak English.  Such moments may arise because

  • even a polyglot is bound to miss one or two of the world’s 6800 languages.
  • your language learning app doesn’t cover how to say, “Could someone help me retrieve my cellphone from the hotel swimming pool?”
  • long-haul flights, long layovers, lost luggage, jet lag, and an unfamiliar environment have temporarily stalled your progress in speaking a second language.

Or as a public speaker once said, “It’s cool that people Over There are all multilingual and stuff, but me, I just travel where people speak English.”

British English and American English dictionaries suggest that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pixabay)

Humorist Stephen Leacock wrote, “In Canada we . . . use English for literature,
Scots for sermons, and American for conversation.”
Photo by Pixabay

The Universal Language?

OK, the “public speaker” was actually a fellow airline passenger talking on his cellphone, but clearly, he intended everyone onboard to have the benefit of his perspective. As a flight attendant approached him, he delivered one last insight: “More people speak English than any other language.”

Did anyone correct our talkative traveler?  I’ll never know. We were all retreating into our headphones by this stage. But more than 1.2 billion speakers of Mandarin Chinese might beg to differ.

“We’re Number Two!”

English actually comes in second, with 983 million speakers. That includes people who speak English as a second or third language.

Still, it got me wondering. What if the man in Seat 37-B keeps his word—his English word, apparently—only visiting countries where English is an official language?

He will be in for a surprise. Because while millions of us around the world speak English, we don’t all speak it the same way.

Imagine our traveler in another English-speaking country. He puts down his cellphone long enough to hear a local say . . .

  1. I could murder a cuppa. (British English)
  2. Shall I be Mother? (ditto)
  3. Strong enough to trot a mouse across. (Irish English)
  4. Let’s grab a capp! (Australian English)
  5. One double-double. (Canadian English)
A mouse on a fence evokes a common expression in Irish English that might baffle American English speakers, suggesting that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pixabay)

In Ireland, what’s “strong enough to trot a mouse across?”
Photo by Pixabay

None of these English speakers is engaged in foul play, role play, building a bridge for rodents, stealing a hat, or placing a bet.  The first three are discussing tea— craving it, pouring it, or brewing it—while the other two prefer coffee.

Oh, I see:  English, the universal language, spans a universe of languages.

Opposite World

Even when English speakers use the same words, they don’t always have the same meaning:

  • In Canada, to table a motion means to consider a proposal. In the U.S., it means to set it aside. When Canadians write a test, they’re the ones taking it.
  • In England, public school is what Americans call private school, and vice versa.
  • In Ireland, being called bold or cute is not a compliment. The former means you’re acting out, the latter means you’re sneaky.

Like Day and Night

Something as simple as daily routine highlights differences among the worlds of English:

  • In Ireland, wearing a vest to work would mean showing up in your undershirt.  A waistcoat completes that three-piece suit. Putting on pants? Do add trousers, or you’ll get chilly legs and chillier looks.
A brogue, or shoe, highlights the differences in American, Irish, British, and other English language words. (Public domain image by Pxhere)

No one in Ireland “speaks with a brogue,”
but some wear brogues on their feet.
Photo by Pxhere

  • In many English-speaking countries, drivers check under the bonnet and stow belongings in the boot before motoring to the company car park (or in Canada, the parkade). They top up the petrol, too. But if the car is munted (NZ), goosed (Scotland), or banjaxed (Ireland), they may ring a taxicab or cadge a lift from a friend.
A utility vehicle, or ute, evokes a common expression in Australian English that might baffle American English speakers, suggesting that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pxhere)

Fear not the deadly ute! That’s Australian English for “impressive SUV!”
Photo by Pxhere

Eating Your Words

After work, do the messages (shop for groceries). In a hurry? In England, order a bacon sarni (sandwich) or other takeaway from the chippy. Wash it down with a bevvy. Don’t need much? In New Zealand, pop into the convenient corner dairy.

Dairy cows evoke a common word in New Zealand Kiwi English that might baffle American English speakers, suggesting that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pixabay)

You won’t find cows at a New Zealand dairy—just grocery staples.
Photo by Pxhere

Prefer home cookery? American English speakers might puzzle over a shopping list of common words like rocket, capsicum, courgette, aubergine—or arugula, peppers, zucchini, eggplant. A Scottish English list might include brambles, tatties, and ‘neeps—berries, potatoes, and turnips or swedes.

Set the table with cutlery, crockery, and serviettes. Afterward, serve afters—dessert. During the  washing-up, don’t be a silly eejit (Ireland) who overloads the garburetor (Canada) with food scraps.

Give Me a Break!

While Americans take vacations, many English speakers go on holiday. In New Zealand, Kiwi English speakers head to a bach, or holiday home, pack togs for swimming, and wear sunnies to protect their eyes. They take off their trainers, slip their feet into jandals, and sip cold stubbies from the chilly bin. But if the weather suddenly turns, they’ll don a pair of gum boots, a.k.a. wellies.

A boy at the beach wearing gum boots, wellies, or rain boots shows that English word meanings differ in different cultures, suggesting that crossing cultures is like learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pixabay)

Wade into any language and you’ll net fascinating finds.
Photo by Pixabay

Wading into a World of Words

As you can see, English, like all languages, is dynamic, forever exploring the multilingual. On almost every continent, different cultures shape English to suit their own needs, influences, and sense of place.

So where does this leave our traveler from Seat 37-B?

I’m hoping that as he explores the worlds of English,  talking with people in new places, he’ll discover that differences enliven communication. That differences are, interestingly, something we all have in common. That crossing cultures and delighting in differences can even lead to the fun—and benefits—of learning a second language.

Two men enjoying conversation evoke the fun of learning a second language. (Public domain image by Pxhere)

Why blather on your mobile?  Wherever you travel,
a proper natter with chums is much more fun!
Photo by Pxhere

See John McWhorter’s TedTalk on reasons to learn a second language here.

Comment on the post below. 

Travel Hacks for 2020

by Joyce McGreevy on January 6, 2020

A mountain climber taking in the view from a peak reminds the author that 20/20 hindsight can actually be a valuable travel hack. (Public domain image by Skeeze/Pixabay)

Seen in hindsight, a travel challenge may prove to be a peak experience.
Image by Skeeze/Pixabay

Take a Fresh Look at 20/20 Hindsight

What’s your travel vision for 2020? Now that we’ve journeyed to a new decade, it’s tempting to focus forward. But don’t overlook the vision that’s always 20/20—hindsight.

Hindsight has a bad rep. No critic ever praised anyone for being “hindsightful.” If hindsight were a character, she’d be the younger sibling of over-achievers. As in, “Why can’t you be like your brother Foresight, always thinking ahead? Or your sister Insight, who brings home one A+ after another?”

Hindsight also gets characterized as Woulda, Shoulda, and Coulda—that terrible trio who show up too late to offer assistance, then stand around shaming us for mishaps we cannot undo.  Yet hindsight can help us debrief, and more.

Focus backward for a moment, and you’ll see how hindsight can be a travel hack.

A purse left behind on a dirt road exemplifies the travel mishaps that trigger 20/20 hindsight yet also inspire travel hacks. (Public domain image by Needpix)

In travel as in life, experience has a cost. Hindsight’s wisdom may not come cheap.
Image by Needpix

Travel Hack 1: See Hindsight as Signpost, not Setback.

In travel, mishaps abound: The wrong train. The faux pas. The theft or scam. The analog camera dropped into the scenic waterfall.

But hindsight, positioned farther along in the journey, knows something we don’t. Maybe the “wrong” train averts the strike that stalls the “right” train. Perhaps the faux pas breaks the ice, turning strangers into friends. The sting of dishonesty is salved by gratitude for countless times when honesty saved the day.

And the camera? Sometimes you must wait to see what develops.

Oh, I see: While clarity may not be “instamatic,” there’s much more to hindsight than meets the eye.

Travel Hack 2: Use Hindsight to Learn a Language.

A sand sculpture of people borne aloft by balloons that resemble brains symbolizes the brain’s power to use hindsight to boost our ability to learn a language. (Public domain image by FotoEmotions/Pixabay)

The brain uses hindsight to improve language learning, better preparing us to travel.
Image by FotoEmotions/Pixabay

Hindsight is a surprisingly efficient teacher, good news for travelers who want to learn a second language. Numerous scientific studies show that a mechanism in the brain reacts in just 0.1 seconds to things that have resulted in us making errors in the past.

Errors like using inviter in French the same way “invite” is often used in the U.S. In France, you “invite” someone to dinner only if you are planning to pay.

Making mistakes in the language classroom may occasion chagrin, but the hindsight factor compensates by helping us avoid errors in the future—and in Michelin-starred restaurants.

Travel Hack 3: Read a Great Travel Memoir.

If only I’d known, we travelers fret, I would have done things differently. Yet it isn’t “things” we mean, but only that one little thing—the single, precipitating misstep or omission—which we then fixate on to the exclusion of everything that enriched our experience beforehand.

For some, that’s all hindsight is, a useless obsession, and many dictionaries support this negative reduction. I prefer Merriam-Webster’s more contemplative wording: “the perception of the nature of an event after it has happened.”

To discover how unflinching and invaluable hindsight can be, treat yourself to Fifty-Fifty: The Clarity of Hindsight (Strategic Book Publishing), my favorite travel memoir of 2019. The author, “Vagabond Lawyer” Julie L. Kessler, has traveled to 107 countries and counting.

Julie L. Kessler, travel ninja and “Vagabond Lawyer”, is the author of the travel memoir Fifty-Fifty: The Clarity of Hindsight and writes “The Traveling Life,” a popular column for the San Francisco Examiner. (Image © Julie L. Kessler)

You probably already know Kessler’s popular column, “The Traveling Life” in The San Francisco Examiner (#SFExaminer).
© Julie L. Kessler

In Fifty-Fifty, a must-read collection of 50 essays, Kessler beautifully demonstrates that hindsight is a many-faceted thing. Yes, it can be painful, but it can also be hilarious, practical, and empathetic.

The book cover for Fifty-Fifty: The Clarity of Hindsight, a travel memoir by Julie L.Kessler, a.k.a., “Vagabond Lawyer,” depicts a travel ninja who travels the globe.

Kessler’s travel memoir won accolades at the London, New York, and Paris Book Festivals. © Julie L. Kessler

In Kessler’s compelling prose, travel hindsight becomes profound, illuminating in ways that go beyond mere “20/20” corrective.

In one unforgettable chapter, the very act of misplacing a passport ushers Kessler into a whole new world of insight.  As she notes:

“Every single destination, even if unintended, holds the chance of something miraculous.”

I don’t want to spoil the revelatory moment that results—after nightfall, in the middle of nowhere, raw with grief and stranded among strangers—but the way Kessler finds the miracle within the mishap proves that sometimes nothing less than the rich context of hindsight can guide us onward.

Travel Hack 4: See the Future of Traveling to the Past.

Could time travel obviate hindsight altogether? According to unidentified sources at The Time Travel Mart, “We’ve been here since the beginning of time so no matter the era, we have just the thing to help you through your travels. Whenever you are, we’re already then.”

A signboard reading “The Mar Vista Time Travel Mart” hints that time travel ninjas have the ultimate hack for turning 20/20 hindsight into a perfect past experience. (Photo © and courtesy of 826LA)

Made a mistake on life’s journey? Time travel offers a (re)vision of a perfect past.
Photo courtesy of 826LA

Wait—The Time Travel Mart?

This online store, which also has two brick-and-mortar locations in Los Angeles, sells what every time-travel ninja needs—a Pastport, (essential for entry to Pangaea),  time travel tickets, a Time Scouts Handbook, and a Victorian iPad that allows you to write your thoughts and then share them “with everyone who passes by.”

A “Pastport” for the armchair travel ninja is a popular item at The Time Travel Mart, a Los Angeles based online store that supports the free literacy programs of 826LA. (Photo © and courtesy of 826LA)

Don’t delay! Get your Pastport . . . yesterday!
Photo courtesy of 826LA

Will these products really blast you into the past? Only time will tell.  But they bode well for young people traveling into the future.

That’s because all proceeds help support free literacy programs at 826LA. If your 2020 travels are of the armchair variety, this travel hack’s for you. Visit The Time Travel Mart and help launch a young person’s journey of discovery into a bright future.

The Future of Hindsight

From my current perspective, I don’t know how 2020’s travels will lead to 20/20 hindsight. But thanks to travel hacks like activating the brain’s linguistic hindsight, following Kessler’s travels, and becoming a time-travel ninja, I’m unafraid to find out.

What has 20/20 hindsight revealed to you about past travels? How might this inform your travels in 2020?

Comment on the post below, or inspire insight with your own OIC Moment here.

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