Dahl baath for the soul

One thing I always look forward to when I'm coming back to Belgium, is the food. I'm not talking about Flemish fries, Brussels sprouts or expensive chocolates. It's mama's cooking I crave before/during/after traveling. Because mom's food is the best food. My mom beats every tv chef and fancy restaurant. I could even say my mom beats your mom's cooking. But that would be rude. But true. She IS one hell of a cook. The only reason I'm homesick once in a while is because 'home' equals her divine meals.

A very important part of traveling for me, is trying local dishes. It's like tasting the soul of a place. Sometimes I enjoy a beautiful meal prepared by a family, other times I find tricky looking food stalls that sell things I might regret eating. But I try it anyway. And a whole new world opens up to me. Four years ago, my stomach didn't agree with some Nepali dishes, but this time my belly was having party. I ate crispy noodles with a piece of cardboard instead of a fork, goat lungs that tasted like soft chicken, dahl baath until I fainted with happiness. And for a second, I forgot about Belgium and mom's homely food.