Food you miss from home and how you get it now

Koshari, the everyday Egyptian dish, is so simple that I thought I could make it anywhere. The problem turned out to be the fried onions. In Cairo you buy them ready from any shop, here I have to make them myself, and the whole flat smells of onions for two days. My kids don't mind at all. My neighbours might.

Sarmale at Christmas, the proper way, with the fermented cabbage leaves you can only buy from one Romanian shop an hour away. I drive there once a year in December like it's a pilgrimage.

I'm Italian living in Austria, so my problem isn't food, it's coffee. The coffee here is good, but it's served in a way that my body refuses to accept. I brought my own moka pot and I'm not ashamed.

German bread, dark and heavy with seeds. Swedish bread is often slightly sweet, which I didn't know was possible for bread. I've started baking my own on Sundays, and my Swedish colleagues now ask me to bring a loaf to work, so something good came of it.

Kimchi made by someone who isn't me. I make my own now in a French flat, and my neighbours have asked about the smell twice, very politely.

in mexico so obviously the food is incredible. but a real bagel. a proper new york bagel. i'd trade a week of tacos for one. kayla says i'm insane

We're lucky in Canada, there's a Pakistani shop in every neighbourhood almost. What I miss is the street food at night, the atmosphere more than the food itself.

Brigadeiro I can make. The atmosphere of a Brazilian birthday party where brigadeiro is served, that I can't. Fatima, I think you're right, it's the atmosphere we miss.

Reading all of these on my day off and feeling so much less alone. Fatima and Sofia put it perfectly. It's the table, the people and the noise we miss, not only the food. I'm going to invite my classmates for adobo next week and make some noise of my own.

Danish rye bread and liquorice. My husband brings back a suitcase of both every visit.