The Language of Food
The Language of Food : <German Edition> If I have to find a beginning to the story, I would say it started with the chicken croquettes. It is French but food (and words) evade boundaries, and sometimes dimensions. Those six golden pieces of croquettes provided a much needed sense of familiarity on that particular day. That was the beginning or day zero of my German classes. Why did I choose croquettes? Because the language that I had learned last was French. It might not make sense, but that’s how I operate. And I, for some reason, tried to take a peek on the memory lane from those days. I don’t know if we can call it a walk down memory lane, but it definitely sprinkled bits and pieces of nostalgic moments from the days when I was learning French. With each bite of the croquettes, its crunch invoked the memory of the page-long essays that I wrote based on the different aspects of the French cities, and the soft chicken and cheesy insides brought back a sense of comfort/familia...
