I went to Panera this morning. Mmm, good bread. I haven't had any since I left University of Basketball town, where we had a co-op that made terrific bread (and terrific scones, and cherry-almond tarts and ... yum.) It's funny how you take little stuff like that for granted, until it's gone.
So far, much of the stuff I miss about U. of B. Town is food-related -- milk and ice cream from the local dairy, the Middle Eastern deli where you get an enormous plate of food for $6.99, the Mexican place with six different kinds of homemade salsa, barbecue. I found another dairy here that sells milk in glass bottles, and there's a place in New City that can satisfy the falafel cravings, but I don't think there's much to be done about the barbecue. It's really the department pig pickin' that I miss, because there's nothing like sitting out under the stars with a bottle of bourbon and the smell of slow-cooking pig in the air.
Come to think about it, memories of my favorite places are nearly always intertwined with memories of food -- nothing says "childhood beach vacations" to me like corn on the cob and fresh tomatoes and a whole heap of blue crabs with Old Bay. And studying abroad? All about the paella and oranges and the Serrano ham and oh my God, the coffee. I've been back to Spain twice since then, and just going to the bar for a sandwich brought the memories flooding back. Good stuff.
I'm sure I'll miss a lot of little things when (and if) I move away from here, but I don't know what they are yet.
So yeah, food, a good thing, especially when shared with other people. Don't you agree?