Embracing the Unknown: A Journey Through Homesickness, Wanderlust, and Grain-Free Rosemary Almond Bread

“We are torn between a nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and strange. As often as not, we are homesick most for the places we have never known.”

– Anonymous

Despite being told by many that I am among the bravest individuals they’ve ever encountered, a sentiment I often find myself questioning, a deep-seated nostalgia for the familiar persists within me. My journey, which involved meticulously packing my life into 52kg of luggage and traversing continents and oceans to a new country – one where my language was not spoken, and neither family nor friends awaited – was certainly a monumental leap. It was a relocation, quite literally, for love, a narrative often confined to the pages of romantic novels rather than real life. Yet, even after such a daring move, the comfort of the known remains a powerful draw.

Experiences that might suggest an adventurous spirit, such as diving from a five-meter cliff into the pristine waters of Boracay, sampling thinly-sliced cow’s tongue marinated in olive oil and vinegar, or even my complete lack of fear in crushing insects with my bare hands, have never truly convinced me of my own valor, strength, or courage. These acts, while seemingly audacious to others, feel more like curiosity or practical necessity than genuine bravery.

In fact, among the three children my parents raised, I often perceive myself as the most timid. My brother and sister, with their inherent fearlessness, possess a bravery I deeply admire and often wish I could emulate with more ease.

There are countless days when a crippling lack of self-confidence and an incessant doubting of my capabilities cloud my vision, obscuring the path to the goals I aspire to achieve. There are extended periods when an overwhelming apprehension of the new, the foreign, and the strange compels me to retreat into the comfortable embrace of what is already known and thoroughly experienced. This internal conflict between embracing novelty and clinging to familiarity is a constant companion in my life.

And then there are those moments, often stretching into hours, when I find myself wistfully reminiscing about “the good old days.” These memories, once so vividly etched into the fabric of my mind, seem to subtly fade with the relentless march of time. I grapple desperately to hold onto them, lingering in the sepia-toned images and feelings that my mind, despite its best efforts, struggles to retain with their original intensity. It’s a bittersweet exercise, a longing for a past that, even in its fondest recollections, can never truly be recaptured.

Yet, when these powerful bouts of nostalgia eventually subside, much like a fever breaking and leaving you on the road to recovery, a profound shift occurs within me. I become acutely alert, an invigorating anxiety bubbling to the surface, eager to propel myself forward into a future whose contours I can barely discern. This ebb and flow between retrospection and anticipation defines much of my emotional landscape.

I am consciously striving to live in the present moment, as countless philosophical and mindfulness teachings encourage – “to be in the here and now.” My goal is to fully and thoroughly appreciate the individuals who surround me and the unique experiences unfolding in our current shared space. It’s a continuous learning process, navigating how not to rewind to the past or prematurely accelerate into the future, but rather to simply and wholly participate in the richness of the present. This practice of grounding myself requires immense effort and constant awareness.

To be entirely honest, I confess I haven’t quite mastered this art yet. My mind frequently flits from past recollections to future anxieties and back again, often leaving me too mentally exhausted to truly relax and savor the current moment, or too frazzled to fully absorb and process everything around me. It’s a constant battle against the relentless churn of thoughts and worries.

There is a pervasive homesickness that I often encounter, a common affliction for most who choose to live far from their origins. In my specific case, it manifests as a profound longing to be physically close to my family and dearest friends. I yearn for the local foods of my upbringing, whose very tastes and aromatic smells instantly transport me back to a sense of belonging, to a place where I felt inherently rooted. And, inevitably, I miss the familiar social fabric of the society in which I grew up, its nuances and unspoken rules providing a comfort no new place can instantly replicate.

Yet, beyond this conventional yearning for a familiar birthplace, there exists another, more enigmatic form of homesickness. It is a longing, a deep-seated desire, for “places we have never known.” This captivating concept speaks to a different kind of wanderlust, an intrinsic pull towards the unfamiliar and unexplored.

The anonymous quote that opens this reflection truly encapsulates this complex human condition. This inherent necessity, this deep-seated need, this undeniable craving to experience life in myriad forms, to immerse oneself in different cultures, to engage in diverse activities – it’s a modern affliction, perhaps only truly diagnosed and amplified in this twenty-first century thanks to unprecedented technological advancements and vastly improved means of global transport. This profound urge for discovery is not just present; it runs deep within many of us, shaping our choices and our aspirations for a globalized existence.

Just last week, I had the pleasure of sharing tea with a visiting friend’s sister from Singapore. I took her to the breathtaking El Ateneo Grand Splendid, a former theatre exquisitely transformed into one of the world’s most beautiful bookstores, located along Buenos Aires’ bustling Avenida Santa Fe. After she captured a few striking photographs of its impressive, ornate interior, we ascended to the stage, which now charmingly serves as El Ateneo’s in-house cafe. Our time together was limited to just a couple of precious hours, but over steaming cups of tea, delectable panqueques de dulce de leche, and flaky medialunas, we exchanged deeply personal anecdotes about our respective experiences living abroad – mine in Mannheim, Germany, and Buenos Aires, Argentina; hers in Tokyo, Japan, and Hong Kong. It was a bonding experience, sharing the unique joys and challenges of expat life.

With the gentle strains of classical music from the cafe pianist drifting in the background, we candidly discussed the emotional landscape of living overseas: the exhilarating highs, the profound lows, and the persistent sense of being far from home and family. We delved into the often-unspoken truth of returning home only to discover that we, ourselves, had irrevocably changed. And perhaps even more poignant, that those we had left behind, our closest connections, now perceived the world and thought so differently from us. This realization, that home changes as much as we do, is a powerful, sometimes melancholic, aspect of long-term travel and relocation.

Ultimately, we arrived at a shared conclusion: we are, fundamentally, the type of individuals who actively seek out novel experiences. We are the wanderers, the explorers, the souls who intentionally search for the different and derive immense joy from meeting new people, regardless of how divergent their backgrounds or perspectives may be from our own. We acknowledged a common trait – a tendency to grow restless, even bored, with that which never changes, with the too-familiar routines or the overly predictable aspects of life. We both recognized a deep-seated need for constant stimulation and exciting encounters to feel truly alive and engaged with the world.

And I’ll add, echoing the anonymous wisdom, that mostly we are homesick most for the places we have never known. This insatiable curiosity and longing for the undiscovered truly drives us forward.

Today, I want to share something truly special: a recipe that serves as a trusty balm for the homesick soul, whether that homesickness is for a place left behind or for a new horizon yet to be explored. It’s a recipe for a delectable grain-free bread, distinctively more savory than sweet, thanks to the fragrant fresh rosemary leaves lovingly sprinkled into the batter. This is not just a recipe; it’s a comforting embrace in edible form, perfect for those moments of reflection or anticipation.

This bread offers a deeply filling and nourishing experience. Crafted from a wholesome combination of almond flour, coconut flour, and flaxseed meal, bound together with eggs, a touch of apple cider vinegar, and the richness of coconut oil, it’s designed to satisfy both body and soul. Imagine it: fresh out of the oven, still warm, sliced thickly and generously smeared with melting butter. Each bite promises to envelop you in a comforting warmth, spreading from the inside out, truly embodying the spirit of a healthy, comforting treat. It’s a perfect companion to a quiet morning, an afternoon tea, or simply a moment of self-care.

Grain-free Rosemary Almond Bread

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5 from 3 reviews

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  Author: felicia | Dish by Dish
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  Total Time: 40 mins
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  Yield: 1 standard loaf