Imagine, a land full of mother sauces, divine cuisine and pastries, and a corrupt and sentenced felon actually facing (eventual) justice for the crimes they committed. This sounds like a magical land (all is relative).
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I miss my suburban home after a week there, every time.
...with one national flaw. All that lovely food is available strictly between the hours of 12 and 2 (for lunch) and 7 and 9 (for dinner). If you don't eat on the precise timetable as everyone else (say, jetlag) then you don't eat.
I certainly understand why, I'm not mad about it, just a disappointed. I really liked the food.