Well, this is it, officially the very last post about our trip to Asia. After three months of beautiful temples, significant historical sites, and baffling metropolises, I can truly say that our view of the world has drastically changed. Our understanding of history, culture, and foreign relations is wider and more complex, and our memories of the places we saw and people we met will always be with us. Plus, my confidence in my ability to navigate difficult and confusing situations has skyrocketed. And I hope that my work in the kitchen will be more diverse from now on as well.

As amazing as our trip was, by the time we got to the airport in Hong Kong, I was ready to be back in my mother country. I was excited by the prospect of our own beds, hot showers, and routines. (And I am almost as excited now to be able to stop talking about the trip and go back to this blog's original focus, cooking.)

I never missed American food while we were in Asia, and I could count on one hand the western meals we ate there. The few western dishes we did have were mediocre imitations at best (except the french fries, which somehow manage to be pretty decent most places), so it would have been a mistake to try to fulfill any culinary longings for home we might have had. That said, the minute we touched down on American soil, all my absent cravings appeared with a vengeance and I made a beeline for the airport concessions. Which, considering what we all know about airport food, means I had it pretty bad for some Yankee chow.

Greg, unsurprisingly, opted for a hot dog, which was probably a good choice, since our layover was in O'Hare, and his meal was slightly less disappointing and overpriced than the other options.

To accompany my junky yet heavenly meal of doughy, over-cheesed bagel and ambrosial Jamba Juice, I also grabbed some traditional junky reading material, something which I actually had missed pretty consistently throughout the trip. I tried reading Chinese fashion mags, but it just wasn't the same!