It was my first holiday in Europe. I was by myself, I had just landed at the airport in Geneva, I was thinking of the conference I was going to attend and the vacation that was to follow with my then-fiancée-and-now-wife. Just before I took the train from the station attached to the airport, I walked inside a small pâtisserie to eat. After spending a good amount of time just watching what was on display I walked away with a small savory pie with a bottom crust, a top crust and a small hole in the middle, all neatly tucked away in a brown paper bag. As the train pulled out of the station and began running along a lake, I pulled out a tray, and setup to eat the pie with much anticipation. I remember the slightly cold meat and pastry, and the jelly that tasted a bit like meat. It was an unfamiliar combination of familiar flavors.
