My dad once called me a “lover of humanity” after I enthusiastically recounted the highlights of a trip I had taken somewhere new. His characterization at first had taken me aback, because I normally consider myself one who guards against excessive interaction on a day to day basis. I need my down time just as much as I need social activity– but it would appear that when I’m out and about, I get as much interpersonal interaction as humanly possible.

The one thing I love about sewing myself into an international community is the opportunity to experience the best that each culture offers.  Even if you think a certain place has only negative attributes, I’ve got to believe that somewhere deep down those folks have something worthwhile to offer. As for me, I recently didn’t have any hard thinking to do after attending an event that boasted thirty countries rolling out the finest of local food and drink.  It was extrovert central and I was up to my neck in the action. Who was this person rolling around in a Tom Brady jersey?!

The following is a highly unresearched (and unbalanced) presentation of what I sampled on this particular international night. I apologize to those countries that don’t have a photo posted, but I promise that my hands were too busy juggling your amazing food and drink for me to snap a picture. As for everyone interested in attending one of these events, I’d recommend showing up with a somewhat empty stomach and a simple goal of enjoying the atmosphere.

I arrived early to lend a hand in setting up the American table, and instantly I made friends with neighboring Croatia by helping to carry in some “Yugoslavian Coca-Cola”. Our theme at America was “tailgate party” and this had us bringing in Superbowlesque decorations that included homemade uprights made from spray-painted PVC pipe and turf.

A plastic inflatable football completed our display somewhat imperfectly. Hours before the event, the ball suffered a fate worse than Lucy as one of our excessively sporty German friends attempted a Doug Flutie-style field goal, puncturing the thing as he kicked it through the uprights. The kick is no good.

My Danish friend beckoned me over at the start of the night. I had previously demonstrated my disknowledge of Denmark by telling him how much I loved his country’s goat cheese. “That’s not Danish!” he exclaimed, “that’s Norway, but also I love it too. Now you have to come to our table and try some aquavit.”  Indeed this became stop one (after experiencing a drive-by from an Italian bearing a platter of pizza). The imposing Dane then introduced me to a “Sunday picnic food” sampling of curried herring on brown bread that was washed down with a shot of spicy aquavit. International Night was on, and I’ll never confuse these Scandinavian countries again. At least I hope.

The inside baseball was to spend more time at countries that might get less attention on the world stage. When I say that, I’m delicately inferring that it was advised to spend less time grazing at gastronomie central (Vive La France!) and instead go for the lesser touristed places like, say, Georgia.

Fueled on Danish Aquavit, my next stop was indeed the Georgian table. After appreciating their ornate culinary presentation, I inquired as to what each item contained. Walnuts apparently factor big into their food and luckily for me, I’m a big fan of walnuts. Plus they’re chock full of Vitamin Something and that made everything I tried extremely healthy…and delicious. To include their wine.

Next to Georgia was Azerbaijan’s table, and they too did a wonderful job of balancing delicious food with country familiarization scenes for those of us who had not yet been. The great thing about all of this cultural drinking is that by the time you left the starter tables like Denmark, you no longer felt awkward about rolling up to say, Lithuania’s table, eyeballing their bottle of spirits and asking, “so what the heck is in this?”

Germany had a table that was also a big hit (and it’s not just for the dress donned by folks hailing from the south of the country).  Unfortunately, as I mentioned up above, I spent too much time at other tables and never got closer than snapping this photo. There were far too many countries to visit, and I was really digging my cup of Israeli falafel and hummus around the time I walked past Germany.

The Canadians somehow got an overflow spot located just outside on the terrace. Maybe it was due to the nippy conditions (our lovable neighbors to the north call it “summer weather”), but they seemed happy enough as they ladeled out Moose Milk to a converted crowd. I never saw their table go unvisited, so it would appear that all the other countries approved of the Canadian summer temps as well.

I don’t even remember if I tried anything at the Czech table, because by the time I got there it was getting toward the end of the night.  All I know is that I busted out some knowledge of Czech hockey players (more than just Jagr) and presto! I was pals with the folks manning this table.

Props to Poland not only for their apples, but more importantly for their winning display of vodka art. I’m pretty sure I had one of these.

The winner for excellence in the multidisciplinary field was Turkey. They welcomed the participation of folks to carefully swirl sticks and craft intricate designs that you could take home. If I wasn’t so interested in the baklava and evil eye souvenirs, I would have joined in. Next year, inch’allah. They did, admittedly, manage to send me away with a thimbleful of Rakı.

I love Sweden, but couldn’t bring myself to try the smoked moose. Since Finland, Denmark, Sweden and Norway were all lined up together, I instead ran the bases and sampled their various interpretations of herring on brown bread. They all tasted amazing.

The United Kingdom did a fabulous job of saturating attendees with the most fantastically garnished Pimm’s Cups. Their corner oozed Cool Britannia with Union Jack displays and mini pies– although someone was circulating a rumor that in a previous year they were serving Guinness. As my one of my Irish friends remarked, “the cheek of them!”

The night wasn’t just about gluttony. In the months leading up to the event, representatives from each country assembled a basket filled with hometown goodies that was auctioned off towards the end of the night for charity. I’m biased, but I think America put together a great basket complete with a Weber Grill serving as the actual basket. A friend of mine actually won our basket, and his delight can be seen in the next photo. He was actually so thrilled with the win (or the Norwegian beer), that I couldn’t get him to stop talking to pose for the photo:

A great night was had by all.  And not only those walking out with international baskets, either.

If you ask me, everyone who managed to make good sport of table hopping also won at international night. Whether everyone echoed this sentiment the following morning is beyond me.

It wasn’t long before the two minute warning that the football died and supplies started to dwindle. It’s fair to say that the young and old, drinkers and teetotalers– everyone in between had a truly enjoyable time wandering about and taking a moment to say hi to one another on this unique chance at International Night. They say that there is nothing like wandering beyond your backyard to help break down barriers, and I tend to believe that this is true. Don’t get me wrong, I know that there were still some people or countries who are not going to become best buddies after an international night, but every bit surely helps.

It’s a delicious world, indeed.