I’ve come to realize that my entire life of travel experiences is associated with either foods indigenous to that particular region or dishes that I only allow myself to indulge in while on vacation. Examples include a warm chocolate chip cookie skillet from Carmel, California, softball-sized lumps of Oaxaca cheese from Acapulco, and Bricker’s fries with vinegar from the Jersey shore.

As of late, no treat can compete with my nostalgic feelings for Nestle Milo from Brisbane, Australia. While studying abroad, the University of Queensland spoiled us with nightly “supper,” what Americans refer to as a midnight snack- always the offering of a simple starch, like white bread toasted with colored sugar, combined with the nightly drink staple, Milo.

For those unfamiliar with Weetabix, Vegemite, or spaghetti for breakfast, Milo is as foreign as grocery shopping in Chinatown. In the simplest terms, it’s chocolate milk with a crunchy top layer. It’s as if a bowl of Cocoa Puffs was one part cereal, sixty-four parts milk, and the puffs were a finely ground delicacy. Whatever the analogy, I’ve been determined to locate this stuff of memories, and until this weekend, New York had fallen short of answering my palatable prayers.

Lo and behold, Tuck Shop on East 1st Street offers the “chocolate malt energy drink” along with an entire menu of treats from down under, most of which I turned my nose up to in favor of my faithful tupperware container of peanut butter that I replenished twice a week from the virtually untouched supply in the caf (this is when I first realized that PB is largely an American phenomenon). While I prefer to never revisit Australia’s predilection for adapting all foods into pie form, I do plan on bringing back the Milo. And Tim Tams.

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