Culture shock and homesickness are harsh mistresses. Just when you think you've got a handle on them, they manage to startle you.

Last week we sent the KCL gay pharmaceutical drug delivery coalition to Nashville, Tennessee for the American Association of Pharmaceutical Scientists annual conference. None of them had ever been to America before, so I was quite looking forward to their impressions.

Very sweetly, one of them approached me before they left and said, "I'll bring you back anything you need, give me a list." My luck!! Usually I have to beg American friends and families for shipments of contraband.

"Aw, thanks," I proclaimed. "I'm really jonesing for some.... Uh...." And my mind went totally blank!

It's always food for some reason. I guess that's what comforts you, and what you desire the most when sad or stressed. So I quickly ran a list through my head, hoping to jog my memory. Some things I already have a stash of (peanut butter for example, the PB here is rubbish, I know plenty of British people who agree and will only eat American PB) while a lot of other things I've learned to make (Mexican, I'm a pro at making my own salsa now) and other items I've just learned to go without. I clearly don't miss them enough to even remember them, which is a very comforting thought.

Finally, grasping at straws and not wanted to be denied the opportunity of a present, I shouted out, "Reese's peanut butter cups!! And get the mini's if you can find them, they have the perfect ratio of chocolate to peanut butter." I didn't even really eat that many when he brought them back for me. I don't think I've ever felt less American in my whole life. How very odd.

Meanwhile, they had a great time. Went line dancing, the Grand Ole Opry, bought cowboy hats for their boyfriends. Awesome. One complaint? "I was dying for a piece of fresh fruit!"

"Yea, at restaurants you won't really get stuff like that. Everything's fried or baked or glazed or whatever," I explained.

"No wonder your whole country's fat."