For Kenyans living in Poland, dining out becomes one of the cultural shocks they must adjust to. Unlike back home, where one can simply walk into a restaurant and enjoy a full course meal, here reservations are often expected and meals unfold slowly.

From kebabs wrapped in warm bread to pierogi served in traditional restaurants or sushi enjoyed in Warsaw’s glasshouse dining rooms, each choice reflects the realities of living abroad and the adjustments required to fit into Poland’s dining culture.

Patricia Abuya moved to Poland in 2021 to study for her master’s at Warsaw University of Technology.

Patricia Abuya, 30, a human resources professional based in Warsaw, Poland.

Photo credit: Pool

“Back then, I used to eat out three to four times a week because it was convenient.”

She later found love and became a mum which meant more home-cooked meals. She and her daughter eat out once a week, on Fridays.

“Once a month, we try a new cuisine. It could be Korean, Chinese, or Indian. I make sure we explore new dishes. At nine, most places offer 50 percent off because they close by 10pm. I always wait for that. It makes eating out very cheap.”

Her favourite restaurant is Izumi Sushi. “It is a Japanese restaurant in a glasshouse with tropical plants including a palm tree. It is such a therapeutic atmosphere!”

A quick takeaway meal costs her about Sh700. She often goes for Turkish kebab, wrapped neatly, warm in her hands, filled with layers of meat, vegetables, and sauce.

“It reminds me of shawarma back home,” she says. She knows what to expect each time she orders it. “The first bite is always warm, the bread soft, the flavours so rich...”

What surprises Patricia about the dining culture is how seriously they take the rules. “Most places need reservations. You cannot just walk in and sit anywhere. Even when tables sit empty, there is a pause, a moment where you wait to be acknowledged. There is also how people present themselves. You need to dress well. It is part of the experience.”

Each month, she budgets carefully, setting aside about Sh4,000 for eating out. “If I use Sh3,500 in a restaurant, then the next Friday I keep it simple, about Sh1,000 each. If the money runs out, I’ll stop there.”

Still, there are moments when homesickness tugs her heartstrings.

“I miss Kenyan food so much. Just stopping by a roadside stall after a long day, picking up chapatti and green grams. The smell of frying dough, the warmth of food wrapped quickly and handed over. You just pick it and go. It saves time.”

In Warsaw, that kind of ease is rare. It appears mostly in summer, in temporary stalls that come and go with the season.

Keeping it intentional

While Patricia stretches her spending through timing and routine discounts for cheaper dining, Beryl keeps it measured, choosing fewer, more intentional dining experiences once a month.

Beryl Okal, 45, moved to Poland in 2020 after spending 13 years in the United States. She treats eating out as a monthly ritual, after payday.

Beryl Okal, 45, a postgraduate from the University of Warsaw, shares her life in Poland.

Photo credit: Pool

“For a simple restaurant meal I spend about Sh1,800. And if I add a drink, maybe juice or something warm, it goes up to around Sh2,000.”

One of the things she had to adjust to was the slow-paced nature of dining in Poland.

“The food comes in courses sometimes, and no one is chasing you away. You sit, eat, talk, and just stay. At first, it felt too slow for me. Now I understand it. It is just how things are done here.”

But not every day allows for that kind of spending or time. She shifts easily into her everyday routine. “On normal days, I do not go to restaurants. I go to the convenience stores for a quick snack. I usually spend between Sh100 and Sh350, depending on what I pick.”

She has also grown familiar with dishes like pierogi, soft dumplings filled with different ingredients, served warm and comforting. “A portion usually consists of 7–12 dumplings which costs between Sh600 and Sh1300 depending on the restaurant's location and type.”

Vodka, on the other hand, holds its own place in social life. With a standard bottle going for about Sh800 to Sh1200. “When you welcome someone to your house, you offer them vodka,” she says. “Before lunch, there is vodka. After lunch, there is vodka.”

“When spring starts, everything changes,” she says, “People come out. The parks fill up. You see people sitting on benches, others lying on the grass, some just talking and laughing.

Some parks even have small restaurants and bars at the edges. You can sit outside, order something, and just stay there for hours.”

Her tone shifts, as she talks about the colder months. “Winter is completely different,” she says. “Temperature can go down to negative 20 degrees. The streets are quieter. People are not just walking around. Everyone is trying to stay warm.”

Even something as simple as eating out, she says, becomes a daunting task. “Sometimes you want to go, but you ask yourself if it is really worth stepping into that cold,” she says.

Street food remains something she misses. In Kenya, it was easy to find, and easy to afford. In Poland, outdoor dining feels more structured, with restaurants extending their seating outside, but independent stalls are rare.

Her best experiences

At 30, Wanjiru Wamwea’s life in Poland has unfolded in ways she did not expect. She arrived in Wroclaw in 2020, and her first shocker was realising that all her familiar food was nowhere in sight. No ugali, no sukuma wiki, no roadside maize. In their place were menus filled with names she had never seen before. Pierogi. Zurek. Bigos. “At first, I did not even know what to order,” she says.

Wanjiru Wamwea, 30, a senior applications analyst in the IT department of a Polish airline.

Photo credit: Pool

Restaurants felt quiet and very formal. There were no loud calls from vendors, no quick exchanges over a counter, everything seem so well put-together and polite.

“A simple outing costs Sh2,000 or more, so I do not take it lightly,” she says. I think about where I want to go and what I will eat.”

On most days, she keeps it simple. “My go to is a kebab, about Sh700. I like it because it is filling and fast. I usually get it from the same small spot near my place. I go there maybe once or twice a week, especially when I do not feel like cooking.”

“I have tried pierogi, Zurek, bigos,” she says, now speaking with the ease of someone who has learned where to go and what to expect. In Wroclaw, she orders pierogi at Pierogarnia Stary Młyn, a popular Polish restaurant chain specialising in traditional boiled and baked pierogi, for about Sh650. “At first it felt unfamiliar, but it grows on you.”

A bowl of Zurek costs about Sh950. “It is a sour cereal soup, different, perfect for the cold weather.” She tried bigos at Wrocławska Restaurant. “It is strong, not something you immediately love.” In winter, she returns to Pierogarnia 3 Pierogi for soup where she spends about Sh900. “You just want something warm.”

Some of her best experiences so far in Poland have been exploring the local cuisine and nature. “I would say Polish food is one of the best cuisines I have had. They eat a lot of meat, I love meat. They also love potatoes,” she adds.

Outside work, she enjoys hiking. “One of my favorite places is the Bieszczady Mountains. It is not very popular, but it is really beautiful.”

→ mochieng@ke.nationmedia.com

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