Yesterday I represented my husband because he was ill.

When shopping. For the whole week.

My husband does it every Saturday at the same time – efficiently, structured, like a professional. I, on the other hand: overwhelmed! Cake baking ingredients or shopping for dinner? No problem. But over 40 articles at once? Whew.

Why do I see cucumbers here and there again?

Why do we need five different pasta shelves?

Why are there ten different types of honey in as many packages?

Everyone around me seemed to know exactly what they wanted and where to find it.

I? Twice I asked where I could find something – and thought about whether such conversations are still okay? Fortunately, yes. People were happy to help.

I admit that the variety of food in Germany overwhelmed me as early as 1997, and every now and then it still happens today when I go to a supermarket.

It’s not that I don’t know what my family likes to eat – that’s what our handy app is for. It’s the sheer choice. Which manufacturer, which ingredients, which packaging? It takes an eternity until I have decided.

“It’s wonderful, this diversity!”, you say? Yes, that’s right, after all, there are many jobs behind it. And yet I was overwhelmed – and I’m very happy that my husband is doing the shopping.

Yesterday I realized how much I take it for granted. I had time to thank the farmers who make sure that we have so much choice.

But sometimes I think: This abundance makes us less grateful. We often only see the numbers on the price tags, not the people behind the products.

And I ask myself – Dilek Karagöl also asked this question a few years ago: Why is culinary diversity so self-evident in this country, while real encounters with a wide variety of people and togetherness are often still a challenge?

Because behind this diversity are many people from different backgrounds who do their part so that we can enjoy all this.

What do you think about our food variety?