My husband Scott and I celebrated our second anniversary last week by taking a trip to Atlanta. Of course, our main motivation for visiting that city was to eat.

I love Baldwin County, and I enjoy seafood. I really, really do. I like raw oysters, shrimp cocktail, fried fish and gumbo. But every now and then, I just need some variety. In larger cities, there is more diversity, and with diversity comes a wide range of authentic foods from all over the world.

I've written before about how sad it is that we don't even have an Indian restaurant in Baldwin County, and others have lamented the lack of true Mexican fare. And there are hundreds of other cuisines we're missing out on that we don't even know exist.

In Atlanta, they have it all, y'all.

Our plan was to get Indian, sushi and real tacos. However, we only had the tacos — the options ended up being so diverse that going out for Indian and sushi seemed bland.

One day for lunch, I had the best falafel of my life at a hole-in-the wall Turkish restaurant in Little Five Points called Ali Babba Mediterranean Deli — served to me by a man who was actually from Turkey, I might add. He crumbled falafel into a pita and wrapped it up with fresh cucumbers, tomatoes and hummus. I chose baklava for my side item, of course. Scott had a lamb gyro, and we ate in a small room decorated with cheap Turkish trappings. My little heart was almost bursting with joy from the experience — Turkey is No. 1 on my “places I want to visit one day” list.

On our anniversary, we made reservations at a French place called Babette's Café. After devouring a freshly baked baguette slathered with the most wonderful butter I've ever tasted, I ordered deep, flavorful escargot as a starter and boef bourgignon as my main course. We finished by sharing a classic crème brûlée, my absolute favorite dessert.

Eating boef bourgignon prepared by a restaurant instead of by me was a special experience. Julia Child and French cook Jaques Pépin were my culinary teachers (on PBS) when I first began experimenting in the kitchen, so I've wrangled with boef bourgignon a few times. It was nice to enjoy it without all that work.

The crown jewel of our multicultural eating extravaganza was a restaurant I accidentally found while Googling Atlanta restaurants.

Four years ago, I traveled to Tunisia, a small North African country, for four weeks. The food there was fabulous — heavy on bold, spicy flavors along with tuna, tomatoes, lamb, cous cous and all kinds of vegetables— and I haven't experienced it since I left. I especially miss Tunisians' condiment of choice, a sauce made from dried peppers and spices called harissa.

Just to see, I Googled “North African restaurants Atlanta,” and to my surprise, a Tunisian restaurant called Cous Cous Atlanta was first on the list. The restaurant opened in August 2013 and had great reviews. I made a reservation online because there was absolutely no way we were missing out on Tunisian food.

When we arrived, we were the only people in the restaurant. My heart sank — what if the food is terrible and not really Tunisian? Why is it empty?

But as soon as I started talking to our waiter, who was from Tunisia's capital, I knew we were in for a good experience.

The first item we ordered was kefteji, a Tunisian classic made from potatoes, peppers, pumpkin, spices and harissa. Each ingredient is usually fried separately and then combined on a plate or in a pita in Tunisia, but to make it fit into an American fine dining atmosphere, the chef at Cous Cous roasts butternut squash, potatoes, tomatoes and onions and combines them with the spices and harissa. It was a flavor explosion.

We also shared a delicious bowl of cous cous, made in a real couscoussier, a double chambered food steamer used to make cous cous in North Africa. Our server then reminded me of a Tunisian dish I had forgotten about — brika. It's a Tunisian pastry turnover stuffed with potatoes, tuna, parsley, cheese and eggs.

To top it all off, the chef came out of the kitchen after our meal and talked to me about Tunisia. He gladly told me the secret to making real harissa at home — soaked dried guajillo peppers, coriander, cumin, water and a little olive oil all mixed in a blender.

Food is such a wonderful way to learn about other cultures. People love to share their way of cooking with others, whether in a restaurant or in their home. Some of the greatest learning experiences of our lives happen around a dinner table. I learned a lot about food and other people in the big city.

It's my hope that as more people from all over the world move to Baldwin County, we can embrace the differences and changes and enjoy diverse culinary choices while learning about each other through the food we eat.

But Atlanta… you can keep the traffic.