I studied abroad in Kansai Prefecture, Japan, in 2007. Tucked into the most unassuming corners of the Osaka train station were patisseries that, I tenderly believed, could compete with the finest in Europe. Each week, I would buy loaves of pillowy milk bread, bacon-stuffed rolls with chives and cheese, and Chantilly cream–filled croissants topped with berries and dusted with powdered sugar. I gained a deep appreciation for the fine interpretations these cooks and chefs gave to French and Italian cuisine.

Similarly tucked away — this time in a shopping center in Glen Allen, Virginia — is Brecotea, a Taiwanese-style bakery. It not only offers gorgeous interpretations of the sweet and savory breads from my memories of living in Asia, but also light and airy desserts, masterful special occasion cakes, and brilliantly crafted fruit and bubble teas, all within a playful and elegant atmosphere.

On my last visit, I chose their potato roll, and I don’t exaggerate when I say that meal visited my dreams for several nights afterward. I was so inspired I decided to try my hand at making a buttery roll stuffed with potato salad and salted pickles at home the following week.

This time, I threw all good sense aside and fully indulged my sweet tooth: I ordered a jasmine milk tea with brown sugar boba, a vanilla Swiss cake roll to enjoy in the café, and packed a box to-go with a pain au chocolat, a mango roll, and a blueberry brioche roll for breakfast the next day.

In Japan, there is a concept that developed from the tea ceremony: the idea that we should be fully present and place value on even the most mundane moments, because this time — this meeting — will never happen again. It’s called “Ichigo Ichie”, which means “one lifetime, one meeting.”

Sitting at the far end of the café, I was surrounded by a soft buzz of languages. At the table nearest mine, three friends with beautifully painted nails laughed over their coffees. A few tables away, a family chatted while their children colored. Across from me, two women in beautifully decorated headscarves shared a book and showed each other photos of loved ones on their phones.

Watching them, I imagined a story: perhaps they were friends from school, separated by time and distance, now reunited and living near each other again. Maybe each had a son, and they were happy knowing that someone who loved them as a girl would now love their little boy just as well.

Brecotea is the kind of place that reminds you food is never just about sustenance — it’s about connection, and how we enriched by breaking bread together.