When food becomes a journey: inside NOMAD Restaurant

Blog 01.03.2026

 "Do you remember that night in Bangkok in December 2023?" Anna asks, her eyes lighting up as she leans across the table. "The one where we stumbled upon that tiny street stall and tasted something that completely changed how we thought about food?"
 
Philippe nods, a knowing smile spreading across his face. "How could I forget? That was the moment we realized food isn't just about where you're from—it's about everywhere you've been."
 
This conversation between Anna and Philippe, the co-founders of NOMAD restaurant in Warsaw, captures the essence of what happens when travel transforms your palate. After spending 12 years in Thailand, they returned to Poland with more than just memories and souvenirs. They brought back a radical idea: what if traditional European cooking could dance with bold Asian flavours? What if your grandmother's recipe could shake hands with Bangkok street food?
 
The result is NOMAD—a restaurant that refuses to stay put, culinarily speaking.
 
The birth of a culinary adventure
 
Anna pours two glasses of wine as she reflects on their journey. "We left Warsaw thinking we'd be gone for maybe a year or two. But Thailand had other plans for us."
 
"It wasn't just the food," Philippe adds, settling into his chair. "It was the entire approach to eating. The fearlessness. The way Thai cooks would throw together ingredients that, on paper, shouldn't work—and yet somehow created magic."
 
For over a decade, Anna and Philippe immersed themselves in Southeast Asian food culture. They learned from street vendors in Bangkok, studied with home cooks in rural villages, and absorbed techniques that had been passed down through generations. But they never forgot their European roots.
"We'd find ourselves craving pierogis," Anna laughs. "But after years of eating galangal and lemongrass, going back to purely traditional recipes felt... incomplete."
 
This tension between heritage and experience became the foundation for NOMAD's concept. They weren't interested in creating "fusion" for the sake of novelty. Instead, they wanted to honour both traditions—European and Asian—by letting them influence each other naturally.
 
What makes food culture "nomadic"?
 
Philippe gestures animatedly as he explains their intent. "Nomadic food culture isn't about randomly mixing ingredients from different countries. It's about understanding how flavours travel, adapt, and transform."
 
"Exactly," Anna interjects. "Think about how tomatoes came from the Americas to Italy, or how chili peppers made their way to Thailand from South America. Food has always been nomadic. We're just being honest about it."
 
This approach manifests in unexpected ways at NOMAD. A classic Polish barszcz might be brightened with a hint of lime leaf. Polish, Italian and French techniques meet Thai herbs. Italian pasta embraces fish sauce. Each dish tells a story of movement, adaptation, and creative collision.
 
"We're not trying to improve traditional recipes," Philippe clarifies. "We're asking: what if these traditions had met earlier? What conversations would they have had?"
 
The menu at NOMAD shifts with the seasons, reflecting both Warsaw's agricultural calendar and the couple's evolving culinary experiments. Spring brings asparagus with unexpected aromatic twists. Autumn features game meats paired with tamarind and palm sugar. Winter sees hearty European stews spiked with galangal and kaffir lime.
 
Building community, one plate at a time
 
Anna's expression softens when discussing the restaurant's role in Warsaw's food scene. "We wanted NOMAD to feel like someone's dining room—just one where incredibly interesting things happen to be cooking."
 
The restaurant sources ingredients locally whenever possible, building relationships with Polish farmers and producers. "There's this amazing woman who grows heirloom tomatoes about 50 kilometers from Warsaw," Philippe shares. "When she brings us her harvest, we challenge ourselves: how can we honour what she's grown while introducing unexpected elements?"
 
This commitment to local sourcing isn't just about sustainability—it's about storytelling. Each ingredient becomes a character in the larger narrative of nomadic food culture.
 
"Our customers aren't just eating dinner," Anna explains. "They're participating in a conversation between cultures, between traditions, between past and present."
 
The restaurant's atmosphere reinforces this sense of journey and discovery. Warm lighting, communal seating options, and an open kitchen invite diners to become part of the experience rather than passive observers.
 
The technical side of cultural translation
 
Philippe becomes more animated when discussing the practical challenges of their approach. "You can't just dump fish sauce into bigos and call it a day. You have to understand what each ingredient does, why it works in its original context, and how to introduce it respectfully into a new one."
 
This requires deep technical knowledge of both European and Asian cooking methods. The team at NOMAD has spent years experimenting, failing, and refining their techniques.
 
"We've probably made a hundred versions of some dishes," Anna admits. "There was this one beef dish where we were trying to incorporate lemongrass. It took us six months to get it right—to find the point where you could taste both traditions clearly, without either one dominating."
 
The kitchen maintains a delicate balance between precision and intuition. Classic techniques provide structure, while Thai sensibilities introduce improvisation and boldness. Polish heartiness meets Southeast Asian brightness. Italian elegance encounters Thai complexity.
 
Why Warsaw? Why now?
 
"Warsaw is ready for this," Anna states confidently. "The city has been through so much transformation. People here understand what it means to evolve while respecting your roots."
 
Philippe agrees. "There's also this incredible openness in Warsaw right now. Young people especially—they've travelled, they've experienced different food cultures, and they're excited about something that reflects their own nomadic experiences."
 
The restaurant taps into a broader cultural moment where identity feels more fluid, where belonging to one place doesn't mean rejecting experiences from elsewhere. NOMAD's success suggests that diners are hungry—quite literally—for food that reflects the complexity of contemporary life.
 
"We're all nomads now, in a way," Anna muses. "Even if we haven't physically travelled, we've been exposed to global influences through media, through friends, through the internet. Our palates have become nomadic even if our bodies haven't."
  
Looking forward
 
As they contemplate NOMAD's future, both Anna and Philippe radiate excitement mixed with humility.
 
"We're not trying to start a movement or change how everyone cooks," Anna clarifies. "We're just following our curiosity and hoping people want to come along for the ride."
 
Philippe envisions expanding NOMAD's community engagement—perhaps hosting cooking workshops where customers can learn about both traditional techniques and nomadic adaptations. "Food education is so important. When people understand why we make certain choices, they appreciate the dishes more deeply."
 
They're also considering a cookbook that would document their journey and share their approach. "Not recipes, exactly," Anna muses. "More like a roadmap for thinking about food differently. A guide to culinary nomadism."
 
But their immediate focus remains on the restaurant itself—on continuing to surprise, delight, and challenge their guests.

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What NOMAD teaches us about identity The conversation winds down as evening approaches, but Philippe has one final thought to share. "NOMAD is obviously about food, but it's also about something bigger. It's about how we navigate identity when we've been shaped by multiple places, multiple cultures. You don't have to choose between your grandmother's recipes and the dishes you fell in love with on the other side of the world. You can honour both." Anna raises her glass. "To nomadic spirits, wherever they roam—and whatever they cook."