It took me a while to stop looking for a proper doner kebab. There are places that will sell you something under that name. It is not the thing. Fish and chips is the same story: a handful of places do it properly, you learn which ones, and everywhere else is doing an impression.
I still miss Pukka Pies. You can't get them here at all. That one I've made peace with in roughly the way you make peace with weather.
What replaced all of it was shawarma, and shawarma taught me something the imports never did. It has to be eaten where it was made, more or less the minute it's handed to you. Order the same thing to the house and it arrives technically correct and completely wrong. The bread has gone soft, the heat has gone out of it, and you're eating the memory of a good sandwich.
So it never really was a substitution. At some point I stopped wanting a badly reproduced version of home and started eating what is actually good here, on its own terms, standing up, near where it was made.
Coffee went the same way. I've stopped going to the big chains entirely, and not out of any principle to begin with, just because the small local places are better at it. That has quietly turned into a general habit.
Turns out I wasn't homesick for the food. I was homesick for knowing where to go.