The journey began with a flight from JFK to Warsaw, my overweight bag bulging with jars of preserves. While waiting for my train east, I ducked into a restaurant Mirali had recommended—fuel for the long trip ahead—before boarding for the border town of Chełm. Hours later, in the dead of night, I stepped off into a silent, empty station not far from Ukraine.

From there, I caught a sleeper train, only to be jolted awake by fully armed soldiers demanding passports. Mine disappeared for what felt like hours before being returned. I shut my eyes again, only to repeat the ritual with a second round of soldiers soon after.

By the next morning, I opened my eyes in Kyiv. Mirali and his GM, Marta, met me at the station and drove me to the hotel. Bags dropped, I headed straight to the restaurant—where the week-long pop-up at Mirali began, inside what is without question the most exciting and forward-looking restaurant in Ukraine.