nostalgie de pays

I was wandering away from the local chemists this morning and found an old Ricola sweet in my pocket, slightly macerated but still suckable, a comfort for ear ache.  I remember my mother being much taken with a TV advert for this herbal sweet - a man on a Swiss alp shouts "Ricola"  and it reverberates across the mountains; it impressed my mother enough for her to think of buying Ricola.  And in small ways like this my mother (and my father) would reveal glimpses of a nostalgie de pays under the surface of adaptation to being British - ah yes, they were British, not English.