There should be a German word for it: that moment when one realises a dessert one has always associated with one country actually belongs to several countries – or perhaps, to none at all.

As a German who has lived in both Australia and New Zealand, I have often found myself caught in the crossfire of the great Pavlova debate. Both nations claim this meringue-based dessert as their own.

It is a curious thing, this antipodean fervour over a dish named after a Russian ballerina.

But it gets even more interesting. In Germany, we have been enjoying Schaumtorte (literally: foam pie) for over two centuries. Essentially, it is Pavlova’s doppelgänger. So, who is appropriating whom?

I recently learned of a new Pavlova Café opening in Berlin.

The twist? It is run by an Estonian company.

Their menu proudly states: “We are the only café worldwide that specialises exclusively in the Pavlova dessert. We offer about 10 different variations of this dessert, all prepared according to the classic recipe: A soft meringue base with a crispy crust, topped with whipped cream and juicy berries.”

Okay then. A café, in Germany, run by an Estonian company, serving an Australian or Kiwi speciality, named after a Russian.

This got me thinking about other instances of culinary confusion. Take Häagen-Dazs, for example. With its umlaut-laden name, one might assume it is a Scandinavian delicacy. In reality, it is as American as apple pie (which, incidentally, is not uniquely American either).

Then there is Hawaiian pizza, a Canadian invention, and French fries, which likely originated in Belgium (or Holland, if you ask the Dutch). Even the California Roll first saw the light of day in Vancouver, not California – and certainly not in Japan even though it is quintessentially sushi.

Meanwhile, Russian dressing is about as Russian as the Moscow Mule cocktail – which is to say, not at all. And Swiss cheese is a generic term for a style utterly foreign to Swiss cheesemakers.

In today’s climate of heightened sensitivity around cultural appropriation, one might expect outrage over these misattributions. Yet, curiously, there are no protests outside Häagen-Dazs shops or petitions to rename Hawaiian pizza.

Whether there will be a similar lack of outrage in New Zealand against Estonian pavlova in Berlin, I am not so sure.

Then again, before anyone considers launching a petition, maybe they should re-think the idea: over a Steinlager.