The World, One Bite at a Time

Eat what they cook. Drink what they pour. Walk the streets, ask the questions, learn the names, and listen harder than you speak. The best travel does not just show you the world. It reminds you that you are part of it, and responsible for what you leave behind. - Scott Barlow

I would never call myself a foodie. I do not plan trips around tasting menus, and I am not chasing Michelin stars from country to country. But I do love trying the food of a place, because food is often one of the fastest and most memorable ways to understand where you are.

I am also realistic about it. I will try almost anything once, but I think about safety. I have no food allergies, which helps, but I am always aware of water sanitation, ice, undercooked food, and the risks that can come with street food. Curiosity matters, but so does common sense. Even with that caution, some of my best travel memories are tied to food.

Certain foods instantly bring me back to the places where I found them. In Vietnam, it was bánh mì, a perfect mix of bread, herbs, pickled vegetables, meat, and spice. In El Salvador, it was pupusas, thick handmade corn tortillas stuffed with cheese, beans, pork, or loroco, usually served with curtido and salsa. In Thailand, the obvious anchor is Pad Thai, while Shanghai takes me right back to soup dumplings, those little bites that somehow manage to hold a full experience inside.

In Japan, one of my most memorable food moments was unagi, fresh eel that turned out to be far better than I expected. In Singapore, the standout was chili crab, rich, messy, and worth every bit of effort. In Malaysia, nasi lemak stood out as comfort food with layers. In Bali, kopi luwak is one of those things you try partly because it is famous, partly because it is unusual, and partly because travel occasionally convinces you that unusual experiences make great stories.

Elsewhere, food became just as much a part of the trip as the scenery or landmarks. Peru gave me ceviche, bright and fresh and instantly tied to Lima. Argentina gave me asado, one of the clearest examples of a meal being part of national identity. Honduras gave me baleadas, simple and satisfying in the best way. Nicaragua gave me gallo pinto and Flor de Caña, a pairing that feels like the country itself in flavor form. Iceland gave me hákarl, fermented shark, which is culturally interesting, historically important, and absolutely a one-time experience. Some foods become favorites. Others become stories. That one was definitely a story.

The more I travel, the more I appreciate that I do not need to be a food expert to understand the role food plays in a place. A local dish reflects geography, history, culture, necessity, and pride. It tells you what grows there, what people value, and what traditions have been passed down. For me, these foods are more than meals. They are markers in memory.

• Vietnam: Bánh mì
• El Salvador: Pupusas
• Thailand: Pad Thai
• Shanghai / China: Soup dumplings (xiaolongbao)
• Japan: Unagi
• Singapore: Chili crab
• Malaysia: Nasi lemak
• Bali / Indonesia: Kopi luwak
• Peru: Ceviche
• Argentina: Asado
• Honduras: Baleadas
• Nicaragua: Flor de Caña and gallo pinto
• Iceland: Hákarl (fermented shark)

Looking back, I realize the foods do not just remind me of meals. They remind me of where I was, who I met, what I was willing to try, and what I learned by paying attention. I may never become a true foodie, but I do believe food is one of the most honest ways to experience a place. Sometimes the world changes you through mountains, temples, safaris, beaches, and ruins. Sometimes it does it with a sandwich.