Why this post?
I am aware that having been writing this blog on and off for over six years now, I have never made a post explicitly about food.
I know there are bloggers out there who specialise in the subject … but I suffer enough from imposter syndrome in so many areas, I’m not wanting to add food blogger to the mix.
But, whilst I’m in my air conditioned room in Thailand, trying to get over a severe stomach bug, I realise I have never written about food and travel, despite having plenty of stories.
There have been a few tales I have shared. Most recently, the time I tried to order a sandwich in Madrid and ended up with cuttlefish … here. But I remember many more and I thought I could share some of the mistakes Mr Steev the world’s worst full-time solo traveller has made in order for you not to do the same.
Just because the menu is in English …
This has caught me out a couple of times. I have ordered a burger with chips. I’m British and I know what chips look like – similar to French fries but with more potato.
But no – in many countries (and my first mistake was in Pristina, Kosovo) the server looked at me a bit questioningly, but didn’t say anything and eventually came back with a nice piece of meat on a plate accompanied with a bowl of crisps. Plain crisps – but still crisps. Of course the English menu is mainly read by North Americans there – and to them, chips are crisps and what I think of as chips would be fries. You would think this would be a lesson learned – but I did the same thing again in Romania. Be warned.
Pointing doesn’t always work ...
This one takes me back to pre-journey days when I did a mini three month travel trip to the Baltic States in the 1990s. I was staying at a hotel in Latvia which did not serve meals but there was a small café nearby where I went for lunch. In the days before Google Translate – I would point to the menu on the wall and motion that I wanted to eat the thing pictured, usually soup. I never got what I thought I had ordered. After a couple of days of this, I worked out that I was always getting the ‘picture’ to the right of what I was ordering, so the next day I pointed to the picture on the left. Success and my meal orders for the rest of the week were sorted
What it looks like might not be what it is …
This is another story from my Baltics tour. I had had many buffet breakfasts in Lithuania and Latvia and was used to there always being three types of eggs available – boiled, fried and scrambled. On my first day in Tallinn, Estonia – I fancied scrambled so loaded my plate with toast and other goodies and tackled the eggs, first container was fried, the second boiled and the third had something in which resembled scrambled … I had to admit it seemed a bit light in colour but I nevertheless put a huge dollop on my plate. As I walked back to my table I noticed a few people were looking curiously at me and their eyes never left me as I started to eat. I put a spoonful of the egg onto some toast and tucked in … to some sort of porridge. Although I was aware that people were still staring, I didn’t flinch but carried on eating as if it was really what I had wanted all the time.
In Brazil once (and before my current lactose intolerance kicked in) I wanted to have some mint ice cream. I called into a shop (again before Google Translate) and tried to work out which would be mint. There were only two green ice creams pictured and one was labelled pistache, so I was pretty sure what that was. I ordered the other, abacate variety. I was so disappointed to find out it was avocado … much more so because it wasn’t even sweet.
Remember which country you are in …
This is relevant, as small things around food are so culturally specific. For example in the UK and Ireland – the salt cellar has one hole at the top and the multi-hole container holds the pepper. Not so in many countries, in the Balkan countries and Turkey, for example, it’s the opposite. Try to remember to do a check first and not assume.
Another one is that the level of spiciness varies between countries. After three months in Spain, I got used to asking for ‘very spicy’ when ordering curries etc as the level of spiciness was usually low
Then I moved onto Turkey, and early on, went to a Korean restaurant and was asked for the level of spice. Without thinking, I said, ‘very spicy please.’ It nearly burned the roof of my mouth. I was scrabbling around for drinks just to get through it.
Beware of your intolerances …
I have two food intolerances, neither of which are straightforward. I am lactose intolerant, but this is limited to milk and milk-based yoghurts, cream and (sadly) ice cream. I don’t have a problem with cheese for instance. So when I heard about ayran, a yoghurt-based drink similar to kefir (which I can’t have) and I saw it in Bosnia, I thought I would give it a go, making sure that it was on a day when I would have easy access to a bathroom. Sadly it was not for me – even though I thought it was really delicious and would have loved to have drunk more.
My second intolerance is around my diverticular disease. Over the years I have found that one of my main triggers is small seeds – sesame being the biggest culprit, but also chili and fruit seeds like raspberries and strawberries. Now getting this across in a foreign language is not easy, more so in Asian cuisine restaurants where a liberal sprinkling of sesame seeds could be added to any dish. I have managed over the years to mainly avoid them, but a real failure was when (in Armenia) I really wanted an ice cream and managed to order a lactose-free one. Sadly it was raspberry flavour and full of seeds – but delicious, so I spent a good twenty minutes meticulously picking out the seeds whilst trying to eat the thing before it completely melted, all the time under the curious gaze of the ice cream seller.
Trying (and not trying) the local specialities ...
When in Rome (which is one place I have not visited) … I do like to try the signature dishes of the places I go to and am usually rewarded.
Special mention to arancini in Palermo Sicily and cevapi (meaty skinless sausages) in Pristina, Kosovo. (See above image.) Some things I didn’t try were pig’s testicles, a speciality in Bucharest, Romania (mainly because I didn’t want to have to order them) and I found out the Slovenian franchise restaurants ‘Hot Horse’, serve what they are named after. The diapers (see main photo) in Albania were another miss for me. I’m not sure there was anything I found downright disgusting (a local herbal wine in Krabi Thailand – but that was drink not food) but there are some things I would not rush back for, like the tripe soup in Sofia, Bulgaria.
So those are some of my food-related fails after years of travel around Europe and beyond. One day, I might post a more serious article about travelling with diverticular disease and IBS – useful, but far less fun.
What is your fun story around food and travelling? I would love to hear it. Leave a comment or send me an email.
