Alright, let’s talk about one of my favorite parts of traveling: discovering local cuisine. I mean, for me, food isn’t just something you eat; it’s like this gateway into understanding a place. Every bite tells a story—of culture, of history, of the people who’ve been living there for generations. And the best part? You don’t even have to be a foodie to enjoy it. You just have to be curious.
So, let me walk you through how I approach this. When I get to a new place, the first thing I do is skip the guidebook recommendations. I know, I know, those lists have their place, but I’ve found that the best meals—the most memorable ones—happen when you’re a little more spontaneous. I like to wander, find the markets, the street vendors, the little mom-and-pop restaurants that are tucked away in alleys. You know, the places locals actually go.
Take this trip I did to Portland last year. Everyone talks about the food trucks there, right? And yeah, they’re amazing, but what really blew me away was this tiny Ethiopian restaurant I found completely by accident. I was walking back from Powell’s Books, got lost—classic me—and ended up in this neighborhood I didn’t recognize. There was this little place, no big sign, just a smell of spices wafting out the door. I ordered their veggie combo plate, and let me tell you, it was transformative. I mean, the injera alone was a masterpiece. Tangy, soft, just the right texture to scoop up the lentils and greens. That meal wasn’t just food; it was an experience.
Another rule I live by when I travel: always talk to people. Locals are the best resource for finding hidden culinary gems. One time, I was in Vancouver—so close to home, but still such a foodie paradise—and I struck up a conversation with a barista at this café. I asked where they’d go for a great meal, and they sent me to this izakaya place I never would’ve found on my own. The grilled squid there was next level. It was smoky, tender, just the right amount of char. And, of course, it came with this tangy ponzu sauce that I’m still dreaming about.
Street food is another thing I never skip. It’s quick, it’s cheap, and it’s usually some of the best food you’ll find. Like when I was in Mexico City. Oh man, the tacos. I’m not talking about the fancy sit-down kind—I’m talking about the ones you grab from a stand on a busy corner. I had this al pastor taco, and I swear, it changed my life. The meat was carved fresh off the spit, pineapple juices dripping down, and then they topped it with a sprinkle of onions, cilantro, and a squeeze of lime. I didn’t even need a plate; I just stood there eating it, surrounded by locals on their lunch breaks. That’s the kind of food moment you can’t plan.
I’ve also started taking cooking classes when I travel. It’s such a cool way to connect with a place because you’re not just eating the food—you’re learning how to make it. On one trip to Italy, I signed up for this pasta-making workshop. I thought, okay, I’m just here to roll some dough and eat a nice meal. But no, the instructor took us to the market first, showed us how to pick out fresh ingredients, and explained why each one mattered. By the end of it, I felt like I had this deeper appreciation for every bite of the tagliatelle we made.
And, if you’re into learning more about local food cultures and traditions, I highly recommend checking out this resource from UNESCO on food as intangible cultural heritage. It’s such a fascinating dive into how cuisine shapes identity and how it’s preserved over time. Seriously, give it a read—it’ll make you look at your next meal a little differently.
Anyway, my advice to you is, when you’re traveling, let food be your guide. Follow your nose, trust the locals, and don’t be afraid to try something totally out of your comfort zone. Whether it’s a bustling market stall, a tiny hole-in-the-wall restaurant, or a farm-to-table spot, you’ll find that the flavors you discover are some of the best souvenirs you can bring home.
