Category: Food

There was a time I believed that anything tossed in a bowl and drizzled with olive oil could pass as a Greek salad. In my defense, I was a kid from a mountain village where anything beyond the local fare was as foreign as the idea of a flat Earth. It wasn’t until I found […]

I once thought the French croissant was a gift from the culinary gods, bestowed upon us mere mortals to elevate our breakfast rituals. That was until I found myself in a Parisian boulangerie, staring at a lineup of pastries that seemed far too perfect for their own good. The air was thick with the scent […]

I once found myself at a Tuscan table, the air thick with the aroma of simmering sauces and the banter of animated Italians. My host, an old friend with a penchant for embellishment, regaled us with a tale of how Marco Polo supposedly brought pasta to Italy, a story so well-worn it could double as […]

I once found myself in a cramped, dimly-lit tapas bar in Madrid, elbow-to-elbow with strangers whose names I’d never know, shouting my order over the din of clinking glasses and laughter that could only be described as dangerously infectious. With a menu that read like a cryptic crossword puzzle, I was left to rely on […]

I remember my first foray into La Boqueria like it was yesterday, mostly because it felt like a fever dream fueled by jet lag and sensory overload. Picture this: me, trying to blend in with the locals while simultaneously dodging throngs of tourists wielding selfie sticks like medieval lances. But there I was, stuck between […]

I once found myself tangled in a labyrinth of cobblestone streets in Lisbon, driven by the scent of sardines grilling on open flames. Forget the guidebooks; they were less useful than a broken compass. My feet led me to a bustling market, where vendors hawked their wares with the kind of fervor that makes you […]

I once found myself in Paris, staring at the menu of a chic little bistro, calculating if I could afford a glass of tap water. Spoiler: I couldn’t. This isn’t some romanticized love letter to the city of lights; it’s a gritty survival guide for those of us who want to eat like a Parisian […]

I once thought I knew Greek food. I’d nibble on a limp, soulless salad that had the audacity to call itself “Greek” at some chain restaurant, and I’d think I was cultured. But then, I found myself on a sunbaked island, where an elderly woman with hands like weathered bark shoved a plate of moussaka […]

I once found myself in Istanbul, hopelessly lost in a sea of sizzling grills and hawkers who could smell a foreigner from a mile away. My attempt to blend in was laughable at best—a bumbling tourist trying to barter in a language I barely understood. Imagine me, a mountain kid trying to navigate the chaotic […]

I once believed that food was just sustenance, a means to an end. Then I landed in Lisbon, where every corner seemed to whisper a culinary dare. Picture this: me, a hapless wanderer, clutching a map like it held the secrets of the universe, only to find that the real revelations were tucked inside the […]