Memorable Shared Food Experiences Around the Globe

There are few finer things in life than sitting down to enjoy a delicious meal among company. Whether eaten with friends, family, or someone you’ve just met on your travels, good grub can bring us together, allowing lifelong bonds and unforgettable memories to form.

To celebrate the incredible connection between people and plates, our staff reveal their most memorable shared food experiences, from family dinners in Timbuktu to slurping rice wine with the Iban tribe in Malaysian Borneo and attempting to hand-roll couscous in Morocco while managing a language barrier.

Making a mess in Marrakesh, Morocco

A friend and I were relaxing on the terrace of our riad in Marrakesh when a group of women that worked there invited us to join their meal – a giant plate of couscous with delicious stewed veggies and meat in the center. We immediately accepted the invitation and settled down to dig in; the women began rolling together small balls of couscous to pop into their mouths, and, per local custom, they did not use their left hands.

However, this proved to be quite a difficult task – after a few attempts at couscous-ball rolling, I was covered with couscous and had little to show for it. The women tittered good-naturedly and jumped in to assist, rolling the balls for me and lining them up on my side of the plate. Even though none of us spoke the same language, it’s still one of the most memorable meals I’ve ever had.

Bailey Freeman, Destination Editor for South America. Follow her tweets @The_Traveling_B.

A Traditional Tribal Meal in Malaysian Borneo

In truth, I can name only one of the dozen or so dishes that comprised perhaps my most memorable food-sharing experience: a chicken. Why? Because I met it beforehand courtesy of my hosts, the Iban, a tribe who live in the jungles of Sarawak and Sabah, Malaysian Borneo. As the struggling bird was spirited out of sight, the chief of the longhouse poured me my umpteenth glass of tuak (rice wine), which took the edge off the guilt.

Moreover, by the morning, it had taken the edge off everything else, including most of my recollection of the previous night. Although the detail is awfully murky, I can still say with confidence that feasting with the Iban in the wilds of Batang Ai National Park was one of the most entertaining and enlightening travel adventures I’ve ever had. One of the worst hangovers, too.

James Kay, Editor for lonelyplanet.com. Follow his tweets @jameskay123.

Breaking Fast and Barriers in Dubai

At our feet, our Emirati hosts at Dubai’s Sheikh Mohammed Centre for Cultural Understanding began strategically assembling huge silver platters along a rug that stretched the length of the packed room in preparation for iftar, the meal that breaks the fast during the holy month of Ramadan. Just audible through the open door was the day’s penultimate azan, signaling that the meal would soon begin.

Connecting with Emiratis can feel elusive in a country where 90% of the population are expats, but the centre’s mission is to help visitors understand traditional culture and Islam by meeting the most knowledgeable people: the local Emiratis themselves. As soon as we heaped piles of machboos (lamb and rice cooked with cloves and cardamom) and fareeth (a stew filled with thick layers of bread) on our plates, we were invited to ask anything we wanted about their lives in an open Q&A session. In a city both loved and loathed for its opulence, I was astounded and grateful to discover just how deep culture and generosity run here.

Lauren Keith, Destination Editor for Middle East and North Africa. Follow her tweets @noplacelike_it.

Joy of the Spanish Dinner Table in Toledo

I first arrived in Spain with high hopes about my Spanish language skills, only to quickly discover my host’s mum’s dialect and tendency to mumble made her nearly impossible to understand. At meal times, she’d mime food offerings with wild gestures until I’d finally nod, ‘sí, sí, entiendo!’ and sheepishly accept. Food was the centerpiece in Toledo, with each day revolving around meals.

However, dinner time was the most important meal, always served around 9pm, always three courses, and always together with the whole family. Conversation would fill the room – politics, family matters – and the matriarch, Mamá África, wanted to know everyone’s opinion, passing second helpings around whether you’d asked for it or not. There is warmth and love around a Spanish family’s table, and I was welcomed into it with open hearts – always walking away with a very full stomach.

Tanya Parker, Destination Editor for Southeast Asia. Follow her tweets @_TanyaParker.

Serving Local Culture in Timbuktu, Mali

One of the first things I did when I arrived in Timbuktu was hit the tiny post office – could there be a better postmark? The single employee was incredibly kind and invited me to share Tabaski (an Eid al-Adha sacrificial feast) with his family the next day. Soon after arriving at his home, he dressed me in a traditional indigo-colored Tuareg robe.

Soon, we sat outside under shade to enjoy a feast of roasted goat and rice. I followed suit the best I could, plucking meaty morsels from the dish with my right hand, then dipping my fingers into the hot pot of rice, rolling the sticky grains into small balls and eventually perfecting the technique of popping it all into my mouth. It was an enthralling afternoon – I learned about his family, culture, and life in the Sahara, while sharing laughs as I grappled with the local eating etiquette.

Matt Phillips, Destination Editor for Sub Saharan Africa. Follow his tweets @Go2MattPhillips.

Freshest Catch of the Day Among Friends in Fiji

Even in paradise, hangovers can be tough. I was still nursing a sore head after a night filled with rum and kava on Mana Island, Fiji. After manage a bit of hammock snoozing and a sea dip, I joined my dorm mates in the beachfront hostel bar for a game of cards.

As the game of rummy reached its peak, our Fijian hosts appeared and placed a tinfoil package on the table, fragrant steam leaking from its edges; inside was a fish they’d caught that afternoon – fins, eyes, and all. They had cooked it underground, lovo-style, and we followed their lead, eating it together with our bare hands, burning our fingers with each irresistible scoop. Delicious. And my headache? A distant memory.

Emma Sparks, Deputy Editor for lonelyplanet.com. Follow her tweets @Emma_Sparks.

Food, Booze and Festivities in Phonsavan, Laos

After I stated my profession – school teacher – at a guesthouse in Phonsavan in Laos, I was immediately invited to a party at the local ‘golf course’. Although it was a wooden shack, things were lively with home-distilled fire water and a BBQ. Luckily, I had memorized how to say ‘sorry I am a vegetarian’ in Lao, so my friend had to politely chew overcooked – and still hairy – pieces of meat offered to us.

Later, our hosts sang songs detailing how they lived through, and quietly resisted, the American War. All we could manage was an out-of-tune version of ‘Waltzing Matilda’. That night, I realized that in Laos, I was traveling among remarkable resilience and generosity; despite their past, new friends embraced us itinerant falang open-heartedly for the evening.

Tasmin Waby, Destination Editor for Australia and the Pacific. Follow her tweets @TravellingTaz.