Global Culinary Adventures: Memorable Food Experiences
During these quiet, still days of hunkering down at home versus traveling, fumbling through my pantry is like taking an adventure through the past. Whether it’s the flaky sea salt from Western Island, mini bottles of Marie Sharp’s Belizean hot sauce, or glass-jarred bottles of tangy Dijon mustard from France, I remember where I’ve been and the places that changed me, all through my senses.
The tingle of peppery aromas filling the air causing my nose to sniffle, the feel of a new-to-me dish thrashing against my tongue and tastebuds, the sounds of bodies moving with fluidity within a kitchen within earshot as I wait for the big reveal of what I’m about to eat – some memories are more alive than others, and some dishes instantly take me back to a place and a moment in time.
1. Guatemala City, Guatemala – May 2019
I was celebrating another year of life in Guatemala City last May. With the intent of blocking out the noise from my work life, I had an out-of-office auto-responder on my email. The way I chose to greet this new year of life I’d been gifted, the miracle that was me still breathing, was to eat as much as possible.
I started off the birthday morning with a cappuccino and a strawberry cinnamon roll from Fado Bakery that had wooden stalls full of pastries to choose from. In my shoddy, shy Spanish, I rattled off my order and ate it on a wooden stool that hurt to sit on, swatting the scores of flies that had appeared. Down the street, I enjoyed duck confit for lunch; the duck was juicy, yet regrettably under-seasoned, while the mashed potatoes were too gummy to be savored. Following that, I had an hours-long siesta until it was dark outside.
Dinner became the pinnacle of the day. I methodically researched and found a restaurant helmed by a woman of Maya descent called La Cocina de Señora Pu. In a former professional life, she was an anthropologist, studying and researching about the Maya historical connections in Guatemala. This remarkable woman cooked in a teeny kitchen, a wood-burning stove directly behind the counter space that fit no more than five people. I sat there after quietly greeting her. For hours, I feasted on grilled beef and shrimp doused in a fragrant red sauce, plated on a banana leaf. She accepted cash only, which I did not have. One of the waiters kindly walked me to a nearby ATM and with a gentle wave wished me well.
2. Warwick, Bermuda – November 2019
Mountains and lakes are my personal preference, but despite that, the beauty of Bermuda still spoke to me. On a Saturday morning during my time there last year, I embarked on a cruise. I joined a group of journalists departing from Darrell’s Wharf in Warwick. The smell of the sea lapping around the boat as we cruised around the island still lingers in my mind. As we cruised, with soca music blaring from the boat’s speakers, we enjoyed a traditional codfish breakfast. Later, upon returning to dry land, we set off on a food tour.
Our stops included cupcakes, and then a massive fish sandwich so gargantuan that I could only manage a few bites. Next was my personal favorite – Baxters. The place was housed in a nondescript building outfitted with a white wrought-iron door. Inside was a carryout restaurant featuring the island’s most talked-about pot pies, made entirely from scratch. The dough, the crust, and the filling – all of it was homemade. You could tell from the flakiness and the rich flavor of butter oozing from each layer, whether you’d chosen mussels, chicken, vegetables, beef, or fish filling. I learned that topping these pies with sweet relish, hot sauce, and mayonnaise was key, and despite my initial hesitance, I devoured my curry mussels pot pie until not a crumb remained.
3. Lagos, Nigeria – December 2019
Lagos, the ancestral homeland of my father and countless generations before him, is a place that sticks with you. The heat and humidity hang over your body like an invisible veil. The constant noise and activity can be draining to juggle for days on end. Traffic, the worst I’ve ever encountered, makes every journey, even short ones, take a minimum of two hours.
After a few days in Lagos, two of my cousins decided to get suya. Prior to this, I’d only heard in passing tales of how delicious it was and how it served as a savory street snack in Lagos. Suya is simply meat cooked on an open flame, dusted with a unique blend of spices, including crushed peanuts, and served with cut red onions.
One of my cousins directed the Uber driver while I relaxed in the back seat. We ended up at Glover Court in Ikoyi, where a crowd of men gathered in front of a red hut. From a distance, I saw a whirlwind of arms in coordination, deftly slicing the onions, cutting the meat, and coating everything with the spice blend before it hit the sizzling grill. The heat from the fire surged every few moments as the wind carried it around the small hut.
When we left, my cousins held the suya wrapped in newspaper like a heralded prize waiting to be claimed. Claim it we did, as we feasted on the succulent meat, our hands muddied with spices and our lips tinged from its heat.
4. Rome, Italy – January 2020
Amidst the noise of countless conversations swirling around me, the sound of water bursting through the front of the Trevi Fountain acted as a soothing buffer. I was in Rome, cradling a cheeseburger from McDonald’s in my right hand, trying to discreetly unwrap it from the crinkly wrapping paper. As darkness settled over the area along with the cold air, I had been convinced to prowl the streets of Rome for a bowl of pasta alle vongole, or spaghetti with clams, with a new friend I’d made in the hostel where I was staying.
Eventually, we found a lovely restaurant with white tablecloths and reasonable prices, despite its fancy appearance. I ordered the spaghetti with clams while she chose something different. We shared laughs, enjoyed glasses of wine, and talked about everything from local sights to bad dates. It was during this night that I felt my heart shift, recognizing the genuine connection formed with someone kind and interesting who I wanted to stay connected with beyond that fleeting moment in the world.
However, four days later, I awoke to find her bed in the hostel empty, leaving behind only her crumpled sheets. The following morning, I departed too. Every so often, a craving emerges for that same delightful dish – al dente linguine noodles entwined with briny clams swimming in a pungent garlic, butter, and wine sauce, dotted with fresh parsley. Yet, it’s less about the food; it’s about the feeling, the company, and the realization that a singular moment crystallized in time made me feel alive, prompting me to leap into new experiences that beckon something beautiful.
And then it does.
