Chiang Mai is a great foodie city, with a wide range of dining options and an even wider range of price points. It is possible to spend a single dollar on a good meal, and is seemingly difficult to spend $100.
For a guy who could eat Thai food every day for the rest of his life, I am in food heaven. Noodles, many different curries, tons of fresh tropical fruit, and Thai style tea and coffee are always within an easy walk.
We’ve done our best to explore the breadth in our 10 days and counting. This is what we’ve enjoyed so far.
Exploring Taipei, you never know what is around the next corner. It could be a beautiful modern building, an ancient traditional temple, or more likely both of them side by side. Taipei has embraced the hustle and bustle of modern capitalism, and yet maintained traditional, more personal ways of doing business
Just a 5 minute walk from our apartment is a long standing traditional market. Vendors as old as the market itself arrive daily to sell fresh produce and freshly slaughtered meat, the way their parents did business, all in the shadow of one of the world’s tallest buildings
Exploring the numerous Taipei dining options is a big task. Thousands of restaurants, food carts, and street vendors offer nearly every dish from across the globe, making it possible to have a hamburger, hummus, and haggis all in the same day.
Buy we are in Asia, so let’s feast Asian style!
Here are 3 more great meals we’ve shared in Taipei
Taipei is a culinary lovers’ dream. With offerings ranging from quick snacks served in dark alleys to Michelin rated multi-course meals surrounded in elegance, this cosmopolitan metropolis has it all and at a price that won’t break the bank
With a varied political and culinary history, Taiwan offers diners food from across Asia and beyond, with strong influences from Japan and Southeastern China.
With all of this along with delights that are pure Taiwan, it was difficult to narrow it down to just 3 meals. Here are the 3 that rose to the top (more…)
“Wow, that place smells great! Let’s go check it out!”, growled my stomach.
The lunch hour was well behind us and the smells of slow-cooked meat were wafting out the door, carried on waves of loud Latin beats. Hidden in the faded paint on the wall we could barely make out the word Barbacoa and a picture of a sheep. My stomach growled again
The place was packed, with rows upon rows of well-worn wooden tables filled to capacity with older men in dirty flannel. A waiter cleared off a small table covered in empty beer bottles and soiled napkins, seating us with an easy view of 3 different soccer matches on the wall-mounted flat screens.
This place was seriously local. My skin color was the palest by several shades, and through the dim light and smoky haze I stood out like a sore thumb. Our neighbors to our right immediately engaged us in conversation in a broken mix of Spanish, Tsotsil, and Tseltal (the 2 most common local Mayan languages) that was truly dizzying. “Where are you from?” “Welcome to Mexico!” “You like it here?”
We sipped our warm stale beer from Dixie cups as we waited for our order of tacos, and did our best to participate in the verbal barrage coming our way. Two of our new friends didn’t speak Spanish any better than we did, and the 3rd as self-appointed ambassador did his best to share their questions, difficult as it might be with alcohol hindered enunciation. For 2:00 pm on a Sunday, he was sauced. Hell, for 2 am on a Friday he was sauced