The Frustration of Being a Non-Foodie Traveler

This post may contain affiliate links. If you make a purchase through these links, we will earn a small commission at no extra cost to you. For more information, please check our privacy policy. Thanks!

Well into my seventh decade, I realized I really don’t like many foods. I love Mexican, Italian, and Chinese food, or at least their American adaptations. And of course, being a Western New York girl, chicken wings and beef-on-weck hold special places in my heart. My tastes and my taste buds are simple and aren’t likely to change.

Yet I frequently run into fellow travelers who want to impose their food choices on me. They really want me to eat street food, local favorites, spicy food, or all three.

Take the English woman Steve and I met in Chiang Mai. She was baffled that we had zero interest in street food, and she kept at it, insisting we must try it, that it was far superior to anything served in an actual restaurant. We smiled. We declined. She persisted.

Some people stick to extolling the virtues of local dishes. I’m not opposed to trying something new and have many times, but I don’t want food pushed on me.

And don’t even get me started on the condescension of spicy food lovers towards those of us who prefer our meals without oral discomfort. They act shocked when you decline to incinerate your tongue. Just leave me to my bland food, please.

I just want to eat what I want without the judgment.

Give Me a Full-Size Chair and Hold the Bone

During seven months in Southeast Asia, Steve and I opted out of eating street food because of concerns about the hygiene. We don’t feel comfortable eating at an outdoor restaurant where the dishes are washed in tubs on the street.

Are we being overly cautious? Perhaps, but we prefer some ambiance and the illusion of better cleanliness in a restaurant with an indoor kitchen.

While texting with a fellow nomad, he mentioned that he and his partner don’t eat street food either as the partner is concerned about hygiene. It’s good to know it’s not just us.

The other issue we have with street food is the setting. Squatting on tiny plastic chairs isn’t my idea of a dining experience.

We made several trips to Chinatown during our time in Kuala Lumpur. We loved the energy of the area, Steve loved the markets, and I loved the street art. We did not love the look of the various eateries and would go there between mealtimes.

Then on one visit we were getting hungry. We thought we’d go back to our apartment to eat, but Steve noticed a lovely-looking restaurant. We had a great lunch at Mona Lisa.

Giving In to Street Food

We were checking out the Sunday Walking Street market in Chiang Mai, Thailand, when hunger struck. I was attracted to the tasty-looking dumplings and decided to live dangerously. I ordered several, scarfed them down with soy sauce, and declared them good enough to get again.

The second time I ordered them and got a little surprise. There was a small piece of bone in one of them.

This just reinforced my decision to avoid street food.

Hold the Spice, Really Hold It

Spicy food is another area where people often try to impose their preferences on others. If you love spicy food, that’s great. For you. I prefer to taste the food I’m eating and not have a runny nose or tear-filled eyes in the process.

My finickiness came to a head in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Malaysian food is spicy. Maybe not the spiciest in the world, but definitely near the top. My first indication that I might have a problem was when Steve and I were at a large food court in the Pavilion KL Mall. We randomly chose a vendor and asked for dishes that weren’t spicy. With my first bite, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to eat it.

I took it back to the counter and said it’s too spicy, I would like to order something else. I was more than willing to pay for a second dish, but the vendor kindly replaced it free of charge. The new dish was less spicy than the first, but still had a bit of a kick.

My next unsatisfactory experience was at an Indian restaurant in the KL Tower. There was a buffet, and I was reassured that there were several non-spicy items on it. I discovered that non-spicy is a relative term in Malaysia. The only non-spicy dish was the white rice. It did come in handy to cut the intensity of the other dishes.

I have had Indian food in other cities, and while it is not a cuisine I particularly enjoy, I was able to get tasty, yet mild dishes.

As a spice-avoider, my favorite meals in Kuala Lumpur were fajitas at Poblano (a Mexican restaurant we ate at three times), filet mignon at Gravy Baby, and salmon at Mona Lisa in Chinatown. Good times.

Expanding My Horizons in South America

I am not a complete wimp when it comes to trying new foods. I fell in love with ceviche when Steve and I visited many South American cities in 2019.

I had a minor hang-up with this because its main ingredient is raw seafood. The seafood is “cooked” by being marinated in citrus juices. But my first taste of ceviche shoved that concern out of my mind.

Although ceviche is a Peruvian dish, we had it in several South American countries. Each time we had it, it was different, but each time it was also spectacular.

We returned to South America in 2026 for a twelve-week stay in Lima, Peru. I had ceviche several times, and every one was heavy on the lime juice and they were all the same.

No doubt this is the true ceviche, but it is certainly not my favorite.

Sometimes You Just Go with the Unappetizing Flow

When presented with a menu of regional dishes, I often wimp out and go with the tried and true. I know I’ll enjoy the fish and chips. But sometimes you have no choice.

When we spent the day at Mega Grand World Hanoi, an over-the-top (in a good way) European-inspired entertainment complex, we stopped at one of the few restaurants open for lunch.

Apparently, Mega Grand World is meant to attract locals. We were quite the curiosity in the restaurant we chose. There were only a few customers, so three young men attended to our needs. They didn’t speak English and our Vietnamese is limited to the basics, so we relied on Google Translate.

This was the oddest dining experience I’ve ever had. There was a lot on the menu, so we weren’t ready to order right away. I indicated that we needed a few minutes to look at the menu, first holding up a finger. That didn’t compute, so I pointed to my wrist and then my eyes, signaling that I needed time to look at the menu. They didn’t get that either. They were young, so maybe pointing to my wrist made no sense to them.

All three waiters stood by, watching us decipher the menu for several minutes. I appreciate good service, and I love that they were curious about the Americans in their restaurant, but it sure was awkward.

We chose a dish and were assured it wasn’t spicy. We asked what kind of meat we would get. We were told it was pork, and it was. It was deep-fried pork belly, a fatty cut of pork. Neither of us would have ordered it if we had known, so we slogged through our meal.

At least it wasn’t spicy.

Until Next Time

If this resonates with you drop a comment below and share your food-related travel experiences. And if you think I’m missing out, feel free to comment too. Just know, you’re unlikely to change my mind.

May your meals be everything you want and free from outside interference.

Happy traveling,
Linda

If you enjoyed this post, please consider subscribing below. You’ll get a subscriber only newsletter every month and an email notification each time we publish a new post. If you know someone who may be interested in my content, please let them know about Wind and Whim. Thank you.