s new Ultimate Eatlist ranks the world's best food experience as eating pintxos in San Sebastian, Spain. We think these moments would give that a run for its money ...
The ubiquitous tiny plastic stools and tables of Vietnamare perfectly suited for someone of my stature. But even if you're not extremely short, you'll appreciate the amazing food served upon them. Every day of my trip brought a new delicacy, from the egg and chilli banh mi on my first day in Ho Chi Minh City, to crispy bahn xeo crepes in Hoi An,to the delicious mystery soup in Hue with tiny eggs that apparently came from "little chickens"—and of course, all the local beers. And the best part is, it's all incredibly cheap and super fresh and fragrant. Warning: It absolutely ruins you for Vietnamese food back home with New Zealand prices.
— Eli Orzessek
We had spent a wonderful day exploring Lucca, Tuscany's most beautiful city—but the owner of the wine bar didn't seem too happy to be serving us. After a couple of minutes of surly glares and awkward conversations, he stumbled across a key fact about us: "Ah! You're not Americans! I'm so sorry!" Suddenly, he was all smiles and offering heavy pours of fabulous local wines. Our new amico disappeared out the back briefly, returning to bring us a platter of cheeses served with the mostinsanely delicious truffle-infused honey. I'd never had a proper taste oftruffles and this airy, musky magic was a revelation for my uncultured taste buds. "How much, mate?" "No charge."
— Winston Aldworth
After having Mexico on my dream travel list for years, I was slightly disappointed to get to Isla Mujeres and find itwas full of Spring Break-ing teens and theworst kind of American tourists. There were more Italian restaurants on the main streetthan there were Mexican ones. Walking into a dimly lit, side street bar, my friend Alice and I were the only visitors in a room full of locals. Sitting at the bar, drinking icy bottles of Pacifico, we got talking to a young guy and asked him where we could find the most authentic Mexican food. He took us outside, hailed a taxi, spoke to the driver in rapid-fire Spanish, then sent us on our way. We had no idea what he said orwhere the driver was taking us— were we about to be sold to a Mexican drug cartel? Luckily, no. We ended up at a tiny cafe at the other end of the island, far away from the tourist traps, eating the best chicken tortilla soup, tostados and tacos of my life. The bill came to around $5. Ihave no idea what it was called, or how to find it again, but I will never forget the best Mexican meal of my life.
— Stephanie Holmes