From Takeout to Trying My Own Hand
If you had told me ten years ago that one of the most rewarding parts of traveling the world would be cooking, I probably would’ve laughed. Back then, my cooking skills didn’t go much further than ordering takeout in Brooklyn and knowing which pizza places delivered the fastest. But as I started traveling more and living as a remote worker, food quickly became more than just something to eat—it became a way to connect with people and understand places on a deeper level.
What surprised me most is how cooking turned into a bridge between my two lives: my home base in Brooklyn and the cities I explore across the globe. Learning local recipes has given me a new rhythm to my travels and, honestly, a new way to live.
A Kitchen Is the Heart of a Place
One of the first times I felt this connection was in Oaxaca, Mexico. I took a local cooking class where the host family welcomed me into their home kitchen. We made mole from scratch, grinding spices by hand and layering flavors that I’d only ever tasted in restaurants back in New York. It was messy, fun, and way more complicated than I expected. But in the middle of all that chopping and stirring, I felt something shift. I wasn’t just learning a recipe—I was being invited into a culture.
Since then, I’ve made it a point to cook wherever I go. In Thailand, I learned to make green curry paste with a mortar and pestle that left my arms sore for days. In Italy, I rolled pasta under the guidance of a grandmother who didn’t speak English, but whose laughter and gestures said more than words ever could. Each kitchen, no matter how small or humble, showed me something about the people who lived there and what they valued.
Cooking as a Way of Remembering
Travel is incredible, but the truth is, memories fade. Details blur. Cities start to blend together when you’ve been on the road long enough. But food—food has a way of sticking with you.
Back in Brooklyn, I find myself recreating recipes I learned abroad. When I make shakshuka, I’m reminded of long breakfasts in Tel Aviv. When I attempt a Spanish tortilla, I’m back in a bustling market in Madrid, watching vendors shout over one another. Cooking has become a way of keeping my travels alive long after the plane lands. It’s also a way of sharing those experiences with friends. Inviting people over for a home-cooked meal inspired by my trips feels like inviting them into the journey itself.
The Mistakes Matter as Much as the Wins
Let me be clear: I am not a professional chef. I’ve burned rice, undercooked chicken, and even once set off a smoke alarm in a tiny Airbnb in Lisbon. But those mistakes are part of the fun. Cooking abroad, especially with unfamiliar ingredients and limited tools, forces you to be resourceful. Sometimes that means substituting spices, sometimes it means laughing at yourself when the dish doesn’t turn out.
The imperfections have taught me more than the perfect dishes ever could. They’ve taught me patience, creativity, and the importance of letting go of control. And they’ve reminded me that cooking, like travel, isn’t about perfection—it’s about the experience.
Brooklyn as a Test Kitchen
Living in Brooklyn has made all of this even more exciting. The borough is already a melting pot of cultures, with specialty shops, international groceries, and markets that carry ingredients from every corner of the world. If I want to find Thai basil, Turkish spices, or Ethiopian teff flour, I don’t have to board a plane—I can often find it within a subway ride.
Cooking at home has become a way to merge my travels with my daily life. My kitchen has become a kind of test lab where I experiment with dishes I learned abroad. Sometimes I succeed, sometimes I don’t, but every time I feel like I’m bringing a little piece of the world back to Brooklyn with me.
Food as Connection
At the end of the day, cooking across cultures has taught me that food is one of the most universal ways we connect. Even when you don’t speak the language, you can bond over chopping vegetables or tasting something together. Even when you’re far from home, the smell of a familiar spice can make you feel grounded.
For me, learning local recipes isn’t just about the flavors—it’s about the stories behind them. It’s about the grandmother who taught me how to roll pasta, the friend who showed me how to grill kebabs over charcoal, or the street vendor who explained the secret to perfect dumplings. Those moments of connection are what travel is really about.
Travel used to be about ticking destinations off a list for me. Now, it’s about what I can learn and carry forward. Cooking has transformed the way I move through the world. It slows me down, invites me to listen, and lets me take something meaningful home beyond souvenirs and photos.
From my small kitchen in Brooklyn to kitchens around the world, cooking has become a thread that ties it all together. It’s messy, delicious, sometimes humbling, and always worth it. More than anything, it’s shown me that the best way to truly understand a place isn’t just to see it—it’s to taste it and, when you can, to make it yourself.