A British meat sampler plate. Not sure if blood sausage qualifies as "meat."

“Food is a central activity of mankind and one of the single most significant trademarks of a culture.”
Mark Kurlansky

At home, I generally ate 5 things: cereal, pizza, hamburgers, tacos and peanut butter & jelly sandwiches. There were other meals, of course, but in the course of a week each of those was guaranteed at least once.

Trying to turn me into a foodie is a challenge on par with getting Lindsay Lohan’s rehab to stick.

One of the common requests I’ve gotten since I started traveling is to take photos and write about the food along the way. But I just can’t bring myself to do it. The words aren’t there because I just don’t care.

“That’s why people travel,” was what one friend told me.

Is it? Not for me. I hate food. I eat as a maintenance activity like showering, brushing my teeth or watching porn.

Travel and food are inextricably linked for many people. On any given day, you could tune in to The Travel Channel and be hard pressed to tell if you were actually watching the Food Network, except the latter includes infomercials for The Tater Mitt and Onion Blossom Maker.

I love exploring other cultures – the history, the artwork, the lifestyle. But when it comes to the food, I’m just not that interested.

Paella for a busload of Tomatina-survivors.

Its importance to travelers is understandable. Food is a cornerstone of a culture and to appreciate a destination, you should be exposing yourself to new things that are important to the people you’re around. That’s why one of the first goals I set out for myself in traveling the world was to dive in and try the local food. (Read: Confessions of a Cultural Idiot Part 1)

For two months I’ve been trying. Blood sausage in England, paella in Spain with types of fish I’d never even heard of, Roquefort cheese (aka mold) in my crepe in France. I’ve eaten a number of things that were never on my radar in the U.S. and I haven’t even gotten to the countries with food that’s really outside of my comfort zone.

For some reason, though, my food experiences are almost always “meh” inducing. It’s not that I hate the foods I’ve eaten, it just doesn’t make any kind of impact on me whatsoever.

To be honest, at times I’m ashamed of myself – so many cultures consider the meal a primary component of their lives and I feel like I’m missing out, but I’m not sure how to change it.

What do you think? Am I doing something wrong? Does anyone else travel with no regard to eating their way around the world?