In Australia I passed up on emu and ostrich, in South Africa I said no thanks to kudu, and more recently in Morocco I could not be talked into breaking my 22+ year streak of not eating meat for a camel burger. But sometimes, when the road takes me to signs like this one in Stockholm, I really wish I could trade my stomach with a carnivore’s so that I could indulge in local grub:
Umm…not exactly. How about Swedish meatballs?
Nej…I opt for a herring plate (silltallrik) instead:
It’s not always easy to find meatless menus everywhere I go, so pastry shops often become my kitchen away from home. When all else fails and after much is lost in translation (try saying “please no meat or dairy” in broken Japanese or Swahili! And no, the iPhone apps do not always have the right translations.), I can always point to the trusty loaf of bread or something sweet that my stomach will recognize. Luckily, in Sweden I had no problem locating a kanelbullar or sweet cinnamon roll anywhere at any time. Thank you, Ikea, for introducing me to this pastry :D!