I ate my way across Europe with a small backpack and a bigger appetite. I made mistakes. I ate late, I ate early, I ate standing up on little sidewalks. And you know what? I’d do it again.
While bouncing from city to city on my own, I sometimes tapped queer-friendly online communities to find last-minute dinner buddies and local food tips; the rundown of the best gay hookup sites can connect solo travelers to welcoming locals who are happy to recommend (or share) a great meal.
If your route ever loops through Nebraska before or after your European feast, you can score the same kind of on-the-ground intel—pop over to Backpage Kearney to chat with locals who happily steer visitors toward the city’s best hidden lunch counters, craft-beer taps, and late-night pie spots.
For a deeper dive into Europe's countless local specialties, I keep Tasting Europe bookmarked—it lets you search dishes by country and even by tiny towns.
I even wrote a fuller travelogue combining all ten plates with notes and photos—you can peek at the complete story here.
Here are the ten dishes that stuck with me—some perfect, some flawed, all real.
1) Neapolitan Pizza in Naples, Italy
My first bite was at a tiny spot near Via Tribunali. The crust was soft in the middle and blistered at the edge. The sauce tasted like sun and salt. Simple, but bold.
The good: the chew, the char, that clean tomato taste.
The bad: my second pie came a bit soggy in the center. I didn’t mind, but my friend did. It’s a knife-and-fork deal.
Tip: order a Margherita. Skip extra toppings. Let the dough speak.
2) Croissant in Paris, France
I stood outside a boulangerie in the 11th, still in my scarf, and tore a warm croissant right in half. The steam hit my face. Butter all through the layers.
The good: crisp shell, soft fold after fold.
The bad: I had one later from a busy café. It tasted a bit greasy and flat. Fresh matters here.
Tiny note: ask for “beurre.” You want the butter one. Trust me.
3) Paella in Valencia, Spain
I sat by the beach and watched the pan come off the flame. The rice had that toasted socarrat at the bottom. The broth hugged every grain.
The good: saffron, tender rabbit and chicken, bright lemon.
The bad: tourist paella can be mushy. I had one with rubbery shrimp. It made me grumpy.
Tip: real paella is for lunch, not dinner. And it’s not soupy.
A chilled glass of bubbles on the side doesn’t hurt; if you’re curious about what to pour, this rundown of Spanish sparkling wine points you toward bottles worth packing in your beach tote.
4) Pierogi in Kraków, Poland
A rainy night. A small place near the Market Square. I ordered half potato and cheese, half sauerkraut and mushroom. Browned in butter, with onion on top.
The good: pillowy, cozy, like a hug in a bowl.
The bad: very filling. I learned not to plan a long walk after.
Home trick: next day, I pan-fried leftovers in a tiny Airbnb pan. Crispy edges. Best snack.
5) Goulash in Budapest, Hungary
I had it in a stew pot at a no-frills spot with red tablecloths. Beef, paprika, soft carrots, and that slow, warm heat that sneaks up.
The good: deep flavor, not spicy-hot, just warm.
The bad: one bowl I tried near the river was too salty. A beer helped.
Little thing: order bread on the side. Rip and dunk. It’s half the joy.
6) Wiener Schnitzel in Vienna, Austria
The plate was larger than my face, which felt funny and right. The veal was thin and tender. The crumb was golden and barely clung on, like a crisp shell.
The good: light crunch, lemon on top, potato salad on the side.
The bad: I had a dry one at a late-night spot. Timing matters; fresh from the pan is best.
Tip: squeeze the lemon. Then one more squeeze. It wakes the whole dish up.
7) Moussaka in Athens, Greece
I found a family place under strings of lights. Layers of eggplant, ground meat, and a creamy top that set like a cloud.
The good: cinnamon in the meat, soft veg, a cozy bake.
The bad: one slice I tried elsewhere was oily, like it sat too long.
Note: let it rest a few minutes. The flavors settle. I learned the hard way (hot roof of mouth).
8) Fish and Chips in London, UK
I ate mine from a paper box on a cold bench near the Thames. The batter snapped when I bit it. The cod was clean and flaky. Vinegar made it sing.
The good: crisp, hot, simple, and honest.
The bad: soggy happens. If the box steams too long, you lose the crunch.
Tip: ask for curry sauce once, just for fun. It’s odd, but it works.
9) Raclette in Zermatt, Switzerland
Snow day. Red cheeks. Hot, hot cheese scraped over steamed potatoes and pickles. The smell is big, but the taste is mellow.
The good: cozy, salty, a slow meal with friends.
The bad: the smell sticks to your sweater. Also, it’s heavy. A nap follows.
Tiny fix: sip black tea or a light white wine. Cuts the weight a bit.
10) Pastel de Nata in Lisbon, Portugal
I waited in a long line in Belém and didn’t even care. The custard was silky with a little jiggle. The top had tiny brown spots from the heat.
The good: flaky shell, warm center, cinnamon on top.
The bad: too sweet if it’s cold or old. Warm is key.
Question: was it worth the wait? Oh yes.
A Few Small Surprises
- Bread and butter in Europe can be a whole event. I still think about the salted butter in Brittany.
- Lemon is a secret hero. On schnitzel, fish, even on fried squid in Spain—it lifts everything.
- Lines lie sometimes. A busy place can be great, or just loud. Ask a server what they eat. That helped me more than reviews did.
- I thought Rioja was everything until I sipped Albariño on the coast—this field guide, I tasted my way across Spanish wine regions—my honest take, helped me map flavors to places.
What I’d Eat Again Tomorrow
If I had to pick, I’d grab a croissant at sunrise, pizza for lunch, and a pastel de nata for the walk home. Simple, bright, and a tiny bit messy. Food that tastes like a place.
Got a dish I missed? Tell me. I’ve got my fork ready.