Why We Don’t Eat Food We’ve Ever Heard Of (And How it Helps Expand Our Travel)

One of the simplest—and most surprisingly meaningful—rules we’ve followed while traveling is this:

We don’t eat any food we’ve heard of.

Okay, that’s not entirely true. What we really mean is we don’t eat at restaurants we could find at home.

No Starbucks. No Domino’s. No Cracker Barrel. No Steak ’n Shake.

Yes, we’ll eat pizza—but not from a chain we pass every day. Yes, we’ll eat hamburgers, eggs, and bacon—but not in a place with the same menu, logo, and laminated placemat we could find off the interstate back home.

It’s about experience.

The Spirit of the Rule

When you travel, it’s easy to bring your comfort zone with you. Same coffee. Same meals. Same routines. Familiar food can feel grounding when you’re tired, jet-lagged, or overwhelmed.

But part of travel is stepping into the unfamiliar.

Food is one of the easiest ways to do that.

By avoiding chain restaurants, we’re forced to:

• Think through meal decisions

• Read menus we don’t fully understand

• Point at things and hope for the best

• Trust locals who say, “No, this place—go here instead”

And almost every time, it pays off.

Some of Our Favorite “Unknown” Meals

Some of our most memorable meals weren’t planned at all.

• Empanadas at a tiny neighborhood bar in Barceloneta, eaten standing up with locals who clearly had strong opinions about which filling was best.

• Breakfast from a street stand in Nice, France, eaten while wandering without a plan.

• Breakfast at a roadside diner in Washington State, nothing fancy—just coffee, eggs, and a counter full of regulars who had clearly been coming there for decades.

None of those locations would ever show up on a “Top 10 Must-Eat” list. All of them told us something more about where we were.

Yes, There Have Been Exceptions

Of course there have.

One memorable exception started with a five-hour late-night drive, with two kids, from Oregon to Washington, knowing we had to be up early to whitewater raft the next morning. Fatigue won. Hunger won harder. I announced we were stopping for comfort food.

Burger King.

The car erupted in cheers like they had just won the Powerball.

Another exception was in Australia, where Cat had learned—in advance—that a McDonald’s had a vertical conveyor belt delivery system. At that point, it wasn’t about the food. It was about engineering. That stop was inevitable.

And yes, when we’re out West, we absolutely make room for In-N-Out Burger or Del Taco. Geography-based exceptions feel fair.

Twenty-plus years into adventure traveling, we’re not as strict as we once were. And that’s okay.

The Rule Was Never the Point

The rule wasn’t about deprivation.

It was about creating a tiny bit of friction—just enough to push us away from the easy choice and toward the interesting one. Expanding our sense of adventure.

When you don’t default to what you know, you:

• Discover places you’d never search for

• Eat meals you can’t recreate at home

• Associate flavors with memories instead of brands

You remember the new place because of what you saw and ate there.

Why We Still Believe in It

Even now, long after the rule has softened, the mindset remains.

Travel is about adventure.

Adventure requires uncertainty.

And uncertainty starts with small choices.

So for us, “not eating food we’ve heard of” was never really about food at all. It was a way to say:

We’re here.

We’re open.

Surprise us.

And more often than not, the world does.