Ever done something so dangerous that afterward you were stunned by the stupidity of what you’d done? As an expat foodie living in Indonesia I did just that.
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One night my mate came home bearing a gigantic blood sausage, a gift from a Kikuyu farmer concerned about my failure to get pregnant . . .
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You think the French drip good taste, elegance, and sophistication? Here is some funky French stuff that may leave you gobsmacked.
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It wasn’t polite of me to not fess up to a bad deed while vacationing in Italy. For years now I’ve been living with a tiny shred of guilt.
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Shopping in an African market: It’s not your American mall, but you can get your hair done, and where better to find dried shrimp by the kilo?
