IT IS STRANGE THAT in the absence of travel, I’ve spent more time than ever dreaming about it. What particularly snares me is the memories of those dishes that you never knew existed until you travelled… and then fell hopelessly in love with.
Now I’m not talking about legendary culinary attractions that delivered like Naples’ pizza, La Tour d’Argent pressed duck, sushi or ramen in Tokyo, Hainanese chicken rice in Malaysia and chilli crab in Singapore. I’m also not talking about obvious ones that didn’t deliver, such as Istanbul’s famous fish sandwich (made with imported