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.

One night my mate came home bearing a gigantic blood sausage, a gift from a Kikuyu farmer concerned about my failure to get pregnant . . .

You think the French drip good taste, elegance, and sophistication? Here is some funky French stuff that may leave you gobsmacked.

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.

Cooking disasters, anyone? I was once faced with a culinary fiasco of mystifying proportions while living in an African village.