Is daylight-saving time bad for cows?

Our stomachs ruined from last night’s party, it’s our only nutritional intake.

A caffeine addict will do anything to get his fix—even make coffee with ragged old underwear.

We’re down to the dregs of our supplies again, after being grossed out by offal in an outdoor market.

We can’t find a decent road to save our lives, but finally we get some good kebabs.

We cross the English Channel, motor through France, and end up in Brussels at dusk, where our first official meal of the rally is lamb patties.

A good meal on Air India has us liking airline food again.

He must also have sour goat milk soup. Especially when those are the only things available along the roadside of Uzbekistan.

But at least we found a place to eat scrambled eggs.

We choose our restaurant based on which one has a more tasteful window display of bloody animal parts.

We meet up with fellow New Yorkers and enjoy the company of some lovely ladies at a pirozhki joint.

After riding on a bus for 12 hours with locals who don’t eat, we finally have some mutton with gravy.

Yet another food I don’t recognize, and decide to try.

My friend had warned me not to drink kvass. I didn’t mean to, I swear!

Bugs Meany’s car breaks down, leading to an exploration of a crazy outdoor food market. Only $1.50 for a feast of treats.