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

I’ve been psyching myself up to try it; now it’s time. Kumis, here I come.

Driving very, very slowly across Mongolia, we eat really bad fish sandwiches and share them with a passing stranger.

In a washed-up former shipping port, we drink cold noodle soup to beat the heat and do vodka shots with the local police.

It’s very hot, but crossing into Uzbekistan, we’re starting to see some better grub.

At the Uzbekistan border, we get more borscht, plus a little something extra.

Unforgiving sun, potholed dirt roads, a plywood table, and some kind of organ meat.

If we’d waited a couple of miles, we could’ve killed our hunger in style.

How to sleep and eat when poor: the CouchSurfing Project and Pelmeni XL.

A western-themed joint in Riga and fried bread dipped in mayo.

Getting a proper cup of coffee in Eastern Europe is a pain, but we score in Prague.

Britain’s suds are undergoing a renaissance, but more important, the British don’t care if you drink in public.

Bagels for lunch in the East London neighborhood packed with Indian and Bangladeshi restaurants.

Maria’s Fish & Kebabs serves up fish and chips—and oil and grease.

CHOW does the Mongol Rally and asks everyone along the way: What did you have for dinner last night?