Order the Unpronounceable

The dish you skip because you can't say it is almost always the one worth eating.

5 October 2026

Kokotxas al pil-pil. Mapo doufu. Ssam. Mbongo tchobi. Every great restaurant has a word on the menu that makes nervous diners point and say "I'll have that one." Don't be that diner. Be the person who stumbles through the syllables and gets handed something extraordinary.

Here's what I've learned from thirty years of eating in places where I couldn't read the signage: the dish nobody orders is the dish the cook made anyway. It's on the menu because someone in that kitchen loves it, not because it sells. The braised tripe, the fermented paste, the fish collar — these are acts of stubbornness and pride. When the kitchen is proudest, they're cooking for themselves. Your job is to show up and deserve it.

Mispronounce it. Order it. Eat it. The embarrassment lasts five seconds. The meal lasts the rest of your life.