EYW Blog

Team EYW was recently in Port Antonio, where the Blue Mountains meet the sea in northeast Jamaica, to cover the north coast’s local foods for this site. The birthplace of jerk, this gorgeously green, serene region is one that rewards an exploratory spirit—even if you have a two-year-old in tow.

To be perfectly honest, we arrived to Port Antonio, on Jamaica’s lush northeast coast, a little beaten down. Scott and I had just survived a nearly five-hour drive (with stops, including two by the speed-gun-happy local cops) along the coast from Montego Bay, the last two hours slow and winding, with our temperamental nearly two-year-old, and we were already dreading the drive back in a few...

Sometimes you have only a few short hours in a new place, and damn it if you won’t make the most of them. Such was the case for our day trip from Copenhagen to Malmö, Sweden, just over the huge Øresund bridge from the Danish capital, where our brief agenda included wandering the streets, stopping in some parks, and eating köttbullar, or what we call Swedish meatballs. Pretty manageable, right?

That’s what we thought, anyway, as we emerged from the train into the bright sunlight last September. Our 17-month-old son was peacefully asleep in a carrier on my chest, and we had plentiful time to wander the quiet, pretty streets and find us some meatballs for lunch. We quickly saw,...

Fifteen months ago, our lives changed forever when we welcomed our son into this world. Like all new parents, we’ve had to figure out a lot since then—how to keep our baby healthy, how to sleep more than three hours a night, and, eventually, how to maintain some semblance of our former traveling-food-explorer lifestyles. Fortunately—for now, anyway—our little guy fits right in, with an impressive appetite and a willingness to try almost anything, from frog legs in Kentucky to Nepali momos at home in Queens. Until we have to deal with tricking him to eat anything that’s not brown, here are our tips for feeding yourself and your baby local eats while on the road.

At work on Isla...

Tacos for breakfast in Tulum

Traditionally, Scott and I are stay-up-late, wake-up-late kind of people. This all changed a year ago, of course, when our son was born and the definition of “waking up late” became 8am. Most days we’re in bed by 11pm and up by 7am, though baby boy has pushed the 6am envelope more times than I would prefer. On Mexico’s Yucatán coast last week, however, where the time difference was a small but still meaningful-in-a-baby’s-world two hours, all bets were off.

We’d heard the horrors of time-change travel with babies, one reason why we rather timidly selected east-coast Mexico for this trip (it’s also a nicely manageable four-hour flight from New York)....