food, food and yes, more food

We travel for the adventure, experience and culture (and to escape the Australian winter — because who wouldn’t trade ugg boots and grey skies for coconuts and sunshine?)

We also travel for the food. We are not your “travel to another country, stay in a big resort and then get disappointed when the food isn’t exactly like home” type. Ok, well… sometimes that’s us — but only on short trips where the plan is basically chill, champagne, and chocolates. (Don’t judge. Everyone needs a bubble-and-snack holiday.)

On this wonderful adventure — 10 countries in 10 years — our intention is to live like locals. And that means trying all sorts of weird stuff. Like, weird-weird. We’re talking about eating in places that would give your mum anxiety, and a borderline obsession with supermarkets and their mysterious foreign snacks (and wines, of course — we’re not savages).

Now Tahiti has been remarkable in sooooooo many ways, but the food story? Oh, it’s a delicious rollercoaster.

Let’s start with the little stalls on the side of the road. They sell everything from pineapples, oranges, mangoes, watermelons, limes (the juiciest little limes I’ve ever tasted) and coconuts — to freshly caught fish, hot cocoa, fairy floss, citronade, and all sorts of vegetables. It’s like a farmer’s market crashed into a tropical dream.

I found it intriguing that some of this produce was more expensive than the high-quality imported fruit and veg in the supermarkets. Yet people still stop and buy it. Curious (and nosy), I asked a local why. The answer? Pure Tahitian kindness and respect.

Apparently, (let’s use oranges as an example) locals climb up steep hills where these oranges grow naturally, pick them, and then carry them back down in 15kg bundles balanced on a pole across their shoulders — 30kg in total. Basically CrossFit with citrus. Then they clean, package, and set up shop roadside with a hand-painted sign and a whole lot of heart. The locals buy them not for the price — but to acknowledge the sheer effort. How beautiful is that? Now we love Tahiti and its people even more. We often bought fruit and veggies roadside too… but we couldn’t quite bring ourselves to buy the fish. We’re brave — just not eat-this-today-or-regret-it-at-2am brave.

Another quirky culinary gem: the roulotte trucks. Think food trucks with island flair. These aren’t your “pulled pork in a hipster bun” setups — they bring full tables, chairs, BBQs and a vibe that screams, “eat until you can’t move.” The food is cheap and there’s miles of it. The kids were in heaven. Some nights there’s one truck, other nights it’s a full-blown pop-up food court. We hit the ones on the harbour in Papeete, just up from the ferry terminal. It’s a guessing game and a feast rolled into one.

And then — wait for it — there are automatic pizza machines. Yes, you read that right. You can get a hot, bubbling pizza in under 3 minutes at any hour of the day. Any hour. Forget late-night kebabs — this is the future. Why is this not a thing in Australia?! Come on, entrepreneurs. Step up.

Restaurants in Tahiti vary wildly — from fine dining to “well, at least the view is nice.” We tried a lot of them. Generally, you get what you pay for, and to be fair, we only had one culinary disaster in three months — not bad odds at all.

Three restaurants stole our hearts (and our stomachs):

La Plage — Right on a black sand beach, with sunset views of Moorea so beautiful you’ll forget your cocktail is melting. The mahi mahi is perfection. Oh, and their charcuterie board? Comes with a butter tiki and baked Camembert. Yes, baked. Camembert. We almost cried.

Meherio Tahitian Bistro — Right on the harbour in Papeete. Go upstairs for the view, stay for the sashimi. Also: fish rillettes. Don’t Google it, just eat it. Thank us later.

Coco Beach Restaurant — Located on a little motu off Moorea. You ferry over, drive to a wharf in the middle of nowhere, and suddenly you’re at a table in the water with stingrays and blacktip sharks casually swimming past while you eat ribs and sip champagne. It’s a National Geographic BBQ. We went back multiple times. Obviously.

Now for the pièce de résistance: poisson cru. It’s the local delicacy: raw fresh tuna marinated in lime juice and coconut milk, with red onion, tomato, sometimes capsicum or mango. Basically, Tahitian ceviche. It’s everywhere and it’s delicious — but once the MasterChef in our house (Suz) had a crack at it, it went next level. Everyone who’s tasted her version raves about it. Some even say it’s better than the locals’. Her secret weapon? Wasabi coconut on the side. OMG.

Speaking of daily must-haves — the baguettes. Found in every supermarket, corner store, and petrol station. Replenished constantly, always fresh. And at 1 dollar a pop, they’re possibly the best investment in happiness you’ll ever make. Crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside — divine with Vegemite or the local apricot jam (which we bought a giant jar of to take home. It’s that good.) Also, how civilized is this, some places sell baguettes stuffed with hot chips! Who doesn’t love a country that does that! Yummmmmo!

Side note: Everything in Tahiti comes in epic sizes. I made an art form of finding giant packages of everything from Pringles to Doritos. Honestly, Costco would blush.

By the way, everything is french (obviously!) So the biggest supermarket has like 457 different types of cheese! But no cheddar, go figure?

If you want to see the heart of Tahitian food, head to the Papeete markets on a Sunday. There’s everything from whole fish to slabs of tuna, all displayed with the confidence of a Michelin chef. There are fresh fruit and veggie stalls, plus adorable little pastry stands selling buttery, sugary, diet-ending delights. (Calories don’t count on holiday, right?)

But the real hero? The roast pork with crackle. They slice it fresh into bite-sized pieces, pop it in a bag, and it’s basically pork popcorn. We lined up every Sunday like it was a Beyoncé concert.

And let’s not forget Le Journal Hautbois, the little pastry shop we stumbled upon. Their weekend-only special (Kouign-Amann) is like a croissant and a toffee apple had a baby. Thank goodness they only make them on weekends — otherwise, we’d be 10kg heavier and rolling down the street.

Perhaps the greatest thing about food in Tahiti isn’t the dishes — it’s the people. Despite the language barrier, locals always seem to understand what you want. They smile, they laugh with you, and they deliver food with a warmth that makes every bite taste better. Whether it’s at a roadside stand, a roulotte truck, a market stall, or a restaurant — the food in Tahiti is delicious, and the people serving it are absolutely delightful.