Welcome to Lonely Palate, a place where you can discover stories, recipes and travel guides from chefs and locals that I meet as I live, and slowly eat my way around the world.
To me, food is so much more than a commodity or temporal pleasure; it’s a catalyst to create rich, immersive connections that can help reconcile cultural divides. Lonely Palate was created on the belief that by learning from each other’s culinary identities we can break down cultural barriers and develop a deeper understanding of our human interconnectedness.
I’ve quit my job, sold all of my belongings and bought a one-way ticket to live, and eat my may around the world. Sacrificing my waist line, I’m committed to fulfilling my role as your global guide to local food, uncovering the best (and up-to-date) foodie haunts, trends and culinary experiences around the world.
Pack an appetite and get ready for a Gastronomic Adventure!
I’m Jessica. A twenty-something girl who quit her job in Marketing to chase after a dream: Lonely Palate. Everything in my life is driven by fascination, be it with people, cultures, history, and pretty much everything and anything that my ears or eyes experience. This deep fascination has birthed in me an almost inconvenient obsession with needing to know the reason behind everything. I’m obsessed with knowing why people do what they do, what drives them, why they spend their days making the choices that they make, both willingly and subconsciously. My overt inquisitiveness more often than not leads me to asking too many questions, overanalysing and delving too deep. I’m an open book, and consequently I often assume others are the same. If you’re out there, I want to know who you are, what you’re doing and most importantly, why.
This is my why:
When I was 18 years old, I was diagnosed with cancer. Just when I thought life was beginning, the end was already in sight. Thankfully, with the miracle that is today’s medical world, and of course with the support from family and friends, I was cured. That was now six years ago. Six years of invaluable friendships, unforgettable moments and the simple pleasures that come with a comfortable life. But with my comfortable life came routine; routine is a dangerous thing. It will give you tunnel vision, it will see you complain, condemn and hear you utter the words “one day” a thousand times over.
So when, five years after beating cancer, I was faced with the possibility of the battle once more, I wasn’t only fearful of my days ahead, but fearful of how much I had taken for granted the days come and gone. As I lay in the hospital ward, awaiting my fate, I could not deny the heart-breaking regret that consumed me. I had fought so hard for my life and instead of going on and living the life I had always dreamt of, I filed all of my dreams into the “one-day” file.
The file suddenly had a new name. “I wish I had of”. Too late, I thought. The freedom and luxury of choice is gone. I prayed for forgiveness for my foolishness and I prayed for mercy. I promised myself that if I was going to come out of this alive, I wouldn’t just be alive – I would live. And I did. And so I am.