It’s the moment every travel-writing foodie waits for: an invitation to sail on a fourteen-day culinary odyssey aboard a luxury ship, joined by culinary luminaries and fellow hungry journalists. 

I think I RSVP’d “yes!!!” within about five minutes of reading the email. I packed stretchy pants and ordered classy clothes from Rent the Runway. I am an enthusiastic eater but a terrible and grouchy home cook: How could I have predicted that one of the best meals I sampled on my dreamy culinary adventure would be one I’d make myself?

After a night at the ultra-chic W Barcelona, I stepped aboard the Oceania Vista and settled into my luxurious stateroom. (The bathroom included the only medicine cabinet I’ve ever seen on a ship!)  I marveled at my itinerary, which was designed by Executive Culinary Directors Alexis Quaretti and Eric Barale and the ship’s talented culinary team. On the first evening, as I met my fellow passengers—every one of whom had chosen this specific trip because of their love of food—I realized that sharing foodie intel and hearing about others’ gastronomic adventures would be an important part of my journey from Barcelona to Istanbul.

Here are the ten meals that defined my trip:

1) Market-to-Table Magic in Livorno, Italy

Wednesday morning in Livorno began at Mercato Centrale, where I joined seventeen other guests following our chef instructor, Lori Powell, through 230 stalls of Tuscan abundance. The market’s Parisian-influenced architecture framed towers of Pecorino, glistening fresh fish on ice, and the intoxicating scent of basil mingling with ripe tomatoes.

Our chef moved through the chaos with purpose, explaining which olive oils were local and how the tastes differed; pointing out good prosciutto and transcendent prosciutto. This was education disguised as shopping.

The real magic happened at Villa Daniella in the heart of Chianti DOCG wine region. Once a Medici hunting lodge, the villa now presides over 222 acres of ancient olive groves and vines. In the villa’s kitchen, our chef used those market finds to create a multi-course feast, each dish paired with wines crafted right there on the estate. Between courses, I wandered the gardens, already planning my return.

2) French Soul Food at Jacques

I’ll admit I had high expectations for Jacques, the restaurant named after legendary chef Jacques Pépin. But nothing prepared me for how Oceania has captured the soul of French regional cooking in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea.

I started with Escargots à la Bourguignonne—traditional baked escargots swimming in Burgundy garlic butter so rich I wanted to drink it. For the main course, I chose Bar en Croûte et Sauce Beurre Blanc: sea bass filet baked in a puff pastry crust, the beurre blanc pooling around it like liquid silk. What struck me most was the lack of pretension—this was French fine dining that felt like someone had invited you into their home, if their home happened to have a Michelin-starred chef in the kitchen.

3) Chef’s Market Dinner in Provence, France

The Chef’s Market Dinners became the through-line of my journey. In Provence, I watched as the Terrace Cafe transformed into something magical. The chefs had ventured into local markets that morning, returning with whatever looked best, freshest, most irresistible.

By evening, the setup alone told a story—this was food with a sense of place. Ratatouille made with vegetables picked that morning. Bouillabaisse fragrant with saffron and the day’s catch. Tarte Tatin with apples from a roadside farm stand. Each dish spoke of Provence in a way no menu planning could replicate.

4) Truffle Hunting and Gnocchi Outside Rome

When we stopped for the day outside Rome, many tourists queued for the Colosseum. But my foodie friends and I stood in a forest outside Rome listening to a truffle hunter named Federico educate us about why dogs—not pigs—are the truffle hunter’s best friend.

We set off into the woods with expert truffle dogs. These weren’t pets doing tricks; they were professionals with generations of training behind them. When the first dog stopped and began pawing gently at the ground, everyone fell silent. We dug carefully where indicated, and there it was—a knobby, earth-covered truffle that smelled like the forest floor had concentrated all its mysteries into a single fungus.

At lunchtime, we headed to a local restaurant with the dogs in tow. (Worn out from running through the forest, they would sit quietly in their crate next to our outdoor table.) Chefs prepared fresh gnocchi—pillowy soft, exactly the right canvas for what was coming. When my plate arrived, truffle shavings cascaded over the pasta, the first bite was a revelation. The gnocchi melted on my tongue, and the truffle elevated the dish into the taste of place itself. Each bite was earthy, complex, worth every minute we’d spent in those woods.

5) Sunset Mocktails and Mediterranean Views at Horizons

Not every memorable meal needs to be an event. Some of my favorite moments happened with a cocktail or mocktail in hand at Horizons on Deck 15, watching the Mediterranean turn copper and gold at sunset. Light bites accompanied expertly crafted drinks—I loved the nonalcoholic NO-Groni and the Lyre’s Italian Spritz.

The casual elegance of Horizons became my refuge between more formal dining experiences. Sometimes the best meal is the one enjoyed with no agenda except watching the sea change colors.

6) The Gala Brunch Experience

The galley tour before Saturday’s Gala Brunch felt like being given backstage passes to the world’s most delicious show. Executive Culinary Director Alex Quaretti led us through the controlled chaos of the ship’s kitchen—acres of gleaming stainless steel, teams working in choreographed precision, enough fresh ingredients to feed a small city.

Then we emerged into the Grand Dining Room for the brunch itself, and suddenly all that behind-the-scenes complexity made sense. The spread was obscene in the best possible way: made-to-order omelets, smoked salmon, pastries that belonged in a Parisian patisserie, and a dessert table that required serious strategic planning. I went back three times. No regrets.

7) Santorini’s Hidden Gem: Tholoto Restaurant

After days of shipboard dining excellence, I craved something off the beaten path in Santorini. Luckily, I explored the island with food journalist and cookbook author Joey Skaldany and his sister, and Joey brought me to Tholoto in Kontohori—a cozy spot describing itself as “Mediterranean Creative Kitchen” that locals actually frequent.

The grilled octopus came to table on a stunning yellow puree of Santorini’s famous split peas, each tentacle charred and tender. The presentation alone—artistic swirls and caper buds—signaled that this wasn’t your typical tourist taverna. Next came grilled halloumi studded with black sesame seeds, the cheese achieving that perfect balance of crispy exterior and molten center.

The Greek salad transcended every mediocre version I’d encountered before—crumbled feta, sun-ripened tomatoes, and Kalamata olives. For the main course, we chose sea bass, which was presented so beautifully I almost felt guilty cutting into it. Almost.

Dessert was a revelation: chocolate mousse topped with crushed pistachios that added texture. Dining at Tholoto reminded me that sometimes the best meals happen when you risk getting lost to venture beyond the obvious choices.

8) Olive Oil and Italian Perfection at Toscana

My dinner at onboard Italian restaurant Toscana began with a delightful visit from the restaurant’s olive oil sommelier (and travel blogger), Asia. Instead of the usual wine pairing, she invited us to choose an olive oil pairing according to our mood. Our mood. As if olive oil were something emotional, which—it turns out—it absolutely is.

I selected a peppery Tuscan oil that matched my adventurous spirit that evening, and it appeared at the table like liquid gold, ready to transform everything it touched.

For my first course, I ordered Giada De Laurentiis’s signature pasta, the Capri-inspired Lemon Spaghetti, which features lemon cream, shrimp, mascarpone, Parmesan, and fried capers and is a dish so bright and fresh it tasted like bottled sunshine.

But I couldn’t resist also ordering the Aragosta Fra Diavolo con Tagliolini Freschi—because when you’re on a culinary cruise and lobster is an option, the answer is always yes. The succulent lobster tail was sautéed with fresh garlic and spicy crushed chili peppers, swimming in vine-ripened San Marzano tomatoes and Italian parsley, all served over fresh tagliolini pasta.

This wasn’t the restrained lobster preparation I’d expected. This was lobster with attitude—the fra diavolo sauce had heat, personality, and a tomato-forward richness that made me want to sop up every last drop with bread. The lobster itself was sweet and tender, standing up beautifully to those bold flavors. Each twirl of tagliolini brought together pasta, sauce, and chunks of lobster in a combination that was unapologetically indulgent.

Toscana proved that sometimes the most sophisticated dining happens when you trust your mood, choose your own olive oil, and let simple ingredients speak volumes.

9) Pan-Asian Perfection at Red Ginger

After days of European cuisine, I craved something entirely different. Onboard restaurant Red Ginger delivered with a pan-Asian menu that somehow managed to honor multiple culinary traditions without feeling scattered or confused.

Our group decided to throw caution to the wind and order the “Skewers, Sushi & Tempura” platter designed for two to four people: chicken, beef, and shrimp skewers still sizzling, the chef’s selection of pristine sushi, and tempura featuring rock prawn and calamari so light and crispy they practically floated off the plate.

We passed plates, shared bites, argued good-naturedly about which skewer was best (shrimp won by a narrow margin), and marveled at the tempura batter that was somehow both substantial and ethereal. The sushi—impeccably fresh despite being in the middle of the Mediterranean—reminded us that Oceania doesn’t compromise on quality regardless of location.

Someone ordered the miso glazed sea bass to round out our feast, and when it was served with crisped skin and den miso glaze creating that ideal balance of sweet, salty, and umami, we all took turns stealing bites.

This wild, family-style feast became one of my favorite meals of the entire cruise—not just for the food, but for the laughter, the sharing, and the beautiful absurdity of eating exceptional pan-Asian cuisine while sailing between European ports.

10) Culinary Class Finale: I Made It Myself!

For my last meal, I want to write about how an extremely reluctant chef (me) made a delicious meal and enjoyed it.

Standing at my station (closed-toe shoes required), I watched Lori Powell demonstrate each step with the kind of calm confidence that makes complicated things look easy. We were making Turkish zucchini fritters with preserved lemon, Moroccan b’stilla domes with two sauces—sultana and verde—and Moroccan mint juleps.

The fritters came together so easily I kept waiting for something to go wrong. This was cooking in quotation marks: the zucchini was pre-grated, the herbs and preserved lemon measured into cute ceramic ramekins at my station, and friendly and culinary staff members keeping an eye on my every move, ready to help. I formed patties and pan-fried until golden. That was it. No drama. No disasters. Just the satisfying sizzle of fritters hitting hot oil and the smell of preserved lemon perfuming the air.

The b’stilla domes looked intimidating—those fine phyllo layers, the precise folding—but Lori’s instructions were so clear that my hands seemed to know what to do before my brain caught up. When we plated them, I had a moment of genuine pride. I made that. Me. The person who considers not-too-burned toast a culinary achievement.

But the sultana sauce—oh, that sultana sauce. Sweet, complex, with just enough acidity to balance the richness of the b’stilla filling, it was the kind of thing I’d normally assume required chef-level skills. Turns out, it just required following Lori’s directions and trusting the process.

We sat down together to eat what we’d created, Moroccan mint juleps in hand. The fritters were crispy outside, tender inside, bright with lemon. The b’stilla was flaky and rich, topped by that incredible sultana. And the mint juleps? The perfect cooling counterpoint to the warm spices.

For someone who hates cooking, I left that class thinking maybe—just maybe—I’d been doing it wrong all along. With the right teacher, the right recipes, and the right company, cooking wasn’t a chore. It was the perfect finale to my culinary odyssey.

The Real Takeaway

Here’s what nobody tells you about a culinary cruise: you don’t just eat well. You learn. You discover. You begin to understand food as a language, one that transcends borders and speaks directly to memory and emotion.

I boarded in Barcelona thinking I knew my way around good food. I disembarked in Istanbul two weeks later realizing I’d only just begun my education. Somewhere between the truffle-hunting dogs and the Livorno market and the twilight mocktails on Deck 15, I’d fallen completely in love with this way of seeing the world.

One meal at a time. One perfect bite at a time. One unforgettable moment at a time.

The Culinary Luminaries cruise sails from Belfast to Lisbon with Executive Culinary Directors Alexis Quaretti and Eric Barale. Food Network icon Sara Moulton leads a voyage from Lisbon to Paris. And Claudine Pépin, daughter of legendary chef Jacques Pépin, hosts an Alaska sailing from Seattle.

Three chances to continue my culinary education….I’m already saving up for my next spectacular culinary voyage.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

Cover Photo Amanda Eyre Ward.

Amanda Eyre Ward is a New York Times bestselling novelist and travel writer. She lives with her family in Austin, TX. Follow Amanda on Instagram @aeyreward.