There’s a reason “eat like a local” is one of the most important axioms of travel. It’s a great way to experience and appreciate the culture of a given country and region.

We try to do that as much as possible. We’ve enjoyed pastel de nata in Portugal, had tasty tapas and paella in Spain, eaten lots of baklava, moussaka, souvlaki, tzatziki, and saganaki in Greece, sampled seftalia and halloumi in Cyprus, and tried the local wines and beers every place we’ve visited.

Most of the food and drink has been wonderful, so it’s not like this is an arduous aspect of travel. But while we follow the axiom as much as possible, we don’t regard it as a rigid rule. Sometimes we’ve strayed, and opted for the more comfortable and familiar.

We do have a few firm guidelines—absolutely no McDonald’s or any other American fast-food franchise. But we’ve unashamedly eaten at an Irish pub in Tavira, Portugal, and a burger joint in Larnaca, Cyprus.

We don’t feel like they’ve detracted from the authentic travel experience. In fact, they’ve enhanced the experience by bringing us in contact with people we otherwise wouldn’t have met.

Take, for example, the good folks at Ben’s in Paphos.

Ben’s is a bar serving traditional British pub fare—steak and Guinness pie, chicken and mushroom pie. It was the closest establishment to our apartment in Paphos. We were very tired after a long day of exploring Lighthouse Beach and the Archaeological Park, and didn’t feel up for a walk to an authentic Cypriot restaurant. So Ben’s it was.

The bar’s namesake was a Brit who served in the special forces. He sold to the current owners, an Englishman and a Bulgarian. We expected to find a lot of British tourists. There were a few, but mostly the clientele was British expats.

We struck up a conversation with Graham and Linda, who moved here 14 years ago. They came on holiday from England, loved it, and stayed. There was David, and Fred, and George, all greeted by name when they came or went.

They weren’t all Brits. Goose from Western Australia is thinking about moving to Cyprus. His stereotype of Americans was odd. He asked why we put gravy on biscuits, and why we have gravy for breakfast. When we left, he told me to enjoy my gravy in the morning.

I enjoy the occasional plate of biscuits and gravy, but I’ve never thought of it as something that defines my culture. Hi, I’m Simon, I’m from North Carolina and I eat biscuits and gravy. But fair dinkum. I assume all Aussies eat Vegemite sandwiches and have shrimp on the barbie.

The food wasn’t great, but the atmosphere was. We learned a lot about the expat community. Why they came (for the weather, mostly). Their relationship with the locals (very good, as long as they stay on the right side of the no-nonsense legal system). Their view of tourists from the mother country (positive, as long as they don’t drink too much and make fools of themselves).

We might have had a better meal and a more authentic experience at a Cypriot restaurant. But we appreciated the opportunity to learn about this community within a community.