10 countries where you can eat exceptionally well for $1

I love fancy restaurants as much as the next traveler, but the meals that rearranged my brain rarely came with starched napkins.

They showed up in paper cones, dented bowls, and waxed paper—handed to me by someone who’s been perfecting one thing for years.

And yes, in the right places, one US dollar (give or take a few cents with exchange rates) can still buy food that you’ll talk about for the rest of the year.

Here’s my short list. Ten countries. Ten dishes. Ten ways a single coin can deliver ridiculous flavor and a little perspective.

1. India

If you dropped me in Mumbai with one buck and ten minutes, I’d beeline for a vada pav cart.

A fist-sized potato patty, spiked with green chile and mustard seeds, gets battered, fried, tucked into a soft bun, and slapped with garlic chutney.

It’s hot, fast, filling, and somehow tastes like a good mood. Prices at street stands still hover far below a dollar in many neighborhoods, which explains why it’s called the common person’s burger.

For plant-based folks (hi), it’s an easy win—vada pav is naturally vegan at most stalls. If you’re further south, a steel plate of idli with sambar or a crisp paper dosa from a standing counter can come in under a buck outside tourist strips. The trick, as always, is to follow the office crowd.

2. Vietnam

I’ve eaten bánh mì that felt like a masterclass in balance: warm-crackly baguette, herbs that smell like a garden after rain, and just enough heat to keep you awake.

In small towns and less touristy districts, a simple bánh mì (egg, tofu, or pork if you’re not plant-based) often lands around 20,000–30,000₫—right at the ~$1 mark. Street-food budgets in Vietnam routinely quote 20,000–70,000 for a satisfying bite, which tells you how far your coin can go. 

If you want soup, keep an eye out for hyper-local noodle stalls where the broth bubbles in battered pots. I once sat on a child-sized stool in Huế and watched a woman season by instinct alone. No measuring, all memory.

3. Mexico

“Meal” is a flexible word in taco-land.

A single taco al pastor won’t stuff you, but when that tortilla is hot off the plancha and the meat (or mushrooms if you’re me) is shaved thin under a pineapple, one dollar feels like a bargain for a perfect bite. Many stands still price classic tacos around 10–15 pesos (about $0.50–$0.75), especially away from tourist centers.

Here’s my move: plant my feet at a busy corner, order one taco at a time, and let the salsa bar turn it into a mini tasting. I’ve mentioned this before but standing tacos > seated tacos. You taste the city while you chew.

4. Nepal

Kathmandu runs on momos. A steamy plate of veg momos—pleated dumplings with gingery filling—often hits 100–150 NPR at street spots and simple canteens, which is roughly $0.75–$1.15. At the low end of that range, your dollar easily clears a portion.

Order them steamed first. If you’re still hungry, chase with a thukpa (noodle soup) from a nearby stall. Bonus: momo chutney sneaks up on you. Don’t flood, dip.

5. Indonesia

Warung food is the definition of humble greatness.

A nasi pecel—a mound of rice with blanched greens and peanut sambal—can be astonishingly cheap in markets and small towns; news reports highlight plates between Rp3,000 and Rp10,000 in certain regions, and even in cities you’ll find bowls of bakso (meatball soup) at Rp10,000–Rp20,000 on the kaki lima (street carts).

That keeps you right around—or under—a dollar.

As a vegan traveler, I live on tempeh in Indonesia. Tempeh-and-rice wrapped in banana leaf with sambal is the lunchbox I wish I grew up with.

6. Philippines

When Manila rains, I want lugaw—gingery rice porridge that tastes like a hug. At no-frills “lugawan” counters, a plain bowl still appears at ₱35–₱53 in some spots (about $0.60–$0.95), which makes it a sub-$1 lifesaver.

Add a squeeze of calamansi, extra scallions, maybe chili oil if the shop has it. If you’re plant-based, ask for “lugaw plain” (no chicken) or “tokwa” (tofu) on the side. It’s comfort, not spectacle, and it’s perfect.

7. Cambodia

Num banh chok—the Khmer noodle breakfast—might be one of the world’s highest joy-per-dollar outcomes. Fresh rice noodles, a light fish-based green curry (ask for extra herbs or a vegetarian version where available), and a salad’s worth of crisp greens. Street vendors commonly price it around 4,000 riel (about $1) in many neighborhoods. 

Grab it early. Most vendors are morning-only, and the best bowls vanish with the commute.

8. Morocco

Morocco’s “soup weather” is real, and when it hits, a bowl of harira or a ladle of bissara with bread at a neighborhood snack bar can be 5–10 dirhams—roughly $0.50–$1—depending on the town. Worker cafés and street counters still list these staples at that bracket, especially outside the tourist thick of things. 

If you’re wandering Fez or a small Rif village, look for the steam and the line of locals clutching coins. Order, tear bread, dip, repeat. It’s as nourishing as any tasting menu course.

9. Bangladesh

Dhaka teaches you that “snack” can do the work of “meal.” A plate of fuchka or chotpoti—crackly puris with tangy tamarind water and chickpeas, or a warm, spiced pea-and-potato mash—often runs in the Tk 50–120 zone at carts (about $0.40–$1.00), and we’re seeing menu boards for regular plates near Tk 106–120 at delivery-linked stalls.

It’s messy in the best way. Elbows out, napkin ready, grin on standby. If you don’t love it after the first bite, the second one will fix that.

10. Bolivia

Bolivia is one of those places where markets do all the heavy lifting. A warm salteña—baked pastry oozing with stew—can often be found for about one dollar in local stalls, and “almuerzo” counters sometimes post simple set lunches in the $1–$3 range depending on city and season. For pure buck-power, the salteña is the iconic play. 

I still think about a late morning in La Paz when I dripped salteña gravy on my camera strap and didn’t care. Cinnamon, cumin, sweetness, heat—like a stew decided it wanted to be portable.

How to keep it a dollar (ish) without feeling cheap

• Go where the line lives. Lines are price signals and quality control. If a cart feeds regulars on their lunch break, you’re in the right place.

• Ask “how much” first and smile. It’s respectful and prevents misunderstandings when you’re new to the currency. (I keep small notes/coins ready.)

• Order like a local. Don’t over-customize on your first pass. Learn the default, then riff.

• Mind the context. In capital cities and tourist hubs, $1 might get you a smaller portion. Two bites can still be one of your best meals if the craft is there.

• Plant-based travelers: these are friendly countries. Look for veg icons, say “no meat/fish/egg” clearly, and aim for bean, lentil, tofu/tempeh, or vegetable-forward classics.

But wait, isn’t everything more expensive now?

Inflation is real, and exchange rates bounce. What helps is thinking value, not just price. I’ve had $1 bowls that easily beat $15 plates on taste, story, and care. And yes, in each of these places, you still regularly find beloved street dishes at or around a dollar—especially outside the most touristed blocks and at more local hours. 

The point isn’t “cheap”—it’s “close”

You could spend more. You could chase the restaurant everyone’s posting. But there’s a special kind of closeness that comes from eating what a city eats, at the speed and price of the city. A good street meal compresses the distance between you and a place to the span of a bowl.

If a single dollar can buy that feeling, that’s not just a bargain. That’s travel working exactly like it should.