It’s almost 2020, and Mexico City continues to be one of the best eating cities in the world. So maybe you won’t find world cuisine the likes of New York or London, but instead you will be bowled over by a deep culinary tradition, genius chefs who were self-taught and a delicious meal waiting on every corner (and we mean every). No “best of” list will ever cover all the deliciousness awaiting you in Latin America’s foodie megalopolis, but here are a few places that we fell in love with in 2019.

Holiday traditions in Greece, like so much in that country, are rooted in ancient Greek and Roman customs – pagan, of course – that evolved through Byzantine times and were adapted with the advent of Christianity. More recently, the westernization of Christmas and New Year celebrations has made those holidays here look more like the globalized version of them, for better or for worse. Greeks like preserving their old traditions, however, and some customs still persist, even if many Greeks don’t know where they came from. The Christmas season, known in Greece as Dodekaimero (twelve days), officially begins on December 24, includes the celebration for the New Year and ends on January 6 with the huge celebration of Theophania (the baptism of Jesus Christ by John the Baptist).

Around this time of year, the smell of dough frying fills the air on a side street off Marseille’s busy Rue de Rome. The source of the enticing scent is Patisserie Avyel, a small kosher bakery and salon de thé in the midst of preparing for Hanukkah, which began on the evening of December 22. For Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights, Jews often make fried treats to commemorate the miraculous oil that kept a lamp burning for eight days instead of one in the rededicated Temple in Jerusalem some 2,200 years ago. Latkes – potato pancakes – might be the best-known Hanukkah food, but frying up dough is another popular tradition, with these holiday “doughnuts” varying by geography.

A bit like 2018, we saw a lot of old and traditional places closing in 2019, with many others threatened with closure – like Casa Cid, a tasca that has been operating since 1913. An investment group bought the building where the tasca is located and will turn it into a luxury hotel, forcing the tasca out in February; in response, the family behind Casa Cid launched a petition that calls for “more pork crackling less phony gourmet stuff.” Dozens of new places have opened in Lisbon, and while many are not successful, there are some that sparked our interest. We ate at amazing social projects like É Um Restaurante and modern tascas.

On our Hidden Flavors of the Hillside walk, we explore Lisbon’s historic neighborhoods of Mouraria and Graça. While the smell of change is in the air here – new communities are sinking roots and new restaurants are opening – we also visit traditional spots, like the city’s oldest coffee roaster, a third-generation family business.

In a city with such a conservative attitude toward gastronomy, it’s rare for new foods, new preparations and new trends to flourish. Naples has continued to reject the aggressive advances of globalized food: The number of fast food chains can be counted on one hand (although many have tried their luck in the city), and the latest international fashions, from poke to kebab, struggle to make inroads. There is one exception: the muffin, an American dessert that has become widespread in the city’s bars. But, of course, Neapolitans proceeded to modify this novelty according to the tastes and traditions of South Italy. It is not uncommon to find rustic savory muffins, made with ricotta and cigoli (pork crackling).

It turns out that, in Barcelona, 2019 was a year highlighted by great things that came in small packages, like pint-sized restaurants and simple, sometimes tiny products that nevertheless were a fantastic source of pleasure. But underlining all of these great, small things was a more fundamental element: their deep connections to people (producers and cooks) and place (a specific territory, the environment, life around it). This is the true greatness of food – things of such a large magnitude can be contained in a little corner bar, in a recipe of four ingredients, in a chocolate ball, a piece of bread, a tiny clam.

2019 was a good year for prying ourselves out of our Tbilisi comfort zone, filling the tank and getting out of town. For us it is a way to connect to the captivating earthy genuineness that prompted us to move here, but this year we wanted to meet some of the people who have become part of what we call a “return to the village” trend. On one trip to Kakheti last winter, we visited Sopo Gorgadze and Levan (Leo) Tsaguria, a Tbilisi couple who left the city to resume new lives as farmers in the village of Shalauri. Kicking back in their living room looking at the Caucasus Mountains stretching across the Alazani Valley, we learned how they became cheesemakers more by coincidence than by design.

Another year has gone by, another year full of beautiful restaurants and wonderful flavors. The art of cooking and the pleasure of eating have reached new heights in Athens, where it’s all about the dining experience. Restaurants keep popping up, impressing us with a wide variety of cuisines and creative twists, often presented in stunning environments. But their menus also reflect a growing environmental awareness and emphasis on sustainability, seasonality and freshness. Young, talented chefs are more and more becoming owners of their own restaurants, going beyond just cooking to cultivate relationships with their customers. Being both chef and food writer myself, I have the pleasure of experiencing this from both sides and understanding the importance of the relationship between the one doing the cooking and the one doing the eating.

Location, location, location is a familiar mantra of New York real estate; invariably it comes to bear on restaurants and other food businesses, too. When e-commerce giant Amazon decided not to build a second headquarters in Long Island City, many food vendors were disappointed, sometimes bitterly, at the loss of a possible 25,000 new customers. With an eye on the lunchtime rush just across the Hudson River, in Manhattan, they wondered, why not in Queens? By contrast, continual development in Flushing, albeit on a much smaller scale, continues to displace many small businesses. The food stalls in the lower level of the celebrated Golden Mall shuttered in late summer for a renovation that was planned to last several months; it seems nowhere near completion.

Editor’s note: We’re celebrating another year of excellent backstreets eating by reflecting on our favorite meals of 2019. Starting things off is a dispatch from Alexis Steinman, our Marseille bureau chief. This year began with a bang, when Marseille nabbed a coveted spot on the New York Times’ “52 Places To Go in 2019” list. Written by food writer Alexander Lobrano, the blurb lauded the city’s ever-expanding food scene. Throughout 2019, new restaurants opened, captained by chefs who trained at local tables, first-timers emboldened by the city’s entrepreneurial energy and Parisians seeking sun and the easygoing vibes that go along with it.

In the tale of Don Lázaro El Viajero, a Spanish Jew named Lázaro L. Torra, escaping the fascist advance in that nation’s civil war, fled in 1939 to Mexico City – one of tens of thousands that then-President Lázaro Cárdenas invited to find refuge in Mexico amid the black conflict of that war. By 1944 Torra had become something of a restaurateur/maestro, teaching kids in a kinda-working-class, kinda-middle-class neighborhood to speak in English and improve their Spanish and feeding them some decent grub in the same go. (The name of the restaurant, Mr. Lazarus the Traveler, has to do with its proximity to a road heading out of town before the city went all crazy huge and viral.) That was the deal. You got food, but you had to learn something in the process.

So ubiquitous as to be rendered almost invisible, the sticky bottles of soy sauce that decorate every table, counter and shelf in Japan are never far from reach. Both an ingredient and a condiment, there isn’t a chef in the land who would begrudge a diner a dash of the sleek black sauce – be it at a Michelin-starred sushi restaurant or a back street ramen joint. While the bottles are often slung behind stacked menus, their everyday presence is no sign that their contents should be underestimated. As common as table salt but infinitely more complex, the sweet, salty mix offers a glimpse of the sought-after umami flavor Japan is famous for.

On a blustery, drizzly winter afternoon in Istanbul, Muhittin Öztürk swipes his cell phone until he finds the photo he’s looking for: three men clad in blue aprons, standing behind a grill inside a small fishing boat. “That one’s my father, that one’s my uncle,” Öztürk says, pointing at the image. “This is the culture I come from.” Now a 35-year veteran of the business, Öztürk is the owner of the Derya, one of three gaudily adorned neo-Ottoman-style vessels moored to the shoreline in Eminönü, where a crew of cooks and waiters serve up fish sandwiches – balık ekmek (literally, “fish bread”) in Turkish – at a rapid pace to heaving crowds, most of whom are tourists.

A philosophical bar with a throwback name, Cuccuma Caffè opened in October 2018 as a counterpoint to the Neapolitan coffee culture – unlike the many, many bars where you sling back a shot of espresso while standing at the counter, this spot prioritizes a slow coffee. Achille Munari, 32, fell in love with Naples when he arrived 10 years ago from Umbria and decided to stay here in our city. A brilliant guy, Achille prefers a calm, relaxed pace of life, one that allows for reflection and conversation. So he decided to set up a bar that puts his life philosophy into practice.