New to the city, migrants turn to making and selling low-overhead-cost street foods. The daily street fare is as diverse as the individuals serving it and varies from season to season.

Turkey has a rich dairying tradition, beginning thousands of years ago with nomadic tribes herding goats through the Anatolian steppes. Although Turkey is full of good cheeses that are breakfast staples, these cheeses do not have the range of flavors and textures that, say, the French have with their cheese cornucopia. Three young sheep farmers and cheese makers near the Aegean coastal town of Edremit are changing that.

Until a few years ago, breakfast eateries were not very common in Rio. Cariocas would have breakfast at home or at a bakery, while tourists had to make do with the always-boring "Continental breakfast" offered at hotels. But thankfully, everything has changed.

Shouning Lu is known as Crawfish Street, with street food vendors often stewing, grilling and frying up the same seafood dishes up and down the one-block stretch. But there’s one land-lubbing vendor that has carved out a niche for itself: Ǎizi Xiànbǐng (矮子馅饼), or Dwarf’s Pastries.

In Mesoamerica, beans have been a pillar of culinary traditions – not to mention civilizations – from time immemorial. Pre-Columbian peoples depended on legumes as their primary source of protein, but they were more than mere sustenance. Beans (along with corn) were some of the most important crops for sale at the local markets because they could be used as currency. Their value was based on the physical appearance of the product (color and size). The Aztecs included beans in the list of tributes that their vassal states had to pay. Bernardino de Sahagún, a Spanish friar, documented the use of beans in the Aztec empire, noting that the native people ate tamales mixed with beans. Storing and administering these crops was critical in order to be prepared for times of shortage.

Known in Catalan as mongetes – “little nuns,” as Catalonia’s oldest kind of beans resemble the pale face of a nun in her black habit – or fesols, from the Latin phaseolus, beans are an integral part of the region’s culinary traditions. If Catalan home cooking could be represented by a single dish, it would be butifarra amb mongetes, peppery pork sausage which is either grilled or fried and served with a little mountain of delicious beans: simple, filling and soul-warming. But in Catalonia the number of dishes made with legumes is infinite. In fact, many local restaurants offer a choice of beans or potatoes to go with all manner of seafood or meat preparations, from chicken to pork or veal, or from cod to squid or sardines.

The official cold blew in last month. Winds pierced thick cotton clothing through to the skin, into the body and further into the bone while we were driving in the open rickshaw, after the sun slipped down. Then it rained and thundered, the kind that makes one jump with the clap. When the morning air hit the airways, balminess laced with pollution infiltrated the atmosphere. To get and stay warm is work here. We seek out the afternoon sun to heat our bodies and dry our clothes. Another way to keep the chills at bay is to ensure a supply of dense foods and hot liquids.

We’ve written previously about the immense diversity of Mexican cooking: Every region has unique traditions that build upon ingredients common to much of the country. And yet there are a few regions that stand out for the variety and vividness of the flavors, colors and tastes found there.

[Editor's note: We're sorry to report that Bamboo Sichuan has closed.] The temperature has officially fallen off the register, and there are days when Shanghai seems bleak indeed, the cumulus clouds of winter hugging the skyline uncomfortably close.It’s times like these when we look to western China for inspiration, and nothing but Sichuanese-style roasted fish (四川烤鱼, sìchuān kǎo yú) will do to lift the spirits and drive away the bleary stagnations of cold, wet weather. This dish is common in Chengdu, the heart of Sichuan and an undisputed food center of the Middle Kingdom. Located in the Red Basin and hemmed in by imposing peaks that wander towards the Himalayan foothills, this cheerful culinary capital – much like Shanghai – in December boasts an icy humidity that seeps into the joints and refuses to leave.

Editor’s note: In the latest installment of our recurring feature, First Stop, we asked Charles King where he stops first for food when he heads to Istanbul. King is professor of international affairs and government at Georgetown University and the author of Midnight at the Pera Palace: The Birth of Modern Istanbul and other books. Istanbul is famously a city for strolling, but the steep hillsides of the Bosphorus and the twisting streets of the old city south of the Golden Horn can leave you either breathless or plain lost. Kuzguncuk, on the Asian side of the city, has the advantage of allowing you to explore a magnificent neighborhood via a short walk along a plane tree-shaded main street, with only minimal roaring cars and plenty of lazy street dogs to accompany you.

It’s always tempting to try and take on all three major museums in Tokyo’s Art Triangle in one day. It would be easy to be overwhelmed by the delicious treasures of the National Art Center Tokyo, the Suntory Museum of Art and the Mori Art Museum, so we usually opt for just one and head to Naniwa afterwards for a pot of tea and their delicious taiyaki, a popular form of Japanese sweets (wagashi).

Editor’s note: To cap off our annual review of the year’s best eating experiences, we’ve unleashed our imaginations to create the Turkish food court of our dreams. After a period of protest, we finally broke down and visited the Zorlu Center, a new, high-profile shopping mall in Istanbul and a showcase of international brand names, from Fendi to Jamie Oliver. Our initial attraction was the promise of a particularly well-kept playground, but while we were there, we visited Eataly, the all-Italian culinary emporium.

Editor’s note: The year is coming to an end, which means it’s time for us to look back on all the great eating experiences we had in 2014 and name our favorites among them. Pavlidis This modern-looking patisserie is located in central Athens on busy Katehaki, a street more associated with car mechanics than with any sort of food. The Pavlidis family has been in the pastry business since 1932. Famous for its galaktoboureko, this patisserie actually prides itself on its mandoles, a rock-shaped chocolate concoction with caramelized almonds. But really, it’s the kaimaki ice cream which comes in two different variations that we love most. Good kaimaki ice cream is hard to come by; it tends to be quite heavy. Pavlidis makes its version the classic – and correct – way, using buffalo milk, mastic and salepi, flour made from the root of wild orchids, which produces a milky and chewy treat. The bitter almond version is a fragrant, melt-in-your-mouth masterpiece. This is far and away our favorite ice cream in Athens.

Editor’s note: The year is coming to an end, which means it’s time for us to look back on all the great eating and drinking experiences we had in 2014 and name our favorites among them. Ferro e Farinha We have the Fulbright Program to thank for this newcomer – a one-of-a-kind Rio dining destination. Pizza chef and New Yorker Sei Shiroma had put out a Craigslist ad looking for a roommate, and a Brazilian exchange student studying linguistics answered it. The two went from being roommates to eventually marrying. This gave Shiroma a motive to bring his mobile pizza oven down to Rio, where he gained a devoted Facebook following in spite of the very un-carioca style of dining he was proposing. (Eating with your hands, on the street? The concept does bear some similarity to the cheap drunk food of the podrões – the “rotten” food trucks that dot Rio’s streets late through the night.)

Editor’s note: The year is coming to an end, which means it’s time for us to look back on all the great eating experiences we had in 2014 and name our favorites among them. Can Pineda At this tiny, century-old restaurant in the neighborhood of El Clot, we ate a simple dish of guisantes lágrima (“tear-shaped peas”) with little bits of jamón ibérico, one of the most delicious culinary treasures we have had all year – and one we will remember for a long time to come.