The Higobashi area in Osaka’s Nishi Ward is an eclectic gastronomic oasis off the beaten path. While many head to the obvious tourist spots of Namba and Umeda to grab a bite, under-the-radar Higobashi is home to a diverse mix of eateries that showcase Osaka’s lesser-known flavors. While often seen as high end, the area has plenty of budget-friendly lunch spots and artisan sweets nearby. Also notable are the number of owner-run shops with a staff of one – think running the register with the left hand and rolling out dough with the right! Read on for our selection of some of the best offerings in this quaint neighborhood.

The morning after a festive night brings familiar symptoms: a throbbing headache, heartburn, perhaps an upset stomach. As people reach for something to soothe their hangover, they take part in a shared experience that transcends borders and cultures, uniting humanity in the eternal quest for the perfect hangover remedy. Korea has its own iconic day-after-drinking cure: haejangguk, which literally translates to “hangover soup.” It’s a hot, hearty soup filled with meat and vegetables, served with rice. Korean drinkers often joke that the salty, steaming broth pairs perfectly with a shot of soju, leading to the familiar scene of someone drinking soju alongside haejangguk to cure their hangover – only to end up drinking more.

Mention Thonburi to Bangkok people, and they’re likely to picture a distant, suburban – perhaps even rural – enclave. But the neighborhood is located just across the Chao Phraya River from Bangkok, imminently accessible via river-crossing ferries, bridges, and the Skytrain, and is home to a less-publicized yet visit-worthy, vibrant food scene. In particular, one Thonburi street, Thanon Tha Din Daeng, in the Khlong San area, is home to a huge variety of excellent legacy restaurants and stalls, not to mention a decent market, all of which can be visited on foot – a rarity in Bangkok.

In Guadalajara, every sidewalk, corner, garage, vacant lot, food cart, car wash, and even bicycle has the potential to become a food stand – a restaurant just waiting to happen. But what truly sets our city's gastronomy apart is its contradictions. It’s both stubborn and traditional, yet constantly evolving. It belongs to no one, and everyone. It’s both sacred and profane because, while we take our recipes seriously, we’re not afraid to push boundaries and bring them to unexpected places. Case in point: “birriamen” – a mashup of the very local dish birria with Japanese import ramen.

Shinjuku’s Omoide Yokocho (“Memory Lane”) gradually grew from the rubble of post-war Tokyo, and has since become an institution of sorts. It started out as a black market area and gradually morphed into the narrow bar-lined, charcoal smoke-filled alleyway it remains to this day, with little in the way of real change since the 1950s. It’s not just the alley’s looks that haven’t altered much over the years, but also the food on offer – in the late 1940s, a crackdown on controlled goods affected the food stalls, forcing the vendors to switch to products that weren’t controlled, such as roast giblets. It’s a shift reflected even now, as many places continue to serve yakitori (chicken skewers) and motsu (offal).

It’s an epic love story between the Menéres family and the land of Romeu, a remote village in the region of northeast Portugal called Trás-os-Montes, whose name literally means “beyond the mountains.” Over 150 years ago Clemente Menéres began the family farm, and today the Menéres estate continues to produce certified organic olive oil and wine, as well as cork, with absolute respect for the land and the people living and working in the hilly fields. On our arrival we’re received by João Menéres, the fifth generation to lead the family business, whose infectious enthusiasm resists the high temperatures of the scorching summer months and the unusually harsh cold of winter. João leads the way as we explore Romeu, sharing a bit of the family’s story along the way.

Pintxo bars abound in Bilbao, concentrated in the narrow streets of the Casco Viejo, the old town on the shores of the Nervion estuary. Known colloquially as Zazpikaleak (“seven streets” in the Basque language), this is where the city was born, and its streets are still full any day of the week with residents, shoppers, tradesmen and locals doing some old-fashioned poteo. If you plan on stepping foot in this Basque capital, you’d better learn what poteo is firsthand. The endurance required to barhop with a Basque is real, especially considering this social act consists of downing glass of wine after glass of wine in what is essentially a bar crawl. Fortunately, the Basques have invented their own coping mechanism – the pintxo.

As the temperature soars in Bangkok, it means two things: the arrival of Songkran, the Thai New year in April, and the much-anticipated season of a unique dish known as khao chae. If you’ve never heard of it, you are not alone, as this distinctive dish often flies under the foodie radar, overshadowed by favorites like green curry and pad Thai. Available only for a couple of months each year, khao chae is known for its cooling properties during the hot summer months. This adored tradition is a visually beautiful dish consisting of delicate grains of rice soaked in a fragrant jasmine ice bath accompanied by a selection of meticulously prepared components. While it may not be universally adored (many Thais seem to have mixed feelings about it), khao chae has experienced a revival in recent years thanks to a younger generation of locals who want to reconnect with their roots.

On Easter Sunday in Greece the star of the feast is the lamb, which is often substituted with goat. In some regions (and nowadays all across the country) it’s iconically slow roasted outdoors on a large rotating spit, symbolizing the sacrifice of Christ for the salvation of humanity. This tradition of spit roast lamb is linked to customs from ancient Greece and the Jewish Passover. In many parts of Greece, tradition calls for other recipes for cooking or roasting Easter lamb. Tradition generally dictates that the whole Easter lamb must be used and consumed – including the offal and head – as the lamb here is symbolic and represents the animal sacrificed during the Resurrection of Christ, and thus serves as a tribute to the divine sacrifice.

It’s said that the massive gold Buddha statue at Bangkok temple Wat Traimit was once hidden away – its value concealed from an approaching army under a thick layer of plaster. It was only when workers were relocating it in the 1950s that the statue fell and the plaster exterior cracked, revealing a core of solid gold. If Wat Traimit has another hidden treasure, we’d argue that it’s Khun-Yah Cuisine. Enter one of Bangkok’s most visited temples and wind through tour buses and rows of tourists, guides, and Buddhist monks to the eastern edge of the compound; keep your eyes peeled, and you’ll see an almost garage-like space and a sign. This is Khun-Yah Cuisine.

It's a grey early spring day in the bustling coastal district of Üsküdar on the Anatolian side of Istanbul. The holy month of Ramadan is in its last days, and many Istanbullites are fasting until the evening. Some of those who aren't are waiting in a long queue outside of the local kent lokantası (“city restaurant”) for a late lunch, and this is the best deal around. 40 TL (US $1.05) gets you a main course with meat, a side or two, and a bowl of soup. Today, the menu is döner, buttery rice pilaf, and lentil soup, and we've arrived with an empty stomach. This restaurant is among the more than 15 that have been opened and operated by the Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality (IMM) since 2022, and they have become increasingly popular and necessary as Turkey's rampant inflation and soaring food prices have hit the city's residents hard.

Walk down a given street in Tbilisi and you will smell the seductive aroma of fresh bread wafting out of old cellar bakeries, baked in cylindrical ovens just like it always has. Listen to the refrain of “matzoni, matzoni,” being sung by women lugging bags packed with jars of the fresh sour yogurt at eight in the morning in every neighborhood. We used to boast how Georgia’s food culture and Tbilisi’s restaurants were some of the world’s best-kept secrets, but the word is out, and we’re good with that. Georgia has a bottomless, wild culinary spirit full of rewarding surprises, and we’ve been diving into it for more than a decade here at Culinary Backstreets. For us, it doesn’t matter whether the khinkali we eat are meat-packed grenades or pesto- and mushroom-stuffed buttons. Either way, they’re Georgian. All they have to be is tasty. We’ve collected a sample of our most essential Tbilisi restaurants, so you can get your own taste of Georgia.

Even for someone like myself who has lived in Japan for a long time, sliding open the door of an unfamiliar place can still be a little intimidating, as what lies beyond is invariably a complete unknown. Still, the effort is almost always worth it, as it provides entry into a whole new world, and more often than not, one where time has stood still. This is especially true in the suburban areas outside of Tokyo, where things are generally more dated, and in many ways, simply more real, offering a sense of what daily life in the Japanese capital is like. These are not soulless suburbs but rather little cities on the edge of the big city that have more than enough options for everyday living – a mix of shops and eateries, plus lots of apartment buildings and small, two-story homes. There is a whole world of bars and restaurants to be found here, each place a unique spot to have a drink, enjoy some food, and soak up the old-school atmosphere.

Perhaps the most glorious and satisfying aspect about calling Istanbul home is the infinite potential for discovery. Even on streets we've wandered down hundreds or thousands of times, we still find ourselves noticing small details, like a hand-painted apartment sign; a grand, winding staircase at the entrance of an old building; or the fading blue address numbers that were replaced years ago but can still be spotted here and there in Istanbul's older, central neighborhoods. What took us aback recently was the discovery of a restaurant on a main avenue that passes through the edges of Pangaltı, Kurtuluş, Bomonti and Feriköy – a small büfe hidden in plain sight, open for over 40 years but with no social media presence or even (until recently), a single Google review.

Suriname and Guyana are next-door neighbors on the northern shore of South America, yet within the Queens culinary scene, the visibility of these two countries couldn't be more different. When we arrive in South Richmond Hill, at the terminus of the elevated A train, signs welcome us to Little Guyana, and at many local markets, bakeries and restaurants, it's no challenge to find Guyanese food. Surinamese food is another matter. Outside of private kitchens, until recently the only reliable source of such specialties as pom and baka bana had been the yearly Sranan Dey festival in nearby Roy Wilkins Park.