The weather is turning cold and Japan’s convenience stores, or konbini, have hauled out the oden service pans and positioned them next to the cashier counters. For those not familiar with oden, the sight of assorted flotsam and jetsam afloat in a clear broth and the fishy aroma impinging on their space while paying for a soft drink or chewing gum might seem puzzling. For those who love oden, though, it’s a happy reminder that there will be many ways to enjoy this hearty dish – a kind of hotpot that contains a pantry's worth of ingredients in a light broth – as winter unfolds. A good way to enjoy the best quality oden is at odenya restaurants, which specialize in this Japanese staple.

“Don’t talk over the sake.” Sake evangelist Gordon Heady is holding a cup, reverentially, and pauses slightly before lifting it to his lips. He is instructing us on how to evaluate the liquid properly. Take a sip, hold it in your mouth, breathe in slightly through your mouth, swill it round, swallow, breath out through your nose. Sit with the aftertaste. Let it develop.

Upon entering Al Fresco in the Ballarò neighborhood, we are struck by both the kind welcome and the special location – the restaurant is set in a garden enclosed within the walls of Casa San Francesco, a former seventeenth-century convent, lit by strings of lights dangling between plants and saplings. There is an immediate sense of openness, freedom and freshness. This is no coincidence: while “al fresco” in Italian can refer to the chill of being out in the open air, it is also an expression used to mean “life in prison.” The double meaning makes sense in this case – despite its first impression as a regular eatery, perhaps the most special feature of Al Fresco is that working in the kitchen and in the dining room are former inmates who have joined the team following their release from prison.

On the Rue d’Aubagne, Tunisian men dunk bread into bowls of leblebi – a garlicky chickpea soup – as scooters dash by. A dashiki-clad Togolese woman plucks cassava from the Vietnamese-run market to fry up for lunch. A boy buys Algerian flatbread, kesra, to snack on after school as Maghrebi teens in track pants sell single “Marl-bo-ros.”

Whether it’s a weekend morning or weekday dinner, the 20-seat Azay in Little Tokyo is packed. On a nice day, extra tables are set up on the sidewalk, also filling up quickly. Inside the restaurant, chef Akira Hirose and his son, Philip, work the kitchen, while Akira’s wife, Jo Ann, greets customers. Azay only opened in Little Tokyo in 2019, but the legacy of chef Akira Hirose and his family goes much further, both in the Los Angeles food scene and in Little Tokyo in general.

It’s a cold December afternoon when we arrive at the headquarters of Tamales de Tia Tila in San Gabriel Etla, about 45 minutes outside of Oaxaca City. Knocking on the door, we catch a whiff of spices and corn that the cold wind quickly steals away. But as soon the door swings open, revealing a family with faces half-covered in masks and hands busy at work, waves of warm, fragrant air envelope us. The tamal workshop is brimming: a man is moving stews, a woman pressing dough, an older woman laying corn husks and banana leaves on one of the many tables. Everyone’s movements are so precise and focused that we feel guilty for intruding. But that feeling fades away when a young girl waves us in and brings over a cup of hot coffee.

It’s a cold December afternoon when we arrive at the headquarters of Tamales de Tia Tila in San Gabriel Etla, about 45 minutes outside of Oaxaca City. Knocking on the door, we catch a whiff of spices and corn that the cold wind quickly steals away. But as soon the door swings open, revealing a family with faces half-covered in masks and hands busy at work, waves of warm, fragrant air envelope us. The tamal workshop is brimming: a man is moving stews, a woman pressing dough, an older woman laying corn husks and banana leaves on one of the many tables. Everyone’s movements are so precise and focused that we feel guilty for intruding. But that feeling fades away when a young girl waves us in and brings over a cup of hot coffee.

January is a busy time in Georgia: following New Year’s Eve are two weeks of visits and celebrations with friends and family that culminate with what’s known as Old New Year on January 14. The Georgian Orthodox Church still uses the ancient Julian calendar, which sees Christmas falling on January 7th and New Year on January 14th, and while the Old New Year is now a smaller celebration than the one on December 31st, it still marks the end of the festive holiday period and is celebrated by feasting with loved ones. During the comings and goings in this period, sweet, diamond-shaped pieces of a walnut brittle called gozinaki are an obligatory part of the welcome for guests. “Gozinaki is so important to Georgian families for the New Year,” explains Irma Laghdaze, a cooking instructor in Tbilisi.

“It’s the king of Portuguese gastronomy,” declares Miguel Oliveira. He’s describing pudim Abade de Priscos, one of Portugal’s most infamous desserts, and the dish that is the specialty of his Lisbon sweets shop. Allegedly invented by the eponymous abbot in the 19th century (pudim is a term that refers to a variety of steamed desserts in Portugal), the dish unites a staggering 15 egg yolks, sugar, pork fat, port wine and aromatics in the form of a gleaming, golden ring. It’s easily the most over-the-top dessert in a country of already over-the-top desserts, and is the dish that has captivated Miguel more than any other.

“You can’t call yourself Mexican if you don’t eat rosca de reyes,” jokes Rafa Rivera, head baker and owner of Forte Bread and Coffee in Mexico City. Distracted, he stops grating orange peel long enough to muse about the king’s cake he is making. Only 29, he already has several businesses under his belt, and is about to open a second Forte location in Colonia Juarez. Rafa opened the flagship Forte in the Roma Norte neighborhood, serving up delicious pastries and coffee, with beans from Pólvora Coffee Roasters – where his brother Julián is the lead roaster. (In 2017, Julián won first prize in the Mexican Brewers Cup Championship with his Pólvora beans.)

When I think of Christmas and the festive season, I’m immediately transported back to my childhood. Christmas to a child is something magical – the massive tree lit up and surrounded by gifts, stockings hung on the fireplace, a warm home filled with loving faces. And, of course, food always plays an important role in my memories of the holidays. Even though I don’t come from a very traditional family, certain customs – particularly those related to food – were devotedly repeated every single year with no second thought. Every year during the Christmas season, I realize how much I miss these rituals.

Kuaytiaw khua kai, wide rice noodles fried in a wok with marinated chicken, preserved squid, and eggs, is a dish with undeniably Chinese elements, but is quite possibly one that was invented in Thailand – most likely in Bangkok’s Chinatown. In and around the Phlap Phla Chai Intersection, no fewer than five restaurants and stalls serve the dish, but our favorite is without a doubt Suan Mali Chicken Noodle. The vendors here fry the dish the old-school way, over coals, in lard, finishing by flipping the knot of noodles flapjack-style, resulting in a dish with ample singed bits and a whiff of smoke.

These days, we can feel a change in Barcelona’s food scene. On one hand, the local cuisine is continually enriched with intercultural dialogue, blended recipes, fusion ingredients or crossroads dishes. Frequently, Catalan restaurant owners pair with partners and team members from around the world, fostering the kind of creativity and collaboration that we love to see. On the other hand, Barcelona’s culinary traditions are being reclaimed by a whole generation of trained chefs who glorify their grandmother’s cooking and local recipes, seeking to elevate and share them. Innovation is supported by tradition, and the culinary experience here continues to grow with the addition of sophisticated techniques, an eye toward sustainable and local ingredients and historical concepts.

The food scene in Greece is constantly being enriched. More and more local chefs are opening their own restaurants, many of which have a creative focus on the local cuisine and produce. Seasonality, sustainability, tradition and high-quality ingredients are in the spotlight and traditional cuisine gets to shine with the sophisticated touch of a talented younger generation of Greek chefs. The restaurant scene – especially in Athens – is also complemented by diverse cuisines of other cultures brought into Greece by immigrants who have made their homes here. Authentic dishes from all over the world can now be found in different corners of the city, bringing flavor to quieter, less-central neighborhoods where rent is still affordable as prices rise across Athens.

Seems like old times: Dining out in Queens, whether we're grabbing a quick bite or sitting down for a meal, is nearly as exciting a prospect in late 2023 as it was in the first few months of 2020, before the arrival of the Covid-19 pandemic. Yes, serendipitous encounters with friends are still less likely, and scheduled lunches and dinners are sometimes painstaking to arrange. But when we do get out and about, there are many new restaurants, cafés, bakeries, markets and street vendors to discover, many new dishes to try, many old favorites to revisit. We keep a list (it gets longer all the time), and we imagine you do, too. Here are a few of our recent favorites for you to keep in mind.