This beige-walled, gray-roofed supermarket, squeezed between razor wire-rimmed industrial warehouses and North Hollywood train tracks, isn’t much to look at. The name, Pacific Coast Food, fails to hint at what one may find inside: a nirvana of edible nostalgia for those who grew up in the Soviet Union and Communist Eastern Bloc. Colloquially, it’s known as the “Russian Costco,” after the American wholesale giant, and a more fitting name for the aisles upon aisles of snacks and mainstays coming from Eastern Europe, Central Asia and the Caucasus region. The business was initially opened as a wholesaler in 2010 with San Fernando Valley’s Slavic, Baltic and Western-and-Central Asian communities in mind; notably Studio City’s huge Russian enclave and the Armenian strongholds of North Hollywood and Glendale.

Our first encounter with the chaulafan from Leticias, an Ecuadorian restaurant in Corona, was at the 2021 season opener of the nearby Queens Night Market. As it cooked outdoors – in a wok over high heat, a testament to the dish's origins among Chinese immigrant workers – the fried rice was a dramatic sight. Our second encounter was outdoors, too, at sidewalk table, although the wok was confined to the kitchen. We didn't watch the fried rice as it cooked, but the presentation told the same story of culinary connection: Our chaulafan was served in a deep bowl that mimicked a Chinese takeout container.

The 2.7 square-miles of L.A.’s Koreatown holds one of the densest concentrations of restaurants, bars and nightclubs in the U.S. Hundreds of restaurants specializing in traditional Korean cooking buzz within the borders of the world’s largest such neighborhood. Here, Angelenos sample san-nakji, a plate of chopped live octopus, the tiny tentacles clinging to the cheeks of those trying their best to slurp down the wriggling pieces. Goat lovers delight at Mirak Restaurant, where the staple is a fortifying black goat stew known as yumso-tang. The menu at Palsaik is devoted entirely to pork belly and its purported health benefits. Destinations for grill-it-yourself barbecue, soondobu jjigae (a stew based on soft tofu, meats, chiles and other items), rice porridge and cold noodles are legion.

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 in 2020 begins on the evening of December 10. 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.

It's nearing the end of 2021 and Turkey is bracing stormy weather. The economy is struggling, the Turkish lira has lost a quarter of its value this year, rental prices are soaring nationwide and purchasing power has been compromised. On top of it all, already sky-high taxes on alcohol were hiked again earlier this month, making it increasingly more difficult for people to drown their problems in a drink or four. The country's liquor sector has been hampered by a full-blown advertising ban since 2013 that even prevents companies from opening an Instagram account. All things considered, one might think it a bad time to produce what is essentially Turkey's first boutique rakı.

At first glance, quince can often pass as a larger version of its cousin the pear. But it becomes a bright golden yellow as it matures – hence, it’s longstanding nickname, “the golden apple.” When the quince made its way west from south Asia and the Caucasus into Ancient Greece, the fruit quickly took to the soils of Cydonia (Κυδωνία), a town in northern Crete now known as Chania. This is a region that became famous in the ancient world for the production of the finest quinces. Known as “kodymalon” back then, this hard, yellow fruit is scientifically the Cydonia oblonga, so-named for its new Greek home. The ancient Greeks made good use of them, both in savory and sweet dishes.

Since the start of the Covid-19 pandemic, the value of shopping local has grown more and more apparent, especially in France. The country that coined the term hypermarché (big-box store) has returned to its roots. As of January 2021, 75% of consumers put “regional products” at the top of their shopping priority list, according to a report by France 3 news. Another study by AlixPartners confirmed that “friendliness is the foundation for retailers.” Serving up these two artifacts revived form another era is a new épicerie in the heart of Marseille. Fernand et Lily combines regional goods and old-fashioned conviviality. Owner Julien Baudoin has passionately and personally selected each of the shop’s products – including Marseille-made microbrews, Provençal nougat and raw cow’s milk cheese from the Hautes-Alpes.

Homestead Gourmet Shop in Kew Gardens, with its quaint, peeling sign and cheery strudel-filled front window, looks like a Disney vision of the Old World. Its employees, clad in all white with old-fashioned paper hats, evoke a 1950s soda fountain shop. It feels like a relic in a forgotten corner of the city. In fact, German fare like the kind served here has become something of a relic in the contemporary American food scene, as changing tastes have led to the shuttering of dozens of old-school German dining institutions around the country. At Homestead, though, this kind of food is alive and well – thanks, in a very Queens-like twist, to a Polish immigrant who went from working at the counter to owning the place.

Birria is among the biggest culinary buzzwords across the U.S. today – only it’s not the goat-based Jalisco recipes that get the attention. birria de chivo, the signature dish of the state. Most people, especially Jaliscans, traditionally think of birria as being made from goat. Hector’s version, tatemada, involves a final roast of birria de chivo in the oven, making the skin charred and crisp. When the hour strikes eight on Saturday morning, Hector Ramirez pulls the wooden handle on a cast-iron lid sealing his self-constructed, propane-fueled, cylindrical oven and unveils his birria tatemada.

For every level of society inside and outside Mexico, cantinas serve as both toxin and tonic for drink, song, jocularity, wit, mayhem and mishap. Tio Pepe, now thought to be the oldest such bar in the old Aztec capital, has provided both in equal measure since way before it received its present name in 1878. The cantina is nowadays a refuge for Mexican politicians, as the nation’s state department and the city’s supreme court sit in front of it. On a Tuesday at noon, we found a huddle of operatives gathered in a booth arguing amid cocktails. We sat down with Don Sebastian Alvarez, who took up bartending at Tío Pepe in 1987, a witness to the ebb and flow of politicians, luminaries and troublemakers passing through the doors.

It’s Sunday morning in Los Angeles. Behind the white door of a single-story house that blends in with its suburban neighbors, Jalia Walusimbi starts her day as she does every other. Stripping the tough green skins from a cluster of plantains, she plunks the peeled fruit into a boiling pot to prepare a dish of matooke covered in peanut-based binyebwa to pair with the samosas, mbuzi goat soup and luwombo she’ll shortly place before the homesick Ugandan expats and curious culinary tourists who visit the informal restaurant she runs from inside her Van Nuys dining room.

As travel comes back and all of us begin reconnecting with the world, we would like to start our annual guide with what we believe is the best kind of gift: experiences. If you have a loved one that’s planning to hit the road in 2022, take a look at our culinary walks or trips and consider purchasing a CB gift certificate for them (you can find them here). Last year, at a time when it was difficult to make connections between travelers and our local heroes, we put together a series of boxes from our cities featuring some of our favorite bites and ingredients. In addition to this year’s recommended products, we have brought a handful of our city boxes back for the 2021 holiday season.

Looking for the best Shanghai-style noodles, for the city’s most slurpable strands? From hairy crab specialists to the sesame sauce of your dreams, there’s something for everyone. Come prepared to chow down, but don’t forget there’ll be a wait at most of these joints. Reservations are not available for these mom-and-pop owned shops, and demand for these nostalgic flavors is high, especially during the breakfast and lunch rush.

The Georgian culinary experience is all about the dinner, stereotypically a glutton’s nirvana of singularly delicious foods stacked plate by plate to the ceiling alongside beer pitchers full of wine. This might explain why, after a night of belt-popping gourmandizing, there is very little in the way of a breakfast culture in Tbilisi. Another explanation might be that Tbiliseli are not morning people. Most cafes open around 11 a.m., which is about the time our neighborhood baker is slapping his first batch of bread in the tone. Nevertheless, people do break the fast at home, often with leftover bread and butter or a chunk of cheese, or maybe day-old khachapuri.

Whether it’s Hacı Beşir Usta’s çiğ köfte from Istanbul’s Kadınlar Pazarı, a perfectly steamed Oaxacan tamale by Tia Tila or the Pang family’s late-night dumplings in Shanghai, street food and the folks who make it are the heart and soul of Culinary Backstreets. Yes, we love street food. It’s tasty. It’s fast. It’s cheap. But the carts, trucks and stands serving up our favorite snacks are also an integral part of the communities they operate in. There are the beloved vendors who have been local fixtures for decades and the hardworking entrepreneurs trying to get their start. Whatever their story, these street vendors are hardworking people worth celebrating. On this International Street Vendor Day, we’ve gathered together some of our favorite street vendor stories from over a decade of fanatic street eating.