Summer in Provençe ushers in a multitude of promises. In Marseille, it means waking to the song of the cicadas, day trips by boat to le Frioul to cool off in the sea and the afternoon rendezvous with friends for an apéro of pastis or rosé on ice. Saturdays bring the bliss of wandering through the markets in search for the perfect melon from Cavaillon, the ciflorette strawberries from Carpentras, or the succulent coeur de boeuf tomato. Perhaps the one market item that signifies the Provençal summer more than anything else is the fleur de courgette (zucchini flower). When this lovely little flower appears, we know it is officially summertime in the South.

When we first arrived in Marseille, we heard rumblings about a most intriguing ice cream flavor. A “black vanilla” whose color and savory taste was rumored to come from squid ink, fitting for the city’s Mediterranean perch. In a city where exaggeration is the norm, we had to go check it out for ourselves. A long line snaked from Vanille Noire, the name of both the ice cream shop and famous flavor. The vendor handed us our scoop, so black it looked like a photo negative of a vanilla cone. Our first lick was rich Madagascar vanilla. A few seconds later, the sweet became salty like the seaside air. We were hooked – regardless of what it was made of.

In France’s oldest and perhaps most rebellious city, the food culture is a direct reflection of its character: fiercely independent, unburdened by the strict codes of Parisian gastronomy, and deeply shaped by its ancient identity as a bustling port. For millennia, ingredients, people, and traditions have washed ashore here, creating a culinary DNA that is not French, but Marseillais – a vibrant mix of Provençal terroir, Italian soul, and North African spice. This is not a city that asks for permission. It cooks what it knows, with what it has, for the people who call it home. Navigating this landscape requires moving beyond the idea of a simple "best of" list. For us at Culinary Backstreets, an "essential" Marseille restaurant is one that tells a crucial part of the city's story. It might be a family-run pizzeria that has become a neighborhood institution, a humble snack shack preserving a street-food tradition, or a modern kitchen where a chef’s dual heritage is expressed on the plate. The following collection is a guide to these vital places, curated from years of on-the-ground reporting. These are the spots that, to us, capture the true, eclectic, and deeply satisfying spirit of Marseille.

We wind our way through the narrow streets of the Cours Julien, filled with warm-weather revelers who gather in the lively neighborhood’s bars and restaurants. Tonight our destination is Rue des Trois Rois (Three Kings Street), where we have dinner reservations at Zesti, a Greek restaurant that opened in fall 2024. The small, quaint room is already packed with diners. We are quickly greeted by Fiola Lecuyer, Zesti’s co-owner and charming front-of-the-house extraordinaire. She moves through the crowded room with the grace of a dancer and somehow manages to remember everyone’s name.

Lavash is so integral to Armenian life that UNESCO placed it on the list of Intangible Cultural Heritage in 2014. Armenians roll the thin flatbread into wraps or dunk it in dips like smoky eggplant moutabal. Instead of throwing rice at weddings, they drape the supple flatbread over newlyweds’ shoulders for good luck. More than mere food, UNESCO champions lavash for its collective baking process that strengthens community and family ties. This is exactly what a new Armenian boulangerie is doing in Marseille.

We’ve never seen a place like Eater Food Club. Advertised as a food court in the non-touristy Saint-Pierre neighborhood, we expected a shopping center or one of the more modern food halls that are all the rage. Instead, we found a non-descript corridor that seemed more corporate than culinary. Yet in lieu of office doors, the hallway is lined with counters at open kitchens. Despite this unique layout, Eater Food Club slings standard food-court fare like burgers, bao, and pizza. Among these, Cha’houla stands out for its Comorian food. At Cha’houla, you’ll find comforting Comorian dishes like madaba – stewed manioc leaves – and n’tibe beef stew. “My greatest pride is sharing my culture,” beams the young owner, Fayad Hassani. Marseille has more Comorians than the island nation’s capital, Moroni, yet their cuisine is relatively unknown here due to very few Comorian restaurants.

On March 27 of this year, Monique and Josef, the Moroccan-born couple that own Patisserie Avyel, plan to roast a turmeric-coated lamb shoulder above a bed of onions. My friend Judith, whose family hails from Algeria’s Tlemcen region, will blend almonds and raisins into mlosia, a thick jam. And, in my apartment, I will simmer matzo balls in chicken broth as my Lithuanian ancestors once did. All of us Marseillais will be cooking these foods for Passover, the Jewish holiday that commemorates the exodus of the Israelites from Egyptian slavery. While Jewish celebrations and cooking are as intertwined as the braided challah bread we eat on Shabbat – “all of our fêtes pass through the kitchen,” quips Frédérique, a Marseillaise with Tunisian roots.

During the winter months, we all like to curl up and hibernate a bit with our favorite calorie-packed, stick-to-the-bones comfort food. In France, that might be a cassoulet, which has its origins in Castelnaudary, a town in the Occitanie region. Or perhaps a boeuf bourguignon from the Burgundy region in eastern France, or a gratin dauphinois from the Dauphiné region in the country’s southeast. Here in Marseille, we often enjoy a big bowl of coucsous, brought to the city from Tunisia or Algeria and prepared in local eateries by the restaurateurs of Maghrebi heritage. All of these dishes are crave-worthy, but the king of kings, a simple dish that practically everyone will show up for when invited, is the fondue Savoyarde from the Savoie region in the French Alps.

When it comes to cultural identity, France carries the flag for universalism. This ideal aims to unite French citizens regardless of their ancestral roots, country of origin, or religion. You are French first, not a hyphen that encompasses multiple identities (i.e. Franco-Algerian.) In Marseille – a city which proudly differs from the rest of France – universalism isn’t universally practiced, since many Marseillais embrace their blend of cultural heritage. Franco-Congolese chef Hugues Mbenda does this skillfully at his delicious duo of restaurants, Kin and Libala. Both are housed in one location in the city center, a two-for-one-special born from a collaboration with Hugues’s partner, Mathilde Godart. By day, Libala serves up lip-smacking street food while Kin parades gastronomic plates at nightfall. Both mix Mediterranean and Congolese ingredients.

It can be hard to narrow down our notable Marseille food memories from the year into a finite list. This dynamic port city makes for a colorful culinary destination, a place where traditional Provençal cuisine coexists alongside – and at times, is infused with – the many international influences brought here by travelers, immigrants, and creative chefs alike. From Colombian bakes to Medjool dates, sit-down dinners to fresh market finds, these are just a few of our favorite bites from 2024 in Marseille. We return again and again to À Moro for the dreamy vitello tonnato, which is a standard on their menu. Vitello tonnato is an unexpected surf and turf recipe from the 18th century, originating in the Piemonte region of Italy.

Prior to the popularity of French bouillon restaurants in Paris in the mid 1800s, (restaurants that served a simple piece of meat in a soup stock for a good price) there was the French traiteur. A precursor to the restaurant as we know it, a traiteur (the word can roughly be translated as “caterer”) offers prepared meals to go. During the 18th century, many city dwellers did not have kitchens in their homes, so the traiteur was paramount to everyday life in French culture. Today, there are over 10,000 traiteurs serving the French population. The traiteur, then, is French takeout, but immeasurably better. Typically, there is no seating on the premises of a traiteur, but occasionally there may be a few tables. The window displays showcasing the various dishes are a source of pride for the owner or chef and serve to lure passersby at lunch time.

On a sunny fall day, we make our way down the narrow, bustling street called Rue Fontange, just near the marché in La Plaine, the large historic square that a friend refers to as “the place for everyone.” Lined with small boulangeries, épiceries, and restaurants, this stretch is known for some of the best treats in the city. It’s an apropos location for a sandwich shop, midway between the popular neighborhoods of Cours Julien and Notre Dame du Mont. With its colorful facade, streetside tables that are already occupied, and a small line forming outside, it’s easy to spot Razzia, our lunchtime destination.

Jean-Pierre Ferrato has vin coursing through his veins. Since as young as he can remember, he spent time at Chez Ferrato, his grandfather’s wholesale-retail wine shop. Grandpa Ferrato would siphon French and Algerian table wine from giant wooden barrels into glass bottles, then bring them to restaurants and individuals on his delivery tricycle. Customers would return the bottles, les consignes, for Ferrato to wash, dry, then reuse again. The process was a ton of work – “It was eco-friendly before the word even existed,” winks Jean-Pierre. The ever-smiling Marseillais is still satisfying locals’ thirst for wine eight decades after his grandfather launched his shop in 1940, making his own vintage by upping the wine quality and swapping the barrels for tables topped with Corsican dishes.

Over many epochs, Marseille has experienced waves of immigration and is considered to be an invaluable gateway city to France. Italian immigration to Marseille began in the late 18th century and increased significantly after the end of World War I, when France's industrial development required a great deal of labor. During the interwar period, 90 percent of the foreign population in Marseille was Italian. Still today, 30 percent of the city’s population is of Italian origin. The current mayor of Marseille, Benoît Payan, is from a family with Italian roots. The similarities between Provençal and Italian dialects are evident. There is no doubt that this cultural history has influenced the culinary tradition of the city. Pizza was first introduced to France in Marseille. All over the city, there are small Italian épiceries (specialty food shops) and restaurants.

Editor’s Note: Vérane Frédiani is a filmmaker, journalist, food lover, and feminist from Marseille. She is the author of several documentary films: The Goddesses of Food, Steak (R) evolution, Mauro Colagreco’s Mirazur, des Étoiles à la Lune, and several books including: Cheffes, Elles Cuisinent. Born and raised in Marseille and currently based in London, Vérane wrote and photographed Marseille Cuisine le Monde to celebrate her hometown’s diverse cuisine—and how it is a gateway into understanding this singular city. Translated by Culinary Backstreet’s own Alexis Steinman, Taste the World in Marseille, is the only English-language book about Marseille food written by les Marseillais. You can follow Vérane on Instagram @veranefrediani