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.

Bangkok’s bustiling energy is largely attributed to the endless latticework of diverse food found along street corners or tucked away in high rises – a unique culinary world reflects the city’s rich multicultural heritage. One street stall in particular, Amin Mutton & Chicken Biryani, embodies the soul of Bangkok’s Thai-Muslim community and carries nearly a century-old legacy. For generations, an iconic eatery simply named Muslim Restaurant served as a culinary institution, gathering local families, neighboring students, and the Muslim community around tables filled with humble dishes. Its closure in 2020 left a void in the community, but not long after, a few former staff members took it upon themselves to keep the legacy alive.

If you turn the corner onto Calle Pelota and see a swarm of people in the street, wine glasses in hand, dive right in. You have officially left the tourist pintxo routes in Bilbao's historic Casco Viejo neighborhood and entered the realm of the locals, who storm the streets daily in search of a good spot for a drink and a bite before lunch and before dinner. Many believe that the fame of Basque pintxos – small bites offered on the counter of almost every bar – is the result of a culinary phenomenon, but it really comes from a social one. When you step through the door of Taberna Basaras, you have found one of the best places to take part in it. This tiny tavern – barely a counter, half a dozen stools, and many, many bottles of wine – offers a concentrated essence of what the Basque people expect when they go out to potear – the habit of meeting with pals to go from bar to bar: Friendly atmosphere, rich wines, and simple but tasty snacks.

When chef Alexis Peñalver was looking for a location to open La Pubilla, he found this gem adjacent to the Mercat de la Llibertat in Gràcia and decided to keep the name of the original establishment. Pubilla is a bygone word in Catalan for the eldest daughter destined to receive the family inheritance in the event that there were no male heirs. Nowadays a pubilla (the prettiest girl in town) is named reina de la fiesta at many festivals in Catalonia.

Oaxaca’s deep culinary heritage is, like in many places, a result of its geography: a big valley formed by small ones, all surrounded by mountains, rich soil and warm weather. In fact, this valley reminds us of a clay pot, where many ingredients are mixing, aging and melting together to become something new over the heat of the fire. Oaxaca’s best restaurants are firmly rooted in this unique geography and layered history of the state. Here, food is more than just sustenance; it's a living link to the past and an expression of community – and it’s a source of immense pride. From the foundational significance of corn, prepared in countless forms, to the complexity of its celebrated moles, Oaxaca is all about depth. To highlight this profound connection between land, culture, and cuisine, our local team has rounded up their essential spots in the city, for tlayudas, memelas, mole, and beyond.

In Bilbao, some might tell you that the art is inside the Guggenheim Museum, but most would argue it’s found at the counter of a good tavern. Here, the pintxo de tortilla (AKA Spanish omelette) is enough to stir emotions just like a Chillida sculpture – and yes, it can make or break a bar’s reputation. That’s why, even though it might seem simple, serving tortillas in this city is a serious matter. Manu Urra and Andoni Ibarguren knew that when they opened Txintxirri in 2019, but they didn’t hesitate to make this pintxo their calling card. They pulled it off – even through a pandemic. “And it has evolved so much. When I look at the ones I made back then, I don’t like them at all. There’s always room to improve, and I’m still working on it,” Ibarguren admits.

Guadalajara is at once a symbol of both old and new Mexico. On one hand, it is a young and lively university city that has grown into a sprawling metropolis, a booming tech and innovation hub, and home to a vibrant LGBT scene. It’s particularly famous for other cultural events such as the Guadalajara International Film Festival and the annual Book Fair, the latter the largest in the Americas.

Walk down a narrow, unmarked lane in Ko Ratanakosin, the artificial island that’s the birthplace of Bangkok, and keep your eyes peeled for a wooden, gingerbread-style mansion not far from the Democracy Monument – there is no sign here. If the gate is open, Ban Wannakovit is in operation. Walk past a traditional Thai spirit house to the front porch, which is lined with a few tables, or continue inside the house, where dining tables mingle with family portraits, antique furniture, and other heirlooms. If there’s any homier dining experience in Bangkok, we haven’t found it.

From the bustling Melikishvili Avenue, we ascended a few steps to arrive at Praktika. The venue features three rooms adorned with white walls, well-worn parquet flooring, and standard-issue tables and chairs. Its resemblance to study rooms is no coincidence; Praktika is situated just a stone's throw away from Tbilisi State University, the city’s largest university, most of the customers are students, and the space is a former language school. The café’s humble appearance is not suprising. Praktika, which opened its doors in August 2022, owes its inception to a crowdfunding initiative led by the socialist movement Khma (meaning "voice" in Georgian). Its primary aim was to establish, as they put it, a “people’s café that will provide affordable and tasty food to students, workers, working students and everyone else in need.”

“This is the best time for bivalves,” says Portuguese chef João Rodrigues. It’s late February, and we’re speaking in the dining room of Canalha, his award-winning Lisbon restaurant. “Usually you think of bivalves as something you eat in summer, but you shouldn’t. During the months with no letter R, you shouldn't eat them.” We had asked the chef to share a seasonal dish, but since proper spring produce hadn’t yet quite arrived, he suggested razor clam rice served with deep-fried hake – a fish related to cod, although with a more delicate flavor – creating a dish that takes advantage of those plump, non-summer bivalves.

Editor’s Note: We asked Culinary Backstreets tour leader Francisco de Santiago, better known as Paco, to share some of his favorite spots to eat and drink in Guadalajara. Paco is a Mexico City native who has a deep passion for his country's cuisine. He is also a sort of renaissance man – a former champion chess player, bullfighter, and more recently, a professional gastro-guide – and Culinary Backstreets’ local expert on all things Mexico. Paco paid a recent visit to Guadalajara, a city close to his heart and the site of our newest food tour. As Guadalajara is a huge city (the second largest in the country, after Mexico City), there are many different ways to experience it. It’s famous among Mexicans because of the unique food you can enjoy only here, such as the torta ahogada, birria or jericalla.

Very few things in Bilbao are as they used to be. Some old bars, some ancient traditions, a chunk of a medieval wall, a handful of simple dishes. What has held strongest over generations is the intense connection Bilbainos feel to their Basque identity and passion for eating and sharing food with others. The image of local cuadrillas – groups of friends of all ages – eating pintxos and laughing over a glass of txakolí or cider is a daily constant. Bilbao is a phoenix of urban renewal, rising from a period of industrial decline to become a center of modern Basque cuisine that incorporates global influences with contemporary culinary quirks.

Back when it was called Noisette, we'd passed by Paris Oven in the (not quite) year that it had been open. But whenever we’d walked down those sometimes clamorous blocks of 30th Avenue in Astoria, Queens – not far from a bagel shop, a pizzeria, a comfort-food hotspot and a New Orleans-themed bar-restaurant, whose windows open wide toward the street during happy hour – we’d given little notice to the quiet bakery-café with the French name. That changed during one recent stroll, not long before dark, when a hand-drawn signboard beside the door wished us “Ramadan Kareem” and beckoned us to come inside.