Like many other Egyptians, when Cairo Restaurant owner Magdy Hegad talks about khushari, his eyes glisten with an emotion akin to love – but when he talks about seafood, the glisten is elevated to something closer to religious fervor. “We do it differently,” he explains. “Just try it, and you will see.” We first ventured to Cairo Restaurant with an Egyptian friend eager to show us the delights of a cuisine we had learned little about, let alone tried. As we entered the restaurant, it became clear that this was to be a very different meal than what we had grown used to in dining around the city.

On June 20, Georgian Prime Minister Mamuka Bakhtadze signed a decree abolishing the Writer’s House of Georgia, Tbilisi’s leading institution of literary culture and the home of Cafe Littera, the restaurant that gave birth to the culinary revolution Georgia is currently going through. As soon as the ink was dry, the Writer’s House accounts were frozen and its directors were suddenly dismissed with only half a month’s salary. The fate of Cafe Littera is unknown. The story of the Writer’s House goes back to 1905, when philanthropist and father of Georgian brandy, David Sarajishvili, completed construction of an Art Nouveau masterpiece of a house to commemorate his 25th wedding anniversary to Ekaterine Porakishvili.

Stretched to translucence by a series of acrobatic, table-slapping wrist flips, then stretched just a bit further until it seemingly must tear under its own weight, the palata dough passes from the hands of Myo Lin Thway. In a moment, other hands take over. Perhaps they fill it with minced spiced chicken, for keema palata, or perhaps they fold it instead into an empty square, soon to be the conveyance for masala-red curry. After a brief interlude at the griddle, the flaky flatbread is surrendered to still other, hungrier hands. Myo, in the meantime, has swirled a little oil on his tabletop and patted down another wad of dough, pressing it wider and flatter until it, too, can take to the air.

At Pollería Fontana, a cozy restaurant inspired by the owner’s history in a poultry shop, it’s neither chicken nor eggs, but rather family that comes first. The name, which means Fontana’s Poultry Shop, is a tribute to the owner’s family business, a store selling chickens and eggs that was established by chef Nil Ros’ grandparents in 1935. But for the last six years, Pollería Fontana has been a contemporary, lovely little restaurant with an idiosyncratic personality in Gràcia, a fittingly idiosyncratic neighborhood that hosts Barcelona’s highest concentration of small independent restaurants. With old kitchenware and trinkets strewn about, numerous family photos in black and white hanging and a casual but warm atmosphere perfect for small groups and families, the space is like a contemporary tribute to the Catalan culinary neighborhood tradition.

As women in pink polo shirts conveyed steaming tureens, pungent earthenware crocks and freshly-baked sweet loaves, it was clear that the Azores’ celebration of the heavenly spirit had a strong component of earthy sustenance. We were at a função (function), a communal meal built around bread, wine and traditional meat dishes that forms a central part of the archipelago’s unique Holy Ghost festivities, which take place in villages around the islands over the 50 days after Easter. “This is one of the island’s most deeply respected traditions and it’s taken very seriously,” explains José Álamo Meneses, mayor of Angra do Heroísmo, a jaw-droppingly beautiful UNESCO World Heritage city on the island of Terceira. “Only around 10 percent here go to mass regularly, but they fill the churches on the day of the Holy Spirit,” he adds, before joining 250 fellow citizens for lunch in a hall hung with patchwork blankets in the hillside neighborhood of Bicas de Cabo Verde.

We spotted this colorful display of conservas (canned fish) at one of Lisbon’s finest traditional markets. The tinned fish industry is an old one in Portugal, dating back to the 19th century. The quality of the fish and the olive oil, plus the retro packaging makes it a delicious souvenir or gift.

Back at Culinary Backstreets Istanbul headquarters in 2012, every once in a while a conversation would arise about how çiğ köfte had emerged as a sort of fast-food franchising opportunity, with young entrepreneurial types starting up these meat-free meatball joints in all sorts of Istanbul neighborhoods. We all agreed it was much cooler than opening a KFC or an Orange Julius in the food court (though the former has been making its mark across the shopping malls of Turkey for a while now), and we were happy to see the ambitious souls of Turkey setting their sights on the bulgur meatball stand instead. The bespoke lokma shops and waffle bars may come and go, but çiğ köfte has its forever fans of all generations – and a new clientele now that it has caught on to its vegan marketing potential.

If you hadn’t read the flyer closely before heading to Shanghai’s first ever MeatFest last month, you might have been a bit disappointed upon arrival. The sounds and smells of sizzling meat might have seemed like a carnivore’s dream come true, but the name was tongue in cheek; the event was thrown by Vegans of Shanghai for “eco-conscious meat lovers” and served only domestically sourced plant-based “meat” products. It’s part of a bigger push towards eating a plant-based diet in China, where vegetarians make up less than 5% of the population. But even at such a low rate, that still comes out to approximately 50 million people (a population larger than that of Spain). Historically vegetarianism is rooted in Buddhist or Taoist beliefs but, like recently in the West, the meat-free lifestyle in China has become less about religion and more focused on health and being environmentally friendly – and millennials are leading the pack.

It wasn’t very long ago that finding a vegan restaurant in Mexico City was like finding a friend on the city’s overcrowded metro during rush hour (read: impossible). In fact, until this decade there were no exclusively vegan eateries in Mexico’s bustling capital. This is not to suggest that vegan options weren’t available, but exploring the city as a vegan could be a tricky business, and veganism was a little-understood concept. So unusual an idea it was, that journalist-cum-chef Mariana Blanco was often called a loser or perdedora by friends who found her animal-free and plant-rich lifestyle to be at odds with what they knew. So when she opened the first vegan restaurant in the city, and indeed the first in Latin America, she called it Los Loosers.

In the center of Exarchia, a hub of activism often referred to as the “anarchist” neighborhood of Athens, a small minimalist eatery with just a few tables outside opened last April and was an instant success by breaking all the rules. At first glance it looks like a regular souvlaki shop, with sauces and condiments lined up at the front, pita breads being grilled and potatoes being fried. It even smells familiar, but if you look closely, you will notice that there is no meat in sight or, to be exact, no animal products. Welcome to Cookoomela Grill, Greece’s first vegan souvlaki spot.

Visiting establishments with a lot of history always warms the cockles of our heart – even more so when that establishment is the oldest surviving cantina in the city. El Dux de Venecia didn’t start out as a cantina, but it became a drinking establishment in Azcapotzalco – a farming community that became part of Mexico City in the 1940s – during the Mexican revolution and has remained an important part of the neighborhood ever since. The story goes that an Italian traveler decided to open a grocery store at the end of the 19th century. He named it El Dux de Venecia (The Doges of Venice) because he was originally from that Italian city. He offered all kinds of imported products from Europe as well as local ones, including deli meats, bread and alcohol. Because some customers consumed these items in the shop, the owner installed chairs and tables for their comfort.

If a gastronomia or delicatessen prepares good food, it can survive for decades. But if a gastronomia also promotes a social cause, there is a risk that clients will visit once to silence their consciences, and not return. At Sfizzicariello, a “social gastronomia,” the food is at once excellent, and the cause worthy. A group of 10 people with mental health disorders run the deli, an example of commitment but, above all, quality dishes that will keep people coming back. Here is one of the best eggplant Parmigiane in Naples, an exceptional endive pizza, and a number of unparalleled meatballs. Come for a quick snack, a long lunch break sitting at one of the few tables scattered about or to order take away. The environment is modern in design, with eight seats inside and four out.

We bit into the khinkali, its handmade dough indelicate and sticky, as we like it. Steam poured out the newly made hole, and we blew lightly before slurping up the rich stock and gobbling the dumpling down, even the puckered knob. The ground pork and beef was packed with fresh cilantro, the juices absorbed into the jacket. It was a perfect khinkali. A home wrecker. This seducer of a dumpling is molded by the knowing hands of Manana Osapashvili, born in Gudamakhari, a mountain village in Pasanauri, the heartland of khinkali. A professional cook for 29 years, Manana has been making khinkali since she was 10 years old. Today, she is running the kitchen at Sioni 13, located at the Tbilisi Theological Seminary in Old Town. It is a part of the city known for its tourists and hookah bars, and the mediocre "traditionnel" Georgian restaurants that cater to them.

Sweet, fluffy and incredibly habit forming, yakiimo (roasted sweet potatoes) are an autumnal treat loved throughout Japan. But in a small corner of Setagaya, Tokyo’s largest ward, a dedicated shop bakes them year-round. Kept busy by a steady stream of visitors, all clutching tell-tale paper bags, Fuji has a national take on a traditional snack. The slow-baked yakiimo are often sold from slow-moving mini trucks equipped with onboard wood-burning ovens. As the trucks roll by, they fill the air with both a comforting smell and familiar song. Roasted on a bed of stones, the potatoes are commonly known as ishiyaki imo and once saved Japan from famine when rice crops failed in the 18th century. Served without butter or salt, it may seem a little simple to the untrained eye, but cooked right, the flavor and texture render any additions entirely obsolete.

Agapi Stavrakaki was born in Anogia, a mountain village on the island of Crete famous for producing fine produce and excellent musicians. Decades before she would open Raeti, a delightful restaurant in Athens’ Ambelokoipi neighborhood which pays homage to her island home, a 10-year-old Agapi worked by her grandmother’s side at her family’s vineyard in Anogia, cooking for the workers harvesting grapes and making wine. She and the other women would prepare huge quantities of food in enormous kettles. Despite being cooked in bulk, the food was always traditional, fresh and tasty – Cretans have high standards! Before continuing with Agapi’s story, a few things about Cretan cooking: One of the most legendary of Greece’s regional cuisines, it makes use of all the simple ingredients that are offered by nature with an open hand.