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.

In the heart of Seoul's Central Business District, a short stroll from the Jonggak and Anguk subway stations, Baekbujangjip has quietly built a reputation for serving one of Korea's most unassuming yet comforting dishes: dakhanmari. Chicken soup is a universal comfort food, found in countless forms around the world. In Korea, dakhanmari carries the same meaning of nourishment and a sense of home. Served in a communal pot, dakhanmari is more than just food – it’s a soothing ritual for workers and passersby seeking a brief escape from the city’s relentless pace.

Look at Bangkok through the lens of Instagram, a travel article, or a listings website, and these days the city’s restaurant scene can appear to be all about Michelin stars. The brand swept into the city in 2017, and in a short time, chefs and diners alike became obsessed with collecting its celestial accolades. At press time, 35 Bangkok restaurants can claim at least one Michelin star – in 2024, one restaurant earned three – and the company continues to have a massive impact on the city’s dining scene. Yet look at Bangkok from ground level, and you’ll see a very different picture. The curry shacks, noodle stalls, legacy restaurants, and street vendors that have shaped the city’s dining scene for decades continue to put out some of the best value, casual, unselfconscious, full-flavored, delicious food on earth, all while blissfully unaware of a French tire manufacturer’s rating system. Michelin may have grabbed peoples’ attention, but this has added to, rather than taken away from, Bangkok’s food scene.

Few locals, let alone tourists have reached the isolated mountain village of Ghebi in Georgia’s northern borderlands of Racha. However, many have passed through the doors of its namesake basement restaurant in the bustling left bank district of Marjanishvili in downtown Tbilisi. For more than a decade, the eatery has been steadily serving up comfort food from the region including lobio, the red bean stew with or without the aged Racha salted ham called lori, bean-stuffed pies called lobiani, and skhmeruli, the garlic saturated pan-roasted chicken dish. Located on Aghmashenebeli Avenue, which is more well known for its profusion of Turkish lokantasi diners with ready-made buffet spreads and Arab restaurants that attract many of the city’s foreign residents and visitors from South Asia and the Middle East, Ghebi remains a staunch local haunt frequented by tables of Georgian men toasting their chachas late into the evening over tables loaded with food.

Scott Kohno knows when a new customer is about to come into Yama Sushi Marketplace because he hears the locked front door rattling. As the store’s regulars are already well aware of, the front door isn’t used at Yama. There’s a sign out front that directs customers to enter through the back door, where the parking lot is located. The small store is divided into two rooms. Upon entering from the back door, there’s a small table in the center with cute Japanese stationery items, and pantry items and bottles of sake line the shelves to the right. A refrigerator on the left is full of cold drinks, nigiri sushi, and sushi rolls that have been packed that day. The second room is where one finds the heart of Yama Sushi Marketplace: the fish counter. Hungry customers take numbered tickets and wait their turn to get freshly sliced sashimi.

Sun-drenched beaches, architectural marvels, all-night parties, and tapas, tapas, tapas – that’s the seductive fantasy of Barcelona. But for locals, the reality is, as always, more nuanced. The city is bursting at the seams with tourists drawn in by boring paellas and chain restaurants around La Rambla and humdrum tapas in the Gothic Quarter. But the real Barcelona thrives in its family-run joints, independent market stalls, and tucked-away bodegas where local flavors get innovate twists. Food is more than a meal – it’s a celebration of the Catalan identity and the ever-flowing wheels of change, a story told through humble suquet de peix (fish stew) passed down through generations or calçots sold only in season. For almost a decade, our Barcelona bureau chief Paula Mourenza has been uncovering these stories – writing about the real Barcelona, bite by delicious bite. In this guide, we’ve rounded up her essentials: the places we return to time and again, no matter the hype.

Amid the frenetic rush hour on Roosevelt Avenue in Flushing, we dodge old ladies wielding shopping bags, politely refuse offers for massages and phone repairs, navigating the dark and busy winter streets until we reach Old Captain’s Dumpling, a small beacon of calm and warmth. Inside the matchbox-sized restaurant, a sweeping photo of Taiwan covers the back wall, left by the previous tenants. Beneath it, two ladies in blue gingham smocks serenely knead dough and mix fillings, placing plump egg-sized dumplings to the side.

Seoul, a city that thrives on reinvention, is a masterclass in culinary adaptation. It bombards the senses the moment you arrive – vibrant neon signs, a crescendo of street sounds, and enticing aromas wafting up from countless food stalls. This is a city where tradition and modernity collide, where ancient culinary techniques are reimagined for a new generation, and where global influences are seamlessly integrated into something indistinguishably local. On this day-into-evening culinary walk, we taste our way through the backstreets of Seoul’s bustling Dongdaemun and Jongno neighborhoods. From Chinese dumplings to trendy baked goods, we explore how this capital city has taken inspiration from around the world. We'll encounter the spirit of sharing and tradition, evident in the communal pots of dakhanmari and the generous platters of bossam.

In Porto, francesinhas are everywhere. The monster-sized sandwich of white bread with steak, ham, cured cold cuts, and melted cheese smothered in a beautiful spicy sauce is a ubiquitous dish that says a lot about the city. When he first visited Porto, Anthony Bourdain asked after eating an entire francesinha with fries: "What is the rate of coronary disease in this country?" He didn't know at the time that, more than clogging the arteries, the beloved local dish warms local hearts. It also generates lively discussions. Every Porto inhabitant has their preferences: some like their francesinha with more sauce or even with a fried egg on top; others prefer different types of bread, from brioche to crusty bread roll. It is impossible, therefore, to reach a consensus on which venue serves the best francesinha in the city.

Osaka may be especially well known for its bright and busy Dotonburi district, but that same vibrancy is easily found all over the city, both in the people and urban scenery. It’s the same when it comes to the city’s nightlife, with no shortage of local eateries and street vendors to experience – places that are similarly appealing to photograph as well as step inside – whether it be a sit-down restaurant, a standing bar, or simply a spot to grab a quick snack when on the go. There is something special about wandering Osaka at night and seeing it come to life, including hidden gems that may have been easily overlooked in the daylight. Locations that are made all the more memorable by the people who own and frequent them, as the general stereotype of Osaka natives being friendly and open invariably rings true, meaning eating spots are as convivial as they are colorful. It’s a combination that makes each and every night out in Osaka a fun and varied one.

On warm afternoons, the Piazza Magione lawn fills up with young people, groups of friends with guitars, and people of all ages enjoying the outdoors while sipping excellent craft beer – the first brewed in Palermo. This scene is possible thanks to Ballarak, a craft brewery in the heart of Piazza Magione that has managed to transform itself into a true landmark for beer lovers. Its story began in 2013, during a homebrewers' competition in Messina, where four beer enthusiasts met and formed a bond based on their common passion.

One of the most ubiquitous foreign cuisines in the US and abroad, the scope of Thai food served outside the country is largely limited to dishes from Bangkok and central Thailand. But many diners consider these dishes wholly Thai without being aware of the various influences that created them. In fact, “Thai food” is a misnomer; the country’s food takes the form of regional cuisines from north to south. On our culinary walk of Bangkok, we explore Ko Ratanakosin, the artificial island that’s the birthplace of Thailand.

Some foods are just made for certain weather: hot chocolate or creamy stew feel like a warm blanket on a cold winter day, while cold watermelon and shaved ice are perfect under the summer sun. Just as the sight of a campfire calls to mind well-roasted marshmallows, changing seasons and gentle breeze evoke cravings for familiar comforts. For Koreans, only one dish will do on a cloudy, damp rainy day: crispy, savory jeon. Jeon, a traditional Korean dish, is a type of fritter made by coating ingredients like fish, meat, and vegetables in flour and egg before frying them, or by finely chopping the ingredients, mixing them into a batter, and frying them. Popular varieties include kimchi-jeon and pa-jeon (green onion jeon), but nearly anything – mushrooms, shrimp, beef liver, or stuffed green peppers – can be transformed into jeon.

Giovedì mezza giornata: “Half day on Thursday.” The writing in bold yellow and red on the closed shutter of the shop is not only a way to inform customers of the working schedule. It’s something more: an ode to the good old days when all grocery stores in Naples observed the half-day shift to enjoy a midweek break, a statement of respect towards unwritten “holy rules” and choosing personal time and human relationships over business. Sticking to old ways is what makes Salumeria Malinconico a special place. Yet nothing is dusty here; nor gloomy, despite the literal meaning of the family surname displayed on the sign, which translates to “melancholic.”

Editor’s Note: Award-winning author and journalist La Carmina writes about travel, culture and food (especially in Japan) for Travel + Leisure, The New York Times, National Geographic, CNN, Time Magazine, Eater, Fodor's, Observer, Business Insider, Sunday Times, AFAR, and others. She runs the leading Japan alt culture/travel/fashion La Carmina Blog and won "Best Blog of the Year" from Auxiliary Magazine. We asked her to share her perfect day of eating in Osaka and the spots she’d hit for bites and drinks from 10 a.m. to 10 p.m.