It’s a weekend afternoon in the packed Tashkent Supermarket in Forest Hills, Queens and amid the din three teenage cashiers speak wistfully about hometowns in Uzbekistan. They also tell us of the need to speak Uzbek, Tajik, Russian, and English to help customers navigate the cavern of delights on offer. In case the polyglot teens working here don’t make clear the diversity on offer, television screens hanging above the aisles do, flashing photos of specials including samsa, Central Asian savory pastries, and branzino filets – a favorite of several Mediterranean cuisines. An express lane exists “only for shawarma and plov.”

From the outside, La Tonina – a humble taquería in the San Rafael neighborhood that’s been in business for some 80 years – gives nothing away. It’s not until you step inside and the scent of fresh flour tortillas hits that you suddenly find yourself transported out of Mexico City and up to northern Mexico. La Tonina was founded in 1946 by Héctor Garza, a professional wrestler known by his lucha libre ring name Tonina Jackson (more on that later). Héctor was from the northeastern city of Monterrey – where wheat and flour tortillas are essential to the local cuisine – which is the reason why in his restaurant, corn never stood a chance.

Looking at the menu at Small Mart Cafe, it can be hard to make sense of the variety. First there are the bagels, led by the “New Yorker,” filled with smoked salmon, tomato, onion, capers, and cream cheese. Soon, you’ll come to the curry and chaat bowls, leaning into the flavors of India and Pakistan and including sides like samosas and crispy pakoras. Near the bottom of the menu, you’ll find po’boys – this is New Orleans, after all. The local sandwiches traditionally are filled with proteins like fried shrimp, oysters, or roast beef. At Small Mart, however, tradition isn’t much of a constraint.

Lisbon’s steep hills and cobbled streets are home to a rich pantheon of delicious dishes – visitors would be remiss to fill up exclusively on the famous pastel de nata before exploring all the flavors the Portuguese capital has to offer. Anchored by excellent seafood, comforting stews, and cod prepared every which way, traditional cuisine is still possible to track down all around town. But what makes Lisbon unique is that its food doesn’t stop there – culinary influences have filtered in from different corners of Portugal and the former colonies, making this a perfect place to try acarajé from Bahia, Angolan peito alto, or modern takes on regional dishes from the many young chefs stepping up in the city’s food scene.

We’re surrounded by nothing but fresh air and trees as we head into the mountains overlooking Palermo. After a short and scenic drive up the mountain road, around the bend, we spot our destination – Trattoria U Zu Caliddu, a local institution with over eighty years of history. Located in the mountain hamlet of Piano dell'Occhio in Torretta, on the outskirts of Palermo, the restaurant was named after its founder Calogero Bonello, who everyone knew by the nickname Caliddu Aciedda (“Charlie Bird”).

It’s fall and the wonderful farmers markets of Athens are filled with the season’s harvest; fresh walnuts and chestnuts, persimmons, pomegranates, quince and, of course, the two queens of the season: pumpkin and butternut squash. I love using butternut squash or pumpkin in a variety of recipes and these traditional fritters are one of my favorite ways to enjoy this nutritious vegetable. This is a recipe that I include in my cookbook Salt of the Earth (Quadrille, 2023), and it is inspired by the traditional version from the region of Messenia in southern Peloponnese. In my take on this dish, I add some chopped green olives as I like variety in textures and flavors and the olives, along with crumbled feta, add a beautiful layer of umami to the fritters.

Día de Muertos brings many delights to the senses: the bright orange hues of marigolds filling the streets; the unmistakable scent of freshly baked pan de muerto as we step into a bakery. But the Day of the Dead also brings the comforting softness and many iterations of tamales – a treat that many of us quickly associate with Día de la Candelaria in February, but which are also a tradition of this beloved fall holiday.

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.

Shibuya is one of the busiest areas of the sprawling megacity of Tokyo, home to department stores, the famous Scramble – the world’s busiest walkway, and a whole host of eateries for the masses of tourists that come to play. In amongst all of this lies Shirubee, a hidden izakaya. This casual style of Japanese restaurant, featuring a smorgasbord of different comfort foods, is one of our favorite ways to dine, making it possible to taste and share many small dishes, much like Spanish tapas. There is no signage from the street and no instructions on how to find the place. Even Google Maps is incorrect about where the entrance is. Unless you have been taken there before, it is almost impossible to locate.

Ali Kılıç works in a hypnotizing rhythm, mixing hummus or garnishing plates with pickles and olive oil to serve to customers. The phone rings occasionally, and Ali answers while working at the counter next to the window, looking at one of the semi-destroyed alleys of Antakya's Long Bazaar. “Alo, come again?” Ali answered one of the calls. “Two hummus. I'm sending it right away, brother,” he told the person on the other end.

Venture inside the Ballarò market – a lively and historic city market in Palermo’s Albergheria district – and you will find yourself catapulted into a sensory experience: the colors of the fruits and vegetables, the smoke from the grills clouding the alleys, the smell of spices mingling with the smell of survival. And then the voices: they all shout here. Or rather: they “abbannìano.” “Abbanniari” is the ancient custom of Palermo street vendors to sing out their goods to attract customers’ attention. Derived from the times and from a world in which marketing studies and advertising techniques had not yet arrived, in which even noticeable signage was a quantum leap that not all merchants could afford, the abbanniata was the democratic and free tool available to street vendors, because all they needed was their own voice.

Athens’s rich culinary world might feel intimidating to tackle – especially for those who find themselves with just a day or two in Greece’s capital city as a jumping-off point for their island holiday. We’re firm believers in Athens as a destination in its own right, one that merits a long stay, not a stopover – especially when we consider the vast variety of food it has to offer. Whether you have six days or six hours to spend in the city, we’ve narrowed down what we believe to be some of the best restaurants in Athens, a beyond the ordinary collection of our favorite tavernas, drink spots, and dessert joints across town. Our local team has been writing about Athens food for almost a decade, and considers the following some of the city’s essential bites.

Istanbul's Bayrampaşa district is located just to the east of the city's historic 5th-century walls, and is synonymous with industry, unchecked urban growth, and immigrants from the Balkans. One neighborhood has a replica of Bosnia's Mostar Bridge, while dozens of restaurants can be found serving the specialties of Sancak, a Bosnian Muslim region that is nowadays split between Serbia and Montenegro, and from which a huge number of Bayrampaşa residents trace their roots. We've written about these places in the past, and were delighted to recently stumble upon a Kosovar Albanian restaurant of sorts, the first one we've encountered in the city.

Bánh Mì Mỹ Dung is a tiny sandwich shop disguised as a humble fruit stand – bananas in varying stages of ripeness hang from the awnings; stacks of boxes filled with green onions, mangoes, rambutans, Thai peppers, and leafy greens are lined up in front of the entrance. The store fits no more than ten people at a time, but it may be one of the most popular locations to visit in Los Angeles’s Chinatown, and a favorite stop for guests on our Culinary Backstreets tour: Exploring America’s Culinary Frontier. Chinh Le is the manager and face of the business, and in the far back corner is a small area where Chinh’s sister prepares the shop’s well-known sandwiches. This humble locale is the counterbalance to a neighborhood whose identity is currently in flux. Found steps away from a plaza that hosts chic restaurants attracting influencers and customers from across the nation, Mỹ Dung (a name left over from the previous owners, which translates to a female name meaning “Perfect Beauty”) attracts local Chinese community members as both a place to gather and to purchase fresh produce, sweetened condensed milk iced coffees, and affordable Vietnamese bánh mì sandwiches.