At the dusty eastern edge of the Taklamakan Desert, the ancient city of Dunhuang marked the intersection of the northern and southern parts of the Silk Road. Meaning “Bright Beacon,” Dunhuang was a historical refuge for weary travelers peddling their wares along the trade route, and this confluence of cultures influenced the ancient city’s cuisine. Merchants brought spices and cooking techniques from the West that combined with Chinese imperial culinary traditions and local ingredients.

Legend has it that in 12th-century Priorat, in the region of Tarragona in southern Catalonia, there was a shepherd who dreamt every night of a ladder leaning against a pine tree. The ladder ascended from the valley all the way to heaven and angels climbed up and down, tending to their heavenly and earthly duties. Some Cistercian monks, upon hearing this story, took the vision as a divine message to build the monastery Scala Dei (“Ladder of God”) in that very spot. Those clever monks, noting the angels’ comings and goings, decided to become their wine suppliers and began cultivating grapes and making wine there.

Southeastern Turkey’s culinary mecca of Gaziantep is best known for its baklava and kebabs. But lately we’ve been thinking that it's soup that may actually be the city’s real crowning glory. Not just any old soup, mind you, but beyran çorbası, a stupendously delicious lamb-based broth that is usually slurped down for breakfast in Gaziantep.

Dimitris Kotsaris was more proselytizer than baker. Rather than a flour-dusted apron, this mild-mannered gentleman would wear elegant suits to meet with journalists, bearing two or three kilos of his famous whole-wheat bread as a gift. He was an ardent believer in the medicinal qualities of bread and preached widely that good bread promoted good health, once even taking his case to Harvard, where he delivered a talk about the role of well-made loaves in healthy diets. In 1981 Kotsaris opened Pnyka, the pulpit from which he spread his yeasty gospel, and gave the bakery the Greek name for the hill downtown where, in the golden years of Ancient Greece, Athenians gathered for the general assemblies that played such a formative part in the creation of democracy. It is quite fitting then that the first Pnyka shop opened in Syntagma (“Constitution”) Square. The bakery has since added two more shops in the city, in Exarchia and in Pagrati, the headquarters of the operation, and its following is such that last year a third was established in Vienna. Kotsaris passed away last year but his vision lives on through his son George, who has taken over the business.

Shanghai’s hottest summer on record is officially behind us, which can mean only one thing: Mid-Autumn Festival is just around the corner. Zhōngqiū jié (中秋节) is that memorable time of year when Chinese people gift (and regift) bite-sized treats known as mooncakes (月饼, yuèbǐng).

It is puzzling that Istanbul, a city of some 15 million people with an increasingly lavish lifestyle, a world-famous cuisine and a booming tourism industry, has so little sparkle when it comes to fine dining. We’re surprised that the Prime Minister himself has not jumped into the culinary scrum by demanding no fewer than three Michelin stars from every restaurant. The city still has yet to answer with one.

Update: This spot is sadly no longer open. The bodega side of La Pubilla del Taulat’s split-personality operation is no ordinary wine shop. While one wall is lined with hundreds of bottles from all over Spain, it’s the wall opposite that commands attention, with its row of massive casks. After nearly disappearing over the last few decades, bulk wine is back. And though customers these days are more likely to tote their wine home in big plastic jugs, the garrafa, the straw-covered flask of old, is making a comeback too. Besides the cheap tariff, there’s another upside to buying wines in bulk: custom wine blending, straight from the cask.

Dining at Buddhist temples in China can be a disappointing experience. Too often, these halls of worship have been turned into tourist traps that solicit enough donations to keep the monks in expensive trainers, meat-based meals and high-end smart phones. Independent Buddhist restaurants, like Wu Guan Tang (五观堂), are a breath of fresh air, maintaining the tenets of the religion while offering quality vegetarian food in a peaceful environment.

Editor's Note: Sadly, this spot is now closed. Just inside the entrance of Fat Choi hangs a meter-tall photo of a many-armed statue of Guanyin, the Buddhist Goddess of Mercy. Iana, the daughter of Fat Choi’s founder, Silvana Assumpção, took the photo in a hotel in Macao, the infamous Chinese port and sin city. She then photoshopped out the hotel scene in the background and added bright fluffy white clouds. Macao hotels show up in posters elsewhere in the restaurant, along with a backlit aquarium with choose-your-own tilapia.

In 1922, reporting for the Toronto Daily Star from the borderlands of the Thrace region, Ernest Hemingway wrote of a “Silent, Ghastly Procession” of Christian refugees fleeing the advance of “the Turk.” The literature and art of the Christian Anatolians exiled in this period – from the films of Angelopoulos to the genre of Rembetiko music itself – is considerable and no doubt strengthens the identity of this diaspora today.

The first thing we noticed about Lukumas, a well-loved Greek doughnut shop in Gràcia, was its creative graphic identity. That should come as no surprise given that Petros Paschalidis, who opened the place in 2010, is in fact a graphic designer. He designed its stylish interior as well as Lukumas’s logo, a rendering of a paunchy, mustachioed vendor peddling lukumas, traditional Greek round sugar doughnuts.

Walking into La Corte is like stepping into the 1950s. At this no-frills fonda, located in downtown Mexico City by the Supreme Court (hence the name), customers perch on red vinyl seats at laminate tabletops or along the counter and read their newspapers, the tableware and lighting are utilitarian, and the décor is minimal: just a few televisions with fútbol on and the sound off. The color flat screens might be the only indication that this is, indeed, the 21st century.

[Editor's note: We're sorry to report that La Biblioteca Gourmande has closed.] In the heart of El Raval, one of Barcelona’s most multicultural neighborhoods, lies a portal to the Catalan countryside. At La Biblioteca, which opened in 2012, the origins of the ingredients sing out clearly from each dish and plunge you into a pure culinary experience inspired by the land: the traditional farmhouses called masias, the rustic recipes of the Pyrenees, the perfume of the valleys and gardens, the modern farmers near the city and the influence on plants and herbs of the Mediterranean Sea.

Dear Culinary Backstreets, My family is traveling to Athens in October. Some of our friends have told us that Athens is not very child-friendly and that the only places that cater to children are international fast food chains. Is this true? Are there any other options for those of us who do not want to eat American-style fast food?

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