To call someone a cachaceiro in Brazil is to deal a pretty low Portuguese blow. The word translates roughly to “drunkard” and evokes the image of an unkempt alcoholic clutching a plastic bottle of the powerful local liquor known as cachaça. It’s no coincidence that the name of the drink made with cachaça, the caipirinha, comes from the word caipira, roughly meaning “redneck” or “country.” That the national spirit is invoked in insults is emblematic of the poor image the drink has long had, but which has recently been changing. Like the newly assertive Brazil, the sugarcane-based alcohol is finding its way into chic circles where it was once seen as a bit cheap and rustic. In the past, a posh dinner host in Brazil would offer her guests a uisque (whiskey) or imported wine. But these days, it seems cariocas are finally embracing the truth: the caipirinha is a profoundly refreshing godsend on a steamy Rio summer night. A thriving cachaceiro scene is now budding both in Brazil and among a growing fan base abroad.

You could walk past the shoddy exterior of Henan Lamian every day without giving it a second glance, but the noodle shop hidden within is worth a double take. In our six years of eating there whenever the craving strikes (and it inevitably does, several times a week), this hole in the wall has become our local mainstay, providing cheap and consistently good noodles around the clock.

Editor's note: We regret to report that Ideal has closed. There is just something special about Ideal, one of Athens’ oldest restaurants, which recently celebrated 90 years in business. Perhaps it’s the marble and glass Art Nouveau entrance with gold lettering, which makes the venue look right at home next to some of the city’s architectural gems, such as the 1930s-era, New York-influenced Rex Theater, which now houses the National Theater of Greece. Or maybe it’s the restaurant’s proximity to the imposing yet decrepit Majestic Hotel just across the street and long-suffering Omonia Square nearby. Taken together, all point towards an almost forgotten bourgeois Athenian identity.

Editor’s note: As of this week, Rio de Janeiro joins Culinary Backstreets as our sixth city. We’re thrilled to have expanded to four continents, and are looking forward to sharing with readers our explorations of this exciting city's dynamic food scene. Like many things in Brazil's beachside, party-hard Carnival city of Rio de Janeiro, gastronomy has a hedonistic edge to it.

Restaurante Nicos got its start back in 1957, when María Elena Lugo Zermeño opened a small cafeteria in the middle-class Colonia Clavería neighborhood offering family recipes passed down through the generations. Over the years, the cafeteria evolved into a full-scale – and well-known – restaurant, one that pulls in customers from across the city with its excellent dishes and warm, inviting atmosphere.

Editor’s note: This post wraps up our special series this week featuring our top street food picks in all of the Culinary Backstreets cities. As rapidly as Istanbul marches toward its modern destiny, street food in this city is still served the old-fashioned way, by boisterous ustas with a good pitch and, sometimes, a really good product.

Editor’s note: This is the fourth installment in our street food series this week, featuring dispatches on the best streetside eating in all the cities Culinary Backstreets covers. Before we get down to the business of discussing the best of Athens’ street food, a disclaimer: Athens is at a disadvantage when it comes to streetside eats. For one thing, a lot of venues – souvlaki joints, pizza parlors and even offal soup places – are open all night or even 24/7; they are just not serving on the street, though.

Editor’s note: This feature from Barcelona is the third installment in our series this week devoted to the top street foods in each of the Culinary Backstreets cities. In Barcelona, a great deal of eating is done in the streets. Sidewalk cafés line the plazas and paseos, often to the point that it’s difficult to tell which tables belong to which establishment.

Editor’s note: This feature from Mexico City is the second installment in our street food series this week, highlighting the best streetside eats in each of the cities Culinary Backstreets covers. 1: Pambazos The pambazo is a Mexican sandwich that’s similar in style to the more familiar torta, but not nearly as ubiquitous. Most commonly found at weekly street markets like Sullivan, pambazos are made with hard, white bread rolls soaked in guajillo chili sauce that softens the crust and gives it a warm, orange-red hue. Once dried, the bread is sliced in half and then filled with a generous portion of diced potatoes, chorizo, lettuce, sour cream and sprinkled queso fresco. The bread is quite fragile, so eating the concoction can be somewhat challenging. From the first bite the pambazo starts to disintegrate, and by the end we’re usually scooping up the heavy mess with our fingers. It’s all worth it, though, as the light hint of chili in the bread and the hearty ingredients inside give the dish the same satisfying and belly-filling pleasure that comes with a good bowl of thick stew.

Editor’s note: This week we are celebrating street food, in all its fascinating, delicious and sometimes offbeat forms. Each day, we’ll take a look at the top street foods in a different city that Culinary Backstreets covers. This feature from Shanghai is the first installment. 1: Shengjianbao A Shanghai specialty, shēngjiān mántou (生煎馒头) – or shēngjiān bāo (生煎包), as they’re known everywhere else in China – are juicy pork buns wrapped in bread dough, then arranged in a flat, oil-slicked wok in which the bottoms are deep-fried till they are crispy. Although shengjian mantou can be found on most street corners in the morning, we’re especially fond of the delicious misshapen buns at Da Hu Chun. A Chinese Time-Honored Brand (老字号, lǎozìhào), Da Hu Chun has been splattering grease since the 1930s and, nearly 80 years later, has six restaurants across Shanghai. The venue’s chefs use the rare “clear water” technique, frying the pinched side of the dough face-up to create little Frankenstein buns that might not be as photogenic as the more common “troubled water” variety, but that have a thinner skin that gets extra crisp – and we’ll sacrifice good looks any day if it means better flavor.

The sap of the spiky maguey plant has long been used by the indigenous peoples of Mexico to prepare pulque, a milk-colored, viscous drink that has roughly the same alcohol content as beer. When they arrived in Mexico, the Spanish were introduced to pulque. Used to imbibing harder stuff, however, the conquistadors experimented with distilling a mash made out of the maguey plant, in the process inventing the beguiling spirit known as mezcal. Previously a liquor considered the province of the poor and working classes, mezcal has in recent years become one of the trendiest and most popular alcoholic drinks in Mexico, with more than 150 different brands now on the market. (Tequila, made from blue agave – a kind of maguey – and produced within a specific region of Mexico, is the best-known member of the mezcal family.) The rise in mezcal’s popularity has led to a proliferation of mezcalerías, wine bar-like spots that specialize in pouring the drink. In Mexico City in particular, mezcalerías have popped up in nearly every neighborhood, and their numbers keep growing.

Located on busy Carrer de l’Escorial on the edge of Gràcia, Vermuteria Loú is a tiny, cozy venue that is exactly what we look for in a neighborhood place. The little terrace out front, with just four tables and a bar that opens to the street, encourages patrons to sit and take refreshment while observing the local street life. Inside, the scene might consist of individual drinkers slowly savoring a glass of cava at the bar while a group of men sit at the tables in the back, talking and eating one dish brought out from the kitchen after another.

In the world of chicken breast pudding (a traditional Turkish dessert made with thickened milk and thin strands of poached poultry), elasticity is the quality that the confection is judged upon above all else. Tucking into a real tavuk göğsü requires full concentration, a good bit of dexterity and the proper tool. A special spoon with a flat chopping nose – much like a spade – was designed just to deal with the situation and, as far as we know, this utensil is found exclusively in Turkish pudding shops. So when we got a tip about a muhallebici where “the tavuk göğsü stretches off the spoon much farther than you could fathom,” we knew we’d be dealing with the genuine article.

Drinking báijiǔ (白酒) always brings us back to our first illicit taste of hard alcohol – a shock to the system, going down fiery and leaving a shudder-inducing aftertaste on the tongue. And just as many first-time drinkers are left wondering where exactly the attraction lies, the same thing is true for baijiu – at least, until the aftereffects start to kick in. In fact, even the Chinese believe that one needs to drink 300 shots over time in order to truly understand the appeal of baijiu.

Update: This spot is sadly no longer open. As diverse Mexican food is, there are times when we just have a craving for something different, which is why we were delighted recently to discover La Petite Crepe in the Centro Histórico, a tiny eatery producing delicious crepes and tasty beverages with an international pedigree.