The traditional way of preparing coffee in Italy is using a manual lever coffee machine, which allows for precise control over the temperature and pressure of the water, resulting in a rich and flavorful cup of coffee. But there’s more to it than just technique. In some cafés in Sicily, coffee is not simply a craft but a cultural artifact, creating it considered a work of art. Though Palermo has its fair share of coffee, it’s not always easy to find cafés where these traditions are honored with care and diligence. The Bar del Corso is one such hidden gem in the heart of Palermo. Located on the bustling Via Vittorio Emmanuel – the oldest street in Palermo, where every vendor vies for attention – its modest storefront does not catch the eye at first glance.

When the neighborhood institution Öz Konak Lokantası closed back in December 2022, it left a hole in the bustling, bohemian-turned-touristy Cihangir neighborhood for reliable, homestyle lunch and dinner food. And not just food, but a feeling of community and home that the restaurant had offered its former customers. Dilara Eren, a chef and recipe developer, was, at that moment, finishing up a job as the Turkey community manager for a food recipe app and figuring out what was next in her career. She’d managed a big restaurant in the past and had been catering on the side, building a local following for her creative, delicious dishes. Neighborhood friends kept saying, “We need a new lunch place to replace Oz.” With that in mind she opened Zerze, an inviting, new-generation lokanta on the busy main street that runs through the neighborhood.

Across Marseille, winter’s neon-yellow mimosas have given way to amandiers’ (almond trees’) fragrant white and pink blooms. Here, the French adage, “en avril, ne te découvre pas d'un fil. En mai fais ce qu'il te plaît,” (in April, don't remove a stitch. In May, do as you wish,”) is oft quipped, for our springtime weather can be fickle. Last weekend, I took a dip in the Mediterranean to cool off after a sun-soaked, 70-degree hike; as I write this, the local mistral wind has iced down the air temperature to just above freezing. Despite spring’s yo-yoing thermometer, ‘tis the season for Marseillais to fill up outdoor patios.

It snowed in Tokyo on March 22 – a wet, rain-like snow that puddled as soon as it touched the ground, but snow nonetheless. It was un-springlike as the week before was sunny. Early spring is sly and tricky here. One moment the kawazu-zakura have blanketed trees in pink popcorn blooms, the next moment it’s cloudy skies and planning hotpot dinners all over again. But it is glorious when temperatures aren’t whipsawing wildly from hot to freezing, when spring finally deigns to show up in the form of balmy, blue-skied days and flowers blooming everywhere. Spring days like this are beautiful for cycling in Tokyo. Fresh air, warm sun and, best of all, no freezing fingers and ears when you’re on a bike.

Spring in Naples is the sweetest season. As in many Italian and Mediterranean cities, the sunlight is gentle and temperatures are mild, which makes walking the ups and downs of the hilly city more enjoyable. And, should the blue of the sky be shaded by the clouds, the white-and-blue celebratory flags which anticipate the long-awaited local soccer team’s victory at the national soccer championship – defeating the Neapolitans’ famous superstition – restore the appropriate shade at every corner of the city. If it’s still too early – for most of people, at least – to take a swim in the gulf or cruise it on a kayak, this is the perfect time to explore Naples on foot, discovering its unexpected green soul.

Our most immediate question about a spring day in Queens is often answered when we wake up, just by looking out the window: How's the weather? Springtime in Queens can be overcast or sunny, drizzly or dry, blustery or breezy, chilly or temperate, often cycling between pleasant and inclement every two or three days. When we identify a day that's too good to waste indoors, it's time to take full advantage.

In the song that became almost an anthem of Porto, the famous songwriter Rui Veloso describes the city where he was born in phrases like “of this beautiful and darkening light” and “seeing you abandoned like that in that brownish timbre.” Certainly, Veloso, one of the best-known artists in Portuguese music, wasn’t thinking about Porto during the springtime. Portugal’s second city is completely transformed when the season of flowers arrives: the weather and the mood gets sunny, lively, and colorful, an invitation for locals and tourists to go outdoors. Flowers bloom in parks, and tables in cafes and bars are crowded with people. It is the prelude of the effervescent life of the city taking shape. The portuenses (as the locals are called) know how to enjoy the city when the temperatures get warmer and the days get longer.

At the end of a long wooden table, a foursome passes colorful plates of food: mouthwatering meat dumplings in tomato sauce, sauteed zucchini topped with minty yogurt, and rice flecked with cumin. Sitting across from a refrigerator, below a row of fake potted plants, and beside shelves stacked with mismatched plates, they could be dining at someone’s house. Which is, in fact, Chez Romain et Marion’s raison d’être. “We want people to feel honored that they’re dining at an Afghan family’s home,” shares Romain. His mother, Myriam Rahman Ebadi, simmers homey dishes like dâl, turmeric red lentils, and achak, leek ravioli, in the restaurant’s tiny kitchen.

On a weeknight near the tail end of March, Istanbul found some clear skies after an annoyingly wet winter. The sky was navy blue, verging on purple, and it was jean-jacket weather, the best kind. Just shy of 10 p.m., we ambled through our most-frequented corner of the Beyoğlu district, the area where Mis, Kurabiye and Süslü Saksı Streets converge. This triangle is home to some of our favorites: Köfteci Hüseyin fires up some of the tastiest grilled meatballs in Istanbul, Zübeyir Ocakbaşı grills skewers of the best lamb money can buy, Müşterek and Meclis offer excellent meze in a warm setting, while Marlen is our favorite place to drown in pints of Tuborg beer or sip reasonably-priced cocktails. That early-spring night, the outdoor tables were mostly full, and would have been jam-packed had it been a weekend.

I moved to London in 2013 after living in Athens for five years with my sister. During that time, the first time we really lived on our own as adults, we developed a few routines and obsessions around food that we still follow to this day. They mostly revolved around our then-neighborhood, Mavili Square, and the center of Athens. In the years that followed, any plans to visit home started with picking which day we would go and get ourselves some souvlaki from Kostas on Mitropoleos street and peinirli from Peinirli Ionias on Panormou street (yes, both of these would happen on the same day!).

Sōsuke Hirai’s hands tilt this way and that as the machine whirrs, raining large, fine flakes of ice into a bowl. He pauses the machine, lightly pats the ice and taps the bowl on the counter, allowing the ice to sink and compress. A swirl of persimmon tea syrup is added to the ice. Then it goes back under the machine for a second ice shower. Over this, several twirls of a cinnamon-infused milk syrup, a few tea-flavored meringue cookies, two large soup spoons of rum-spiked zabaglione. More ice. His hands gently coax the shavings into an elegant dome.

The birthplace of pizza, Naples is awash with unbeatable pizzerias. Don’t want to miss out on the perfect pie? Culinary Backstreets has you covered. Our team of locals has handpicked the best of the best pizzas in Naples, highlighting the art of the city’s pizzaiolos – now recognized on the list of UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage.

Don’t be fooled by the name of Lil’ Dizzy’s Cafe. There’s no coffee, and in fact, the iconic establishment feels more like an auntie’s overstuffed living room than a café. Situated in the heart of Tremé, the oldest African-American neighborhood in America, Dizzy’s is crammed with family paintings and inauguration memorabilia for President Barack Obama, with signed jerseys of retired Saints football players dotting above the doorway. The celebration of community is the norm in New Orleans. And Dizzy’s is an exemplar of this – purer than the sugarcane used in its sweet tea. Customers stream in – men in suits, others in shorts, cops, families, out-of-towners, mailmen and more as soon as the clock hits 11 a.m. The door unlocks, and Dizzy’s staff begin to shout out “Welcome to Dizzy’s” to first-timers and “Hey, baby! How ya doing?” to regulars.

As difficult as the last two years have been for food businesses, it has offered many establishments an opportunity to rethink how they do things and come back with a greater sense of purpose. Take the example of Oaxaca’s Oscuro Brebaje, a café that took a pause, only to emerge stronger and more inviting. Founded in 2015 by a young barista, Andrés González Martell, Oscuro Brebaje started off serving artsy frappés, light breakfasts and unforgettable cakes – all of which have become the signature bites of this unassuming café located in the old neighborhood of La Noria. Here, locals and visitors interact in the peaceful and picturesque streets full of old houses and colorful facades.

It was an unusual night. But Black Sheep is, admittedly, an unusual venue. Lucas Ferreira, one of the co-owners of the Lisbon wine bar, had pulled out a guitar and was engaging in a jam session with a former bandmate. For a good 45 minutes, the normally buzzy bar was on pause: the chatter had ceased, glasses were not being poured. The only interruption was the occasional bark of an elderly dog that was wandering the space. Customers were singing along, the lights were low, and the vibe was less of a wine bar and more of a private party.