Situated near a school, Tbilisi’s London Park brims with life, with children and teenagers enjoying the playground or relaxing on benches around a modest fountain. Although close to some of the city's busiest tourist streets, the park is flanked by unrenovated buildings and lacks a proper lawn. In a way, it has maintained the old atmosphere of Tbilisi: raw, unpretentious, yet joyful. Next to the fountain stands a small, glass-walled commercial space, often unnoticed by passersby who might not guess its purpose at first glance. This spot has had several incarnations – most recently as an Asian fusion food stall, before that as a shwarma booth, and originally as a café called London Bar. Now, the word “Rosa” is inscribed in both Georgian and Latin letters on its walls.

Throughout this year, food has been a shelter and a source of comfort and healing. From tacos that put us at ease with their tender meats and flavorful salsas, to drinks that cooled us down and helped us sharpen our weary minds, the following are the bites that, for us, were some of the best in town in 2024. - María Ítaka A little space that feels familiar despite its very recent opening, La Frijolería specializes in all things beans, which are one of the ultimate comfort foods in our cuisine. Ironically, before La Frijolería opened its doors, it was hard to find a restaurant in town where beans were served as anything other than a side dish. But now our cravings can rest assured that they will be fulfilled.

Every time we travel outside of Oaxaca, we get something we call “the tortilla blues.” Even if we move around inside of Mexico, particularly in the biggest cities, we cannot help missing the sweet aroma and feel of a warm tortilla almost melting in our hands. Sure, we might run into decadent tacos filled with perfectly cooked meat, or we can taste amazing enchiladas with lush salsa verde. But none of that matters if the tortillas don’t seem to have been touched by the tortillera’s (tortilla maker’s) gifted hands. Everyone talks about the tortilla but not everyone understands it. Supermarkets sell them packed and ready to heat, office workers eat them carelessly at their desks for lunch and only fancy restaurants seem to offer a more authentic version of them.

Along Via Vittorio Emanuele, one of the two thoroughfares that, together with Via Maqueda, bisects Palermo's old center to form its four historic districts, a small sign for a trattoria stands out on the corner of a building. La Casa del Brodo dal Dottore has been open here since 1890, making it the oldest eatery in Palermo and one of the longest-lived in southern Italy. La Casa del Brodo Dal Dottore translates literally to “The House of Broth From the Doctor,” because the specialty of the house is precisely meat broth and related boiled meat. For the first hundred years of operation, the establishment served nothing but broth: in the kitchen of the modest two-room eatery, cooks stirred broth in large pots atop cast-iron wood burning stoves. Customers would sit at a small table where they were served broth, boiled meat, tortellini or pasta in broth.

We’re in Os Papagaios, the restaurant Joaquim Saragga oversees in Lisbon’s Arroios neighborhood, where we’ve asked him to show us how to make one of Lisbon’s more iconic dishes: ervilhas guisadas, peas braised with Portuguese sausages, typically crowned with poached eggs. Come spring, Portugal revels in green-hued produce: fava beans, asparagus, artichoke, spinach and other leaves. Peas feature in this bounty, but the ubiquity of frozen peas means that the dish makes frequent appearances on tasca and restaurant menus during all times of year.

Özlem Warren is a native of Antakya, Türkiye and author of the award-winning cookbook, Özlem’s Turkish Table, Recipes from My Homeland. She is passionate about her homeland’s delicious and vibrant cuisine and has been teaching Turkish cookery at Milk Street, the Istanbul Culinary Institute and other institutions. She champions the cuisine of Türkiye in publishing and at food festivals worldwide, and you can find her recipes on her personal blog, Özlem’s Turkish Table.

The quick trip to France for indulgences not found in Spain is something of a tradition among the Catalan people. During the Francoist regime, many people used to drive to France to skip the dictator’s censorship and wait in long lines in the Perpignan cinemas to see classics of erotic cinema of the time – like The Last Tango in Paris – or to get books and magazines forbidden in Spain. Nowadays, you’d still be hard-pressed to find a Catalan who travels to southern France for the weekend and returns empty-handed, though now they’re like to bring back wine, an artisan pâté, or one of hundreds of wonderful French cheeses.

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.”

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”).

We’re in a small café in Lisbon’s Madragoa neighborhood, and all of the disparate dishes loading down the table in front of us – small bread-like balls, a dish that resembles a small crepe, granola studded with flakes of grains, a pudding-like dessert – have one ingredient in common: cassava. “Cassava is known as the Queen of Brazil,” says Laila Ferreira Soares. “Everyone eats it, it’s always present.” Laila, a native of Brazil, along with her partner, Gregory Busson, a Frenchman, are the pair behind Uaipi, a new café/market in Lisbon with a focus on this particular ingredient.

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.