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.

At its new location in Colonia Condesa, Chef Santiago Muñoz’s Maizajo has grown and evolved, yet maintains its original goal: to honor Mexico’s creole corn –the many endemic corn varieties that are grown traditionally across the country– and turn out some of Mexico City’s best tacos in the process. It’s a warm Saturday afternoon in CDMX, and there’s a line outside Maizajo. Chef Santiago Muñoz’s tortillería/taquería/restaurant, centered on Mexico’s revered corn, has been a hit since it opened in the winter of 2023, but this is in no way an out-of-the-blue phenomenon. Maizajo’s new outpost in Colonia Condesa is the concept’s third iteration, as well as its largest and most ambitious to date.

It may seem absurd to tell the story of Sicilian gastronomic culture through typical American fast food favorites, but that is just part of the culinary richness of this island. This is the concept at FUD: Bottega Sicula, a restaurant that offers the likes of hamburgers, hot dogs, burritos, and fries, all with a distinctive Sicilian touch. From the local ingredients to the clever marketing, everything at FUD is a game of names and flavors. The idea was born in 2012, the brainchild of 47-year-old restaurateur Andrea Graziano. Andrea, originally from Catania, shares that he has always had a passion for cooking: after graduating, he worked for two years in England as a chef, a fate common to many Sicilians.

For many visitors to New York, the first sight of Queens comes from above, during the approach to JFK or LaGuardia, the city's two international airports. And the first thought, upon landing, is to keep going. How far is it, they wonder, to our hotel, and to the museums, theaters, shopping, and sights? How long till we get to "the city"? For culinary explorers, Queens is not merely a way station, it is a destination in itself. The largest in area of the five boroughs of New York City, Queens is the home of well over two million people, half of them born outside the United States, speaking untold hundreds of mother tongues. During the course of a day, we might hear a dozen languages without breaking a sweat.

While to-go and delivery meals have seen a particular resurgence in the past few years, hungry Angelenos have always turned to takeout as a great way to enjoy the city’s food. L.A.’s vast culinary offering and great takeout options means that you can enjoy a Thai picnic on the beach, take a bag of fresh Mexican pastries for a long commute, or bring home boxes of Detroit-style pizzas for an easy group meal. Whether you’re hoping to try something new or just want to skip cooking dinner, our local guides have handpicked some of the best takeout eats from our archive.

In the heart of Istanbul's Fatih district, not far from the colossal mosque of the same name and the headquarters of the city municipality, there is no shortage of great places to eat. These range from the popular kebab joints of Kadınlar Pazarı to the Syrian restaurants, markets, dessert shops and coffee stands on Akşemsettin Avenue, which also boasts one of the city's best and oldest yogurt producers. On a side street right in the middle of all of this lies Bezirgan Çiğ Köfte, a small four-table spot elegantly decorated with relics of the past from Anatolia, including rugs, prayer beads, and ancient, sturdy brass coffee grinders. At the entrance stands the shimmering counter, which is loaded to the brim with heaps of arugula, lettuce, mint and parsley. Next to that lies a mound of çiğ köfte bigger than a bowling ball.

Masami Sugihara likely wouldn’t call herself a chef. A licensed food consultant, fermented foods sommelier, classically trained chef, and concert violinist, she’s unsatisfied with wearing a single hat, having played different professional roles behind the counter and on stage for most of her adult life. During lunch service, she sports an apron gifted to her by the waitstaff at one of Tokyo’s best luxury hotels – a venue she frequents as a violinist, not a caterer. Her restaurant, Sakanaya no Daidokoro, in Musashi Koganei, translates simply to “Fishmonger’s Kitchen.” It’s a fitting name that reflects the type of home-style Japanese food served here and speaks to the seafood-only main dish selection.

Over many epochs, Marseille has experienced waves of immigration and is considered to be an invaluable gateway city to France. Italian immigration to Marseille began in the late 18th century and increased significantly after the end of World War I, when France's industrial development required a great deal of labor. During the interwar period, 90 percent of the foreign population in Marseille was Italian. Still today, 30 percent of the city’s population is of Italian origin. The current mayor of Marseille, Benoît Payan, is from a family with Italian roots. The similarities between Provençal and Italian dialects are evident. There is no doubt that this cultural history has influenced the culinary tradition of the city. Pizza was first introduced to France in Marseille. All over the city, there are small Italian épiceries (specialty food shops) and restaurants.

A traditional cantina with the looks of a saloon from an old Western movie, La Jaliscience is located in the southern Mexico City neighborhood of Tlalpan. Legend says that it has been there since “the dawn of time.” First it was a bodega, or warehouse, at the corner of the old government building that stands just in front – photos and written records certify its existence dating at least back to 1870. In those days this neighborhood was a town called San Agustín de las Cuevas, and La Jaliscience was the last chance to buy things for those heading to Cuernavaca or Acapulco by horse or mule; preserved goods were kept and sold here, and the customer could also have a drink before hitting the long and winding roads.

Oaxaca’s urban identity has been shaped in part through food and eating habits, a phenomenon that is perhaps best experienced as the sun starts to set. At dusk, food stalls start to open, filling the streets with the aroma of dishes that are now staples of Oaxaca’s vibrant food scene. These sweet and savory treats have been developed over decades – if not centuries – to become integral parts of what we now recognize as Oaxacan cuisine. Each dish and ingredient here tells a long story, deeply connected to the place where it’s offered and the time of day it’s consumed. From the tortas and tostadas serving the hungry after-work crowd to lime-and-chile seasoned elote and esquites (corn on the cob or in a cup – the perfect mobile snack to enjoy in the park) to late-night tlayudas or a smoky mezcal nightcap, the Oaxacan night is for savoring.

South Asian transplants say the best desi food is always served at home, not in restaurants. But Mohammad Yunus, the manager of Lahori Darbar in Istanbul’s Kumkapı neighborhood, thinks otherwise. “The taste here is better than what you get at home,” he said in front of his no-frills joint Lahori Darbar, located a stone’s throw from the grand Armenian Patriarchate, one of the area’s landmarks. On our visit, South Asian tourists and businessmen chatted, snacking on chana dal and chapati at the corner spot, amid a sea of blue-and-white meyhanes. Kumkapı– a stretch along the Marmara Sea – was once the center of Istanbul’s Armenian community, but a shifting kaleidoscope of immigrant groups have moved through the area, opening and closing shops and restaurants in a flash.

It's a common bond shared by children all across the United States: lining up for lunch at the school cafeteria. Our own fond memories of these meals are few and far between, particularly when we think of the institutional food on the menu. We had better luck with lunches packed from home – in part because we could show off our TV-themed lunchboxes – but for many school children, then and now, this isn't always an option. Enter the lunch lady: a nostalgic, nurturing figure who presides over the cafeteria, and who ensures that the children get what they need.