The Gion district of Kyoto embodies the romanticism that surrounds Japan’s ancient capital. Filled with machiya (traditional long wooden houses), it harbors several “teahouses,” where geiko — the Kyoto term for geisha – entertain their high-class guests with quick-witted conversation and skilled musical performances. Yet just north of Shijo Street, the neighborhood evolves into a very different kind of entertainment area. Narrow alleyways are filled with small bars, many of which are kyabakura, hostess clubs that sell the fantasy of female attention. It’s a pocket of Kyoto where one needs confidence or an introduction to open many a door. And it’s also hiding one of the city’s best kept ramen secrets.

We were surprised to learn that Jack Dempsey’s restaurant was named after Richard “Jack” Dempsey, a straw hat wearing, cigar chomping former police reporter for the defunct States-Item newspaper, and not after the professional boxer Jack Dempsey, famously known as the Manassa Mauler. Dempsey’s, which occupies a white, converted double shotgun house across from the now deserted F. Edward Hebert Defense Complex, is a throwback to a different era of New Orleans, when neighborhood restaurants dominated the landscape, and you never had to walk too far to get a good meal.

Editor’s note: Alfonso Cuarón’s film “Roma,” set in Mexico City between 1970 and 1971, is expected to win big at the Oscars this weekend – it’s up for ten awards. To celebrate the movie’s success, we’re republishing our 2013 review of La Casa del Pavo, where the main character, Cleo, goes to have a sandwich with her co-worker on their day off and meet up with their boyfriends. Not only is this spot one of the few from the film that is still in business, it is almost completely unchanged. The bird that holds pride of place at the Thanksgiving table has just as important a role south of the border. Turkey has actually been a fundamental part of Mexican cooking for centuries: The Aztecs had domesticated the fowl before they had even laid eyes on a chicken.

“It’s not enough,” says the waiter at O Pascoal. We had inquired if one dish would be sufficient for three people, and his reply is immediate, firm and confident. We take his advice, order another, and the two dishes are easily enough for six people (we are three). We are in Fajão, an aldeia do xisto, “schist village,” in inland, central Portugal’s Beira region – about a two-and-a-half hours’ drive from Porto, or around three hours from Lisbon – and this interaction is the perfect introduction to the almost comically hearty cuisine of this area.

Salty, sticky, and above all pungent, dambalkhacho certainly isn’t for the fainthearted. But for iron-nostrilled khinkali-lovers, the soft, moldy cheese is one of the main attractions at Asi Khinkali, a cozy cellar restaurant in Tbilisi's Marjanishvili district. Made in the mountains, dambalkhacho is challenging to find in the city, but Asi Khinkali has it on the menu both fried and hidden inside their delicious khinkali. Friends Lasha Kozhrisvhili and Paata Jorjikia opened Asi Khinkali three years ago, right at the beginning of the Covid-19 pandemic. “At the start, we had a little space just for online takeaway orders and then we moved here two years ago,” explains manager, Levan Shadize.

In ancient times, the murex shell, “porphyra” in Greek, was the source of a beautiful dye so rare and costly to produce that it was only used for royalty – the royal purple. Three years ago, in Athens’ northern suburb of Melissia, a restaurant calling itself Porphyra opened, preparing high-quality seafood with a creative yet accessible flair – no foam or unrecognizable frills. We have yet to taste a dish there that was less than scrumptious and because we have been following the career of owner, Christos Cjoncari, for 20 years now, we wanted to find out how he does it. When we first met, he was in his late teens, a waiter at Kali Parea, a popular fish place in Nea Erythraia.

In ancient times, the murex shell, “porphyra” in Greek, was the source of a beautiful dye so rare and costly to produce that it was only used for royalty – the royal purple. Three years ago, in Athens’ northern suburb of Melissia, a restaurant calling itself Porphyra opened, preparing high-quality seafood with a creative yet accessible flair – no foam or unrecognizable frills. We have yet to taste a dish there that was less than scrumptious and because we have been following the career of owner, Christos Cjoncari, for 20 years now, we wanted to find out how he does it. When we first met, he was in his late teens, a waiter at Kali Parea, a popular fish place in Nea Erythraia.

Tucked away on the fourth floor of a nondescript building in the heart of Istanbul's Beyoğlu districts lies a hidden gem that we just discovered, despite the fact that Antakya Mutfağı has been in business for twenty years. Here, the Kar family serves up the cuisine of the southern province of Hatay, which boasts some of Turkey’s richest food. Can Yaşar Kar, the restaurant’s founder, is a furniture-maker by trade who decided to open the place as a hobby and serve faithful renditions of Antakya classics. Historically known as Antioch, Antakya was among the most important cities of its kind during the Roman Empire, and is known for a wealth of historic structures, an iconic archaeology museum, and its cosmopolitan, multi-confessional population. Antakya Mutfağı is now run by his son Sofo, who graduated from university with a degree in international relations but decided that he wanted to helm the restaurant.

Six days a week, Pan con Madre buzzes with activity, filled with the irresistible scents of rows and rows of freshly baked sourdough bread and other treats. While today this is one of Oaxaca’s most interesting and popular bakeries, the road to success for Pan con Madre has been a long journey of experimentation, risk taking and innovation. In 2015, a very inspired Jorge Rodrigo Ocampo, now 38, arrived in Oaxaca City with the idea to open a space where he could put all his bread-baking knowledge into action. During his university years he had complemented his biology studies with a part-time job as photojournalist for newspapers in Guadalajara, Querétaro, and his hometown of León, but it was baking that truly captured his imagination.

Pastory is located on Via Sammartino, in an affluent area of Palermo; however, this fresh pasta shop has its roots in revolution. It all began in 1968, a year marked by emancipatory struggles in France and beyond, which were reshaping societal norms and providing women with new avenues for participation and empowerment. Inspired by this transformative era, Serena Sabatino's grandmother, Angelina di Carluccio, made the decision to migrate from Naples to Palermo. Accompanied by her husband, Raffaele Sabatino, who had secured employment in Sicily, Angelina brought with her a wealth of knowledge about the Neapolitan art of pasta fresca all'uovo (fresh egg pasta).

Since we’re a company built around the idea that, when traveling, the stomach serves as the best compass, it’s no surprise that we believe that culinary experiences are the best kind of gift. And while we would be very happy to see you and your loved ones on one of our culinary walks or trips (you can purchase gift certificates here) we also want to use our annual gift guide to showcase some of our favorite products and treasures across our cities. From serious kitchen tools to adorably frivolous snacks and knick knacks, our correspondents, guides and editors have recommended a range of items that they eat, use or just love – often made by people they know. While we can’t guarantee to cover every personality with our gift suggestions, we can promise a relatively short list of highly selective, quality products that are affiliate-link free and Culinary Backstreets-approved.

Just to the east of Flushing, the home of New York City's largest and fastest-changing Chinatown, is a sprawling neighborhood that boasts many of the city's most interesting Korean restaurants and food shops. We hesitate to call it a Koreatown. Compared with the few dense blocks of Manhattan's Koreatown, this part of Queens has a more open feel, with modest buildings, wider streets and more sunlight. Here, in the late 1700s, the Murray family owned a nursery of more than 100 acres filled with trees and other plants imported from around the world. In the late 1800s, when the nursery gave way to residential development, the burgeoning neighborhood was named for the family: Murray Hill.

The post-punk cultural movement of the 1970’s could be described as a period of breaking with traditional elements, embracing the avant-garde and mixing a variety of different influences. It’s also how chef Felipe González describes his restaurant, Otra Cosa Taberna (which translates to “Something Else Tavern”), located in the neighborhood of Sant Andreu. “I like to define Otra Cosa Taberna as ‘post-punk market cuisine’ because is very much a market cuisine; we buy what the neighborhood has to offer,” Felipe explains. “But we’ll also do with these products whatever we want. The interpretation of cuisine, for us, is super free and very ambiguous. You might be eating a Peruvian causa but with octopus and a mayo with olivada, and we totally flip it to present it in a completely different way. The game has no limits.”

Driving east from Oaxaca City, Mexico, into Santiago Matatlán – the town of about ten thousand souls that’s known as the “World Capital of Mezcal” – one’s vista is suddenly dominated by the color green. Across the landscape of gently rolling hills, enormous patchworks of planted agave fields supply the eye with an entire spectrum of verdure, from sage to emerald to jade. The large, spiky magueys, as they’re also called, are everywhere you look, their dusty shades contrasting with the brighter green of the grasses and cacti also dotting the region’s slopes. But we’re not here for mezcal. Instead, different agave beverages are on the menu today: fresh aguamiel and lightly fermented pulque, harvested daily on this land by fifth-generation owner Reina Luisa Cortés Cortés of A&V La Casa del Pulque.

On a busy street in Beşkitaş, nestled between a camera shop and a turşu stand, sits an unassuming storefront offering çiğ köfte. Open only after 3 p.m., it’s easy to walk by and not take notice of what seems like an average fast-food joint. But this is Çiğköfte Yiyelim (which translates to “Let’s eat çiğ köfte!”), and is one of our favorite spots for this dish from southeastern Turkey because of the unique variations offered. Çiğ köfte is a mixture of fine bulgur wheat (sometimes along with raw minced meat), onions, olive oil, tomato and pepper paste, herbs and spices including parsley and cumin, lemon and water that is kneaded together by hand and formed into oblong pieces with characteristic finger-sized indentations in the surface.