The Bosphorus Strait, which divides the city of Istanbul and separates the European and Asian continents, has long influenced the city’s cuisine. Although it’s no longer heaving with fish, we can still see some fresh catches on our Born on the Bosphorus walk, which begins in the market of Beşiktaş.

We spotted a bin full of durians at a Queens market while on our United Kitchens walk. Some may shy away from this intriguing fruit because of the smell, but we love it. In fact, at the end of our walk, we stop by a neighborhood cafe that specializes in desserts made from durian for something sweet

Hot off the success of his last book, Baijiu: The Essentials, baijiu expert Derek Sandhaus has published Drunk in China: Baijiu and the World’s Oldest Drinking Culture (University of Nebraska Press; November 2019). This new title focuses in on Chinese drinks and how they have influenced nearly all aspects of life in China throughout its history – as long as there has been a China, there has been a Chinese drinking culture. In addition to traveling the world spreading baijiu knowledge and promoting his own baijiu line, Ming River, Sandhaus also manages the site www.drinkbaijiu.com, which contains all of the basics for understanding baijiu and also has a large and growing database of cocktails for the adventurous mixologist.

Mexico City-born chef Danny Mena, the man behind some of the most exciting Mexican restaurants in New York, has penned a love letter to his hometown in the form of his new cookbook, Made in Mexico (Rizzoli; September 2019). Written with journalist and recipe developer Nils Bernstein, the book mixes recipes inspired by Mexico City street food, local eateries, and higher-end restaurants, resulting in a delicious blend of classic regional and contemporary Mexican cuisine. More than a cookbook, it also functions as an image-filled guide for your next trip to Mexico City. We spoke to Mena about Mexico City’s food scene, Chilangos’ eating habits, the cookbook-writing process and more for the latest installment in our Book Club series.

Renowned orange wine expert and award winning writer Simon J. Woolf tells the full history of this ancient wine and its modern struggle to gain acceptance in Amber Revolution: How the World Learned to Love Orange Wine (Interlink Books; Fall 2018). While the focus is mainly on orange wine history and culture in Slovenia, Italy and Georgia, the book also includes profiles of 180 of the best producers from 20 countries worldwide and is crammed full of all the information you need to find the best orange wines worldwide. We spoke to Woolf about the relationship between natural and orange wine, how Georgia fits into this story, the future of orange wine and much more.

When the colder temperatures arrive, we stop by Lello’s stand for octopus soup, a beloved winter street delight for generations. Called the tea of Neapolitans, it’s a hot drink that tastes of the sea, as the water is flavored by the long boiling of the king of cephalopods. Discover Naples’ iconic street foods on our walk.

A symbol of abundance and fertility, of good luck and wealth, of life and death, pomegranates have played an important role in Greece since antiquity. With their beautiful, crowned shape, this fruit figures heavily in Greek mythology, connected as it is to the goddesses Demetra, Persephone, Hera and Aphrodite. Apart from their symbolic meaning, pomegranates are also highly praised for their wonderful flavor and remarkable health benefits. Grown in abundance in Greece, there are many varieties available, with the most popular being Ako, Wonderful, and Hermione. The latter has an exterior that is almost pale yellow in color, and its seeds are paler too, but large in size, juicy and very sweet.

For the most part, hamburgers in Mexico City disappoint. The accepted bread-to-beef ratio is shameful, with slender slices of overcooked meat hiding somewhere within the pillowy fluff of too much bread. The stringy, flavorless beef underwhelms. Even worse are the fancy sandwiches one finds at upscale burger joints, where blue cheese and spinach and a dozen other inappropriate ingredients only momentarily distract from the aforementioned defects of bad meat and a surfeit of bread. Against this dim backdrop of underachievement, the hamburgers at the Legión Americana shine like stars. This is something of a surprise considering the no-frills, dive bar atmosphere here.

One tip often given to travelers is to look for restaurants full of locals. In fact, we do the same thing when dining out in Naples: If we see a spot packed with groups of employees or policemen on their lunch break, it’s almost a guarantee that we’ll eat well. Trattoria Avellinese, the late Peppino (Giuseppe) Cipriano’s restaurant near the central train station, is one place that’s always crowded with Neapolitans. Moreover, we can personally testify that this trattoria is a local favorite. Growing up, we lived near Piazza Garibaldi, and whenever our family went out for lunch – which, to tell the truth, wasn’t that often – we went to Peppino’s place.

On our Xochimilco walk, we learn about the one-of-a-kind agricultural system in this UNESCO heritage site. Called chinampas, the island plots of farmland between the canals were first built by the ancient Toltecs when the area was on the edge of a long-gone lake. Today they are still used to feed nearby Mexico City.

When we think of Spanish convent pastries, we imagine a group of old nuns gathered together in the dark and humble kitchen of some small Gothic or Baroque cloistered convent, hidden away in the old part of town. We picture them working quietly, baking elaborate, time-consuming treats from ancient recipes that have been passed down over the centuries by the previous nuns who lived there. Yet when it comes to the only convent in Barcelona that still makes sweets to support themselves, we should throw our biases out the window – Santa Maria de Jerusalem defies all stereotypes.

For those not in the know, the bright yellow table behind the shelves at Indo Java Groceries in Elmhurst, Queens, may seem like nothing more than a curious design choice. But what they don’t realize is that this table is a sign of something great – it means that one of three chefs is in the building. Hailing from different places on the long landmass of Java, the world’s most populous island, these women are cooking meals that remind New York City’s Indonesian community of the tastes they miss from back home. The origin of these popular days, when customers can purchase food cooked on the spot, happened almost by accident: Inspectors from the city health department wanted to see a working kitchen since the grocery store was selling prepared foods.

On our Made in Catalonia walk, we partake in Barcelona’s beloved vermut tradition, symbolized by colorful, 1960s-era carbonated water siphons. Since the end of the 19th century in Barcelona, this ritual – a fresh drink accompanied by tapas composed usually of preserved food, cold cuts, cured or marinated fish or seafood – has been a way to bring people together before meals.

Pies go back a long way in Athens. Harry’s Kitchen, a tiny pie shop on Axarlian, a small pedestrian street near Syntagma Square, does not – this hole in the wall only opened around a year ago. Yet the pies that Harris Satiridis, the shop’s namesake, and his wife, Yiouli, put out have already gained a reputation as some of the best in Athens. You could easily miss Harry’s Kitchen, it’s that small, but you won’t miss the queue of people outside, waiting to get their hands on one of the very tasty-looking pies in the small display case. And after biting into one, you’ll better appreciate why pies have been enjoyed in Athens since antiquity.

On Sunday around lunchtime, the streets of Sanita can get almost eerily quiet. Where normally children play, scooters zoom past, shopkeepers haggle loudly with old ladies, and neighbors stick their heads out of their windows and discuss the latest gossip, suddenly nobody is to be seen or even heard. Sanita is still a very traditional working-class neighborhood in the heart of Naples, and tradition has it that on Sunday afternoon everybody feasts: The whole family gathers around mama’s table for an hours-long lunch. If you happen to wander Sanita’s deserted streets at that time of the week, you’ll constantly catch whiffs of familiar smells: frying garlic, roasting onions, and meat simmered in sauce for many hours. And, more and more often, the tempting, spice-scented smell of curry.