Immerse yourself on this multi-day trip in the complex cultural identity of Mexico City, where pre-Hispanic, colonial, and contemporary influences collide.

Right after our Mexico City Trip, immerse yourself on this add-on trip in the complex cultural identity of Oaxaca, where pre-Hispanic, colonial, and contemporary influences collide.

When Tomás Gonzalez brought his family to New York City from Acapulco in 1985, they settled first in the South Bronx. His new home had little in common with his old home, a port city and the tourist heart of Mexico’s Guerrero State on the Pacific Coast. But one constant remained: his desire to cook. Sr. Gonzalez spent much of his life in and around the restaurant his family ran in Acapulco, a faraway paradise that most people in the States knew only from prize holiday packages on The Price is Right. He first tried selling churros on the Grand Concourse in the Bronx, but quickly realized that there were not enough Mexicans to buy them.

Portugal’s great 19th-century novelist José Maria de Eça de Queiroz was ahead of his time in many ways, dealing with raw subjects like incest, abortion and priestly sex crimes in his books. Yet Eça de Queiroz, a renowned bon viveur, also peppered his writings with less controversial culinary references. In fact, one of his best-loved scenes features the main character tucking into roast chicken and rice with fava beans. It’s a fictional meal that Restaurante de Tormes, a restaurant in the hamlet of Santa Cruz do Douro dedicated to serving dishes associated with the author, has turned into a reality.

In Shanghai, robot restaurants (and grocery stores) were all anyone could talk about in 2019. Well, that and bubble tea shops. But we love that there are still thousands of mom-and-pop restaurants serving traditional foods that are handmade and well loved, if you know where to look. So next time, skip that trendy, US$100-a-head hotpot joint where you still have to queue for an hour after your reservation has passed, and try your local noodle joint. Of course, you’ll probably scan the QR code on your table to order (and pay), and you won’t even chat to the staff until they put your dishes in front of you – after all, it is 2019 in one of the most tech-forward cities in the world.

In the tale of Don Lázaro El Viajero, a Spanish Jew named Lázaro L. Torra, escaping the fascist advance in that nation’s civil war, fled in 1939 to Mexico City – one of tens of thousands that then-President Lázaro Cárdenas invited to find refuge in Mexico amid the black conflict of that war. By 1944 Torra had become something of a restaurateur/maestro, teaching kids in a kinda-working-class, kinda-middle-class neighborhood to speak in English and improve their Spanish and feeding them some decent grub in the same go. (The name of the restaurant, Mr. Lazarus the Traveler, has to do with its proximity to a road heading out of town before the city went all crazy huge and viral.) That was the deal. You got food, but you had to learn something in the process.

It only took three years for Alibaba’s made-up shopping holiday on Singles Day, originally a joke celebration created by students in Chinese universities in the 1990s, to exceed Cyber Monday and Black Friday’s sales figures – combined. Since 2009, massive discounts have been offered annually on November 11 (11/11 – one is the loneliest number, after all). In 2019, sales on Alibaba topped US$38 billion in a 24-hour period, blowing last year’s record – US$30 billion – out of the water. In case there’s any doubt as to the importance the company places on the date, this year Taylor Swift performed at the gala evening that coincided with the day’s online sales activities.

It’s a crisp and cold winter morning in Alentejo. We are in Mora, a one-and-a-half-hour drive from Lisbon, to visit Susana Esteban’s winery, a very simple adega where her award-winning wines are made. Susana welcomes us at the door and leads us inside, where, sitting among the barrels, we taste her wines. They leave a strong impression on us, and not just because of the early hour – the wines have a distinct personality, one that’s formed on the vine. Yet when we peek outside, there are no vineyards in sight, only oak and cork trees. That’s because Susana grows her grapes in Serra de São Mamede, a mountain range in Portalegre, one-hour east of Mora and close to the Spanish border.

Dust, sweat, rain, and severe sun – these were only a few of the many discomforts that travelers of yore suffered as they made the long journey in horse-drawn carriages from their home provinces to Barcelona. In those days – around a century or two ago – the city was protected by fortified walls; it was outside of those walls, in an area known as Hostafrancs, part of the Santa Maria de Sants village (today the neighborhood of Sants), that many travelers and merchants found a convenient refuge – a place to recover from the journey. Taverna La Parra was one of the several inns that dotted the area.

Wooden wine barrels with taps, shabby old furniture, noisy antiquated fridges, soda siphons from the 1960s… these are the building blocks of Barcelona’s classic bodegas. Formerly shops that sold bulk wine, liquor and ice, these bodegas survived the Spanish Civil War, social conflicts, food shortages, financial crises and, of course, modernity, with their essence intact, even if they morphed into bars or restaurants along the way. The most important element of a neighborhood bodega, however, is neither readily visible nor easily captured: it’s the place of importance these spots occupy in the lives and hearts of the local residents. They are the scene of innumerable childhood memories and infinite moments shared with other locals from the block, making them a dependable point of reference in time and space.

The Algarve, one of the most visited regions in Portugal, also has some of the country’s most distinctive and delicious cooking. Integrating layers of different historical influences, from the Romans to the Moors, along with fishing traditions and countryside rusticity powered by its fertile land, the Algarve has made a deep impression on Portugal. But until Taberna Albricoque came on the scene, the region hadn’t been making much of an impact on Lisbon menus. Bringing the Algarve’s history to the forefront of Lisbon dining was one of the goals of chef Bertílio Gomes in opening his new restaurant. Albricoque, in fact, is the word for apricot in the Algarve, notable because the south has preserved its Arab etymology, as elsewhere in the country damasco is used (instead associating the fruit with the city of Damascus).

A former village annexed to Barcelona in 1897, the city’s Sant Andreu district was a center of industrial development throughout the 20th century, becoming home to a large population of factory workers. Today, it is a quiet residential area that feels caught between its Catalan village roots and industrial past, with buildings being renovated and repurposed, including factories transformed into creative arts complexes and parks, and a former canódromo (dog-racing track) that is now an “innovation center.” It’s not a part of town that’s considered a dining destination, but Sant Andreu’s El Congrés neighborhood now has its own gastronomic unicorn: TocaTeca, which opened in 2012. A unique establishment of its kind in the area – for now, at least – the restaurant is a gourmet endeavor sustained by a couple of professional chefs, Maria Cots and Guillem Carulla.

The restaurant that Inês Mendonça dreamed of can only be described using the Portuguese expression levantar as pedras da calçada – literally, to raise the stones from the sidewalk” –to create something totally new and groundbreaking. When Porto’s now-popular Ruas das Flores was being restored, the din of construction clanging as workers labored to turn it into a pedestrian-only thoroughfare, Inês was seeing miles ahead. It was there that her restaurant would open its doors, she decided, and it would be a place different from all the rest – relaxed and full of curiosities.

At Pollería Fontana, a cozy restaurant inspired by the owner’s history in a poultry shop, it’s neither chicken nor eggs, but rather family that comes first. The name, which means Fontana’s Poultry Shop, is a tribute to the owner’s family business, a store selling chickens and eggs that was established by chef Nil Ros’ grandparents in 1935. But for the last six years, Pollería Fontana has been a contemporary, lovely little restaurant with an idiosyncratic personality in Gràcia, a fittingly idiosyncratic neighborhood that hosts Barcelona’s highest concentration of small independent restaurants. With old kitchenware and trinkets strewn about, numerous family photos in black and white hanging and a casual but warm atmosphere perfect for small groups and families, the space is like a contemporary tribute to the Catalan culinary neighborhood tradition.

If you hadn’t read the flyer closely before heading to Shanghai’s first ever MeatFest last month, you might have been a bit disappointed upon arrival. The sounds and smells of sizzling meat might have seemed like a carnivore’s dream come true, but the name was tongue in cheek; the event was thrown by Vegans of Shanghai for “eco-conscious meat lovers” and served only domestically sourced plant-based “meat” products. It’s part of a bigger push towards eating a plant-based diet in China, where vegetarians make up less than 5% of the population. But even at such a low rate, that still comes out to approximately 50 million people (a population larger than that of Spain). Historically vegetarianism is rooted in Buddhist or Taoist beliefs but, like recently in the West, the meat-free lifestyle in China has become less about religion and more focused on health and being environmentally friendly – and millennials are leading the pack.