In the Laz language, “si sore” means, “where are you?” At least twice a week for past few years, our answer to that question at lunchtime would be, “We are at Pera Sisore.” This little restaurant in the Asmalımescit area became one of our go-to lunch spots by serving some of the best Black Sea food around town. But after a disagreement, the two partners of the restaurant went their separate ways and the quality at Pera Sisore, sadly, took a turn for the worse. We were feeling a bit lost for a period, not knowing where to go for a quick, honest lunch of hearty Laz fare. The Black Sea area is Turkey’s culinary misfit – it's not really about kebabs or mezes. If anything, the food there seems to have been mysteriously transplanted from the American Deep South.

All over Athens (not to mention the U.S. and other parts of the world), one of the hottest grains around is also among the oldest known to man. While farro, or zea, as it’s known in Greek, has been found in excavations of prehistoric settlements in parts of what was once Ancient Greece (the oldest, in Asia Minor, dating back to 12,000 BCE), in the early 20th century, its cultivation was banned, largely because it was cheaper to import other grains (though many incredible conspiracy theories behind the ban abound). Thankfully, zea began making a comeback about 15 years ago, and it is now popular again, not just in grain form, but also as flour for making baked goods and pasta.

In order to fully appreciate Tokyo and its deep food scene it’s necessary to not only peek behind the curtain of yesterday, but also join the constant flow of people eating their way through the city of today and even tomorrow. Our Tokyo walk will allow us to do just that, taking us on a journey that serves as an edible survey of the city’s culinary past, present and future.

Whether you call it steamboat, hotpot, Chinese fondue or shabu shabu, one thing is certain: Nothing warms you up in the depths of winter like a steaming bowl of bone broth. As winter continues its dreary hold, here are five of the best places to get hotpot in Shanghai.

“No hamsi, no money.” Mert Kanal hoses down empty Styrofoam containers and surveys the leftover catch in his market in Sinop, on Turkey’s Black Sea coast. The gulls squawk, fighting over scraps on the dock while fishermen tidy their nets for another night of fishing. The hamsi, or anchovies, are gone for the season, moving up the coast in dwindling numbers as hulking factory ships chase them. While mackerel, turbot and whiting are all fair game for fishmongers, hamsi holds a special place in Turkish cuisine. Unlike the slimy, salty canned form of the fish reserved for eccentric pizza toppings in North America, anchovies are eaten fresh in Turkey. Lightly battered, quickly fried and served with a slice of lemon, hamsi are gobbled down by the kilo, bones and all.

Editor's note: Our recurring feature, Building Blocks, focuses on foods and ingredients that are fundamental to the cuisines we write about. Here we look at phyllo, an essential element of the Greek kitchen that tastes best when made by hand. It is thin, fragile, difficult to roll out and fiddly to work with – at least to the uninitiated – and yet phyllo is one of the pillars of the Greek kitchen. This delicate pastry is almost as ubiquitous as bread, turning up in the form of scores of sweet and savory pies with myriad fillings and dozens of shapes that vary depending on what part of Greece you’re in or even whose home you may be visiting. The phyllo-based pita, or pie, is the most versatile of foods: It can be served hot or cold; as a starter, a main course or dessert; eaten on the run or sitting down; lifted out of the frozen food section or made at home.

At first glance, the Gràcia district of Barcelona appears to be the gatekeeper of the resurgent Catalan identity: “Free Catalonia!” graffiti scrawled in the backstreets, Catalan flags flying from so many balconies, the distinct sound of the Catalan language heard in cafés and eateries.

Offering some of the world’s purest, most passionately produced chocolate, along with some of the best coffee in Lisbon, Bettina & Niccolò Corallo on Rua da Escola Politécnica in the Príncipe Real neighborhood has changed the tastes and habits of many locals. There’s no milk chocolate available at this family-run shop, only dark chocolate. And yet Portuguese chocolate lovers – who have a notorious sweet tooth – will swoon when one mentions Corallo’s products. As for the coffee, area residents now wait until 10 a.m., when the café opens, to have their morning brew here.

A bodega can be a corner store or a corner bar, or sometimes even a wine cellar with a small kitchen serving refined riffs on traditional Spanish foods. In Barcelona, a bodega is all of these, but most of all it is the beating heart of the neighborhood.

QUICK BITE: Spend the day eating your way through Sants, a lesser-explored neighborhood with a booming local food scene and an interesting history. We’ll dig into markets and old vermuteria, pastry shops and down home restaurants, but we’ll also find the pulse of Sants in some contemporary culinary projects.

Our “Culinary Secrets of the Old City” walk goes beyond the major monuments and into the backstreets where all of the serious eating is done. We’ll set off through the atmospheric, lesser-explored market streets around the Egyptian Spice Market and then go deeper into the untouristed Fatih neighborhood.

Lisbon seems to be getting its groove back. Or at least, more people are taking notice of this city’s unique character and clearly taking to it. Recently, Vogue and The New York Times profiled the Intendente district, an up-and-coming neighborhood in the city center; Monocle magazine held its first “Quality of Life” conference in Lisbon; and many friends of ours, from Istanbul to San Francisco, are sharing beautiful photos of their latest trip to the city. Oddly, in a city on the upswing with such a rich culinary heritage, we found there was little storytelling on the subject of food and how it impacts Lisbon’s urban culture, be it in print, on the Web or on the ground (as in a tour or other guided experience).

In the era of such food crazes as the “cronut,” it seems that every city has its own classic fried-dough treat that is now being reimagined, and in Athens, loukoumades (think of them as the Greek predecessor of doughnut holes) seem to be getting a major overhaul as of late. Why revamp such a perfect childhood classic, you might ask? Loukoumades are considered to be one of the oldest recorded pastries (and desserts, for that matter) in the world – in fact, the ancient Greek poet Callimachus and philosopher Aristotle wrote about these bite-sized, fluffy fried-dough balls. The triumphant winners of the first Olympic games in ancient Greece were the ceremonious recipients of xarisioi plakoi (χαρίσιοι πλάκοι), or honey gift-cakes.

As the towers of Tokyo’s Nihonbashi financial district began to proliferate and grow taller, developers took special care to preserve and in many cases not displace the area’s mainstream department stores, art galleries and varied restaurants, and so traditional establishments were often incorporated into the new buildings. The Mitsui real estate group, which opened the two Coredo Towers in 2014, made sure to include time-honored restaurants in the new setting, including an amazingly good, classic Edo-mae sushi bar lured from an outdated setting, an outpost of a Kyoto home-cooking restaurant and a dazzling array of famous sweets shops. The developers were also clever enough to include a classic izakaya, or pub-style establishment, enticed away from the Tsukiji market. Every evening, office workers pour out of local mega-buildings and pack into Nihonbashi Suminoe to enjoy the collegial atmosphere and flavorful charcoal-cooked fish. Sakaya means a location in which to purchase sake, and “i” means to stay in a place and feel at ease. Thus, i-sakaya becomes “izakaya” when pronounced correctly, and it’s the perfect way to describe Nihonbashi Suminoe.

Tapioca—a chewy pancake and tasty street snack staple in Rio made from yucca root, which is widely used in Brazil. One of the many humble, delicious snacks to be found while wandering Rio's streets.