The Athens food scene has been booming over the past few years. The increasing number of tourists, the growing optimism of investors who see a financial opportunity in the food industry, as well as an ever-growing pool of talented new chefs, cooks, baristas and bartenders have all contributed to this creative regeneration – not just of the food scene but of the city itself. There is a deeper interest in high-quality ingredients, which is why we’re seeing more and more farm-to-table and organic restaurants. Food trends are also making an inroad, hence the growing number of street food and vegan options – some of which are so good that they really deserve an award.

Black ice cream is not an easy sell, but Jose Luis Cervantes, AKA Joe Gelato, is a persuasive guy. It’s not just his million-dollar smile or easygoing nature, but also the passion that he clearly feels for his gelato. “Before I went to Italy, I knew about the concept of gelato,” says Jose, “but I had no idea how good it would be. I had only tasted what was available in Mexico at time. I went there and felt the fat in my mouth, the sugars, I can’t explain it – I love it. I love the whole culture around gelato.”

In the center of Exarchia, a hub of activism often referred to as the “anarchist” neighborhood of Athens, a small minimalist eatery with just a few tables outside opened last April and was an instant success by breaking all the rules. At first glance it looks like a regular souvlaki shop, with sauces and condiments lined up at the front, pita breads being grilled and potatoes being fried. It even smells familiar, but if you look closely, you will notice that there is no meat in sight or, to be exact, no animal products. Welcome to Cookoomela Grill, Greece’s first vegan souvlaki spot.

Editor’s note: It’s Beat the Heat Week at Culinary Backstreets, and in this week’s stories, we’re sharing some of our favorite spots to visit when the summer temperatures soar. Mexico City is blessed with great weather all year round. Summer is not very hot because it’s the rainy season, and at 2,200 meters above sea level, things cool down very fast as soon as the rain starts falling. However, we still get our hot days, especially in the spring, and even early afternoons in summertime can make us break out in a sweat. Two of the many delicious ways we have to cool down are paletas (popsicles) and raspados (shaved ice).

Way before brunches, special bowls, latte foam art and white marble counters took the city by storm, restaurants like Petite Folie, Lorde, Saraiva’s, Bacchus and Belcanto were the coolest cats in Lisbon. You wouldn’t walk in not wearing a nice jacket or a dress. You would never go straight to your table – first, you would sit at the bar, greet your favorite waiter, who knew you by name, and order your usual drink, which he would already be preparing. But those days are gone, like most of those restaurants – the ones that aren’t, such as Michelin-starred Belcanto or the newly reopened Saraiva’s, have changed dramatically.

The holiday season is one of the more subdued times of the year in Mexico City. Many people leave the city for vacation or to visit family and friends in other parts of the country. We, however, tend to stick around more often than not, traveling around the city and enjoying the relative peace. That’s how we happened upon Coox Hanal, a restaurant hidden inside a century-old building in the Centro Histórico that specializes in the cuisine of the Yucatán, the peninsula that juts out into the Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean Sea like a hitchhiker’s thumb. The adventure began when we trudged up a few flights of stairs to the second-floor landing, where we found the restaurant’s entrance. It, along with the stairwell, was plastered with posters and artwork from the sun-kissed and beach-filled Yucatán.

The oldest suburb in Mexico City, Santa María la Ribera has seen better days, but it continues to surprise us with cultural and culinary discoveries. One of the most emblematic sites of this colonia is Alameda Poniente park, where, at the center, sits the beautiful Kiosco Morisco, a Porfirio Díaz-era pavilion that is often used as the backdrop for wedding and quinceañera photographs. Right in front of the park is Máare, a Yucatecan restaurant that has been one of our most delicious discoveries in Santa Maria la Ribera. In business for more than eight years, this restaurant is the brainchild of José Ramón and Gabriela Castilla. Although José Ramón has lived in Mexico City for 25 years, he’s extremely proud of his Yucatecan heritage.

The debate rages on: which are Greece’s best traditional Christmas cookies, kourambiedes or melomakarona? Amongst our friends and family, moist, honey-soaked melomakarona win out over the crumbly, butter-rich almond kourambiedes. The word “melomakarona” is a combination of meli, which means “honey,” and makaronia, which comes from the ancient Greek word makaria (μακαρία), meaning “blessed” (and having nothing to do with the Italian pasta with the Greek name “macaroni”). Long ago, the makaria was a piece of oval-shaped bread made for a funerary dinner to bless the dead. Later on, the makaria was soaked in honey and became known as melomakarono (the singular form of the word; these cookies are also called finikia by some).

In summer, there are just a couple of things that lisboetas will queue for: the beach and ice cream. The city is blessed with good places for both, but between the two, we prefer the latter, which in Lisbon tends to be Italian-style gelato, as served in the most long-standing and successful shops in town. Tucked away in a corner of Restauradores, A Veneziana still has the same façade and is run by the same family as when it opened in 1936. The shop is small, with a big esplanada, or terrace, on which customers can sit and enjoy their treats.

In Mexican cuisine, sweets are for the most part simple treats that are enjoyed at the park, market or beach, such as caramelized fruits and vegetables, blocks of nuts or amaranth seeds held together with honey, or small rice paper cakes filled with honey. The common denominator of most of these sweets is their simplicity. When it comes to ice cream and other frozen delights, however, the country truly shines, with an astounding variety of cold treats to please sweet tooths of every persuasion. The range of frozen desserts found in Mexico City includes everything from raspados – ice shavings served in plastic bags or cups to which a flavor of choice is added – to Italian gelato served in some of the most sophisticated restaurants in town.

Through the gate on Kallidromiou and down the steps, the enchanting stone-paved courtyard at last reveals itself, a hidden oasis of fragrant lemon trees, geraniums, bougainvillea and jasmine in this densely built neighborhood. A charming mural of children in class is painted on one side of the yard, right next to the water fountains that thirsty students used to run to during their break. Inside, walls are decorated with old black-and-white photos from the school’s archives. A modern mezedopoleio housed in a historical neoclassical building, Ama Lachi stis Nefelis (If by Chance at Nefeli’s) holds the unusual distinction of being the former public primary school of Exarchia.

Carioca summer culture is dictated by the heat. It’s courteous to ask guests if they’d like to take a quick shower upon arriving at your home (because everyone takes multiple showers a day in the summer). Beer at parties must be estupidamente gelado. Movie theaters sell out even for so-so films because the air conditioning inside is delícia. This year, the Rio city government took the bold step of legalizing the use of knee-length shorts for city employees and bus drivers during the summer. Four other critical ways that locals chill out are: sorvete (traditional ice cream), picolé (popsicles), gelato and sacolé (anything frozen in a plastic sack).

Mexico’s Yucatán Peninsula was home to some of the most important Maya cities during pre-Hispanic times. One can still get a glimpse the glory of those cities in ruins such as at Chichen Itza, considered one of the seven wonders of the modern world. On the ruins of a smaller Mayan city, T’ho, the Spanish conquistadors founded Mérida in 1542; since then, the city has been the economic, cultural and gastronomic center of the Yucatán Peninsula. We visited the city recently and fell in love immediately. Thanks to its proximity to the harbor of Puerto Progreso and the importance of the henequen industry – which turned the fibers of a native agave plant into rope – Merida’s culture, economy and architecture grew dazzlingly from the 19th through the early 20th century.

We’d heard from a colleague that Renatos had the best barbacoa game in town, and we finally got the chance to confirm this claim for ourselves a couple of weeks ago. This family joint in Mexico City’s Azcapotzalco neighborhood has been in business for 55 years. Its owner, Renato Álvarez, gave us a little history lesson about his family and their barbacoa business. The barbacoa recipe prepared in Renatos is from the state of Hidalgo, famous for mutton slow-cooked in a pit dug into the ground.

The subject of frequent arguments over who actually invented it, baklava has a history as multilayered as the flaky dessert itself. The story may actually go all the way back to the 8th century BCE and the Assyrians, who layered bread dough with chopped nuts and honey and baked the result – a kind of proto-baklava – in wood-burning ovens. Perhaps carried by the winds of trade, different versions of this ancient dessert appeared on Greece’s shores a few centuries later. The 3rd-century-CE Deipnosophistae ("Banquet of the Learned") – sometimes referred to as the oldest surviving cookbook – provides the recipe for gastrin, aka Cretan “Glutton Cake,” a sweet that also seems to presage the arrival of baklava as we know it. The instructions, attributed to Chrysippus of Tyana, one of the leading dessert experts of antiquity, calls for turning various chopped nuts, boiled honey and poppy and sesame seeds into a paste which is then spread between two sheets of thin, rectangular dough. At a certain point, ancient Greek cooks started using thinner sheets of pastry, better known as phyllo – Greek for “leaf” – getting closer to today’s baklava.