In Mexico, the land of eternal spring, something good to eat is always in season. We ravenously await the arrival of artichokes in March, mangos in April, fresh corn in September. Even the wriggly little gusanos de maguey (maguey worms) which appear in May are wildly anticipated – by some. Change in season is subtle here, but essential to the survival of the country. But seasonal lines are blurring. Asparagus rears its tasteless Chilean head all year; pallid strawberries are found in December. Seasons have gone global and our palates suffer for it. Which is all the more reason to pay attention to what’s local now. From July into October, coinciding with our temporada de lluvia, wild mushrooms, spurred on by rain and humidity, hit the markets of central Mexico. Here in the capital, the month of August is high ‘shroom time.

“We grow everything here – kale, dill, peppers, cucumbers, tomatoes, arugula, eggplant, lettuce, cauliflower… everything,” the elderly woman says proudly, waving her hand in the direction of her small field as she digs her worn plastic sandals into the dirt. While she grows the vegetables and herbs, her 80-year-old husband tends his pomegranate trees and takes their products from this patch of farmland at the far northern end of Istanbul’s Sarıyer district to sell at local markets around the city.

When we pick up a hefty, shiny copper pan in his workshop, Emir Ali Enç unhesitatingly claims, “You are now holding the best saucepan in the world.”

Gnarled evergreen mastiha (mastic) trees cling to terraced hillsides throughout the southern part of Chios, a Greek island in the Aegean. These humble trees (Pistacia lentiscus var. chia) have been fought over and cherished for thousands of years because they produce “tears” of delicious and healing sap. The best pharmacists in ancient times used to concoct luxurious healing balms with mastiha sap; Emperor Justinian’s personal physician mixed mastiha and deer brains to make a beauty cream. We haven’t tried that recipe yet.

A few weeks ago we wanted to get out of bustling Mexico City, but we only had one day free, so we decided to look for a place where we could see some sights, eat, enjoy ourselves and still be back before the day was over. We found not just one, but two gorgeous towns that fit the bill in the state of Hidalgo, just over an hour north of Mexico City. The picturesque town of Real del Monte, also known as Mineral del Monte, is a small pueblo mágico (the Ministry of Tourism’s designation for a unique and historically significant village) with a long and rich heritage. It was one of the first mining towns the Spanish established after La Conquista. Much of the silver and gold mined during the colonial and post-colonial periods came from this part of the country.

Who says there’s no such thing as a free lunch? In fact, over at Gastronomika, a new Istanbul culinary project, the food is served not only free of charge but also with an intriguing – and ambitious – backstory

Misty, lush Fırtına Valley is worlds away from Istanbul’s concrete urban hustle. It’s a land of cascading waterfalls, rushing rivers, wild edibles and precipitous hillsides covered with glossy tea bushes. We came to escape Istanbul’s infamous August heat and learn about the region’s special foods. After a week, we had stomped our way through bagpipe-fueled celebratory circle dances and eaten our weight in fried trout and cornbread.

It’s a dirty secret nobody wants to talk about, but let’s put it out there: finding a good cup of Turkish coffee in Turkey can sometimes be very difficult. Thin and watery, rather than thick and viscous, is frequently the order of the day. This is no small matter, akin to complaining about the quality of the French toast in France or about finding stale danishes in Denmark. Turkey, after all, is the land that, during Ottoman times, helped introduce coffee to the rest of Europe. When it comes to making Turkish coffee, Turkey needs to represent.

On recent visits to Madrid, we’ve noticed that a new breed of food market has taken hold of the city’s attention. While the traditional kind with food stalls slowly disappears, vibrant, culture-focused gastromarkets are booming. In addition to great food, they offer a mix of businesses, along with cooking demos, live music, exhibitions – the list goes on. In 2009, the private society El Gastródomo de San Miguel refurbished a beautiful building that was built in 1916 and located very close to Plaza Mayor. It was opened as the “culinary space” Mercado de San Miguel. Though the initial inspiration was Barcelona’s La Boquería, San Miguel is utterly different, with its own colorful, unique personality. The market is dedicated not just to selling quality seasonal foods, but also to allowing visitors to enjoy them in situ, at tables and chairs distributed throughout common areas. They can choose from cod, fresh shellfish and other seafood, various vermuts, pickles and olives, paella, churros, Spanish wines, international beers, delicious Iberian ham and cured sausages and cheeses, ice cream and non-Spanish items, such as pasta or sushi. Unsurprisingly, the concept has been a hit, and other similarly styled markets have since popped up around the city.

In just a few hours, Germany will play Brazil in a World Cup semi-final match, but the outcome doesn’t matter. Win or lose, Germany has already conquered this nation – gastronomically speaking, at least. This isn’t fancy gastronomy, of course (leave that to the French!), but the simple, hearty, delicious food that the best Brazilian German bars serve all over the country, especially in Rio. German bars have been beloved institutions in Rio for a very long time. The most famous ones have been around since before World War II, when Rio was the capital of the country and the federal government was flirting with German's National Socialist Party. By 1939, Rio had a dozen German bars.

If it’s because of showing visitors around or simply a desire to get away from the city for the day, we can usually count on at least one visit a summer to Büyükada, the largest of the Princes’ Islands. But as much as we like looking at the car-free island’s Victorian mansions and visiting its quiet, forested backside, when it comes time to eat on Büyükada, we feel like we’re stuck inside an airport, forced to eat mediocre food at outrageous prices. (Although we very much like the food at Kıyı, a seaside restaurant on the island that we’ve previously recommended, even a casual dinner there ends up costing more than what one would like.)

In Mexico, magic is all around us. It’s in the architecture, history, way of life – and, of course, the food. The country’s Ministry of Tourism is no stranger to this magic, and in fact, fully grasping its economic possibilities, it created the Pueblos Mágicos program in 2001 to recognize villages that are unique and historically significant. There are now 80 such pueblos mágicos across the country, and one of our favorites is just a short drive away from Mexico City.

Trabzon doesn’t face the sea so much as fall into it like it’s hugging an old friend. The weight of dozens of mountains and just as many rivers pushes the city into the Black Sea, and the blue-collar port and ribbons of highways get the region’s bounties out of the city seemingly while the bread is still warm. Due to the massive out-migration that the region has undergone since the 1980s, countless pide shops and lokantas promising Karadeniz (“Black Sea”) recipes can be found in Istanbul, and some of them are quite good. But with food as simple and unique as what’s found in the Turkish Black Sea coast, it’s not the recipes that pack a punch so much as the ingredients. The freshest and weirdest are found in Trabzon and its environs and are as good an excuse to up and live in Trabzon as the mountains and the music.

Spata (pop. 10,000) lies just 20 km east of Athens and is probably best known as the location of Athens International Airport. But the town is more than just a gateway into and out of the region – especially at the end of June. That’s when Spata hosts a festival to honor St. Peter and St. Paul, the official protectors of the city. The highlight of the festival comes at the end of the last day, June 30, with a glorious communal meal: Enormous quantities of braised beef that have been cooked for 12 hours over a wood fire are served to all the citizens of Spata and visitors to the town.

Charming and surprising, Fehmi Özsüt has an easy, no-worries smile that belies a life full of unbelievable stories and intense work. Every day, even on weekends, he wakes up at 3 a.m. in order to run his kaymak business. A quivery clotted cream made from water buffalo milk, kaymak is served with honey and bread for a rich and filling breakfast. Since 1915, Özsüt’s family of Albanian immigrants has run the Karaköy Özsüt muhallebici, or milk pudding shop. Now he is carrying the torch and managing a small water buffalo farm to supply the main ingredient for the shop’s traditional desserts.