Cauliflower shawarma, lentil arayes and a killer sabich – Amit Sidi is cooking some of the best vegan food in town at B’Ivrit, her Israeli street food pop-up. Amit is not vegan. She’s not a trained chef either. But she rolls up to bars around northeast LA – and Smorgasburg every Sunday – offering an impressive lineup of dishes, both creative and classic. It almost didn’t happen at all. Amit grew up in Israel, and after she moved to LA she spent most of the next 15 years working in Hollywood, as a producer and in the costume department. She liked that world – especially costumes – but, as she puts it, “it’s mentally very draining… and there are a lot of angry people.”

A few blocks from the fragrant street stands of Noailles, another multicultural bazaar unfolds indoors. An aproned man fries up falafel balls to stuff into sandwiches. At a wooden cart besides him, a girl pushes sugar cane into a whirring juicer that pours out the sweet nectar in a glass. Down the hallway, two women finger bolts of colorful Egyptian fabric and glittering ribbons. The Souk de Nour d’Egypte is a feast for the senses. Every inch of the soaring space is filled with something delicious or decorative. In the front half, wooden carts brim with spices, ice cream and other foodstuffs, leading to a long counter laden with baked goods, cooked dishes and a medley of salads.

For Marina Liaki, Greece had long been a holiday destination, a place to visit family, soak in the sun and practice her Greek. So it was a shock when Marina, who is half-French, half-Greek and grew up in Paris, volunteered at a temporary refugee camp in the port of Piraeus in late 2015. The Syrian war was at its peak, and large numbers of refugees where coming over by sea every day. “It was so strange seeing the port of Athens, which I had always connected to careless summer holidays, in such a state,” she recalls. It was there, in January 2016, that Marina met Hasan Hmeidan, another volunteer who was originally from Syria but had moved to Greece with his family when he was five years old.

Perhaps nowhere else is it clearer that as many as one million Syrians have settled down in Istanbul than in the city’s historic Fatih district. The neighborhood is home to the city’s immigration headquarters (Fatih Emniyet), and the backstreets leading up to it are among the most transformed, since Syrians and other new arrivals end up spending hours there, often taking multiple trips to the office to get their paperwork in order. A stroll down the area’s Aksemsettin Caddesi reveals a dwindling number of Turkish markets and a rising number of Syrian ones, a collection of Syrian fast food joints, one Yemeni establishment and one eatery that transports its patrons through time and space, serving up dishes that in the past rarely made an appearance outside of the Syrian home kitchen.

Editor’s note: Tara Milutis, an American filmmaker based in Istanbul, shares the inspiration behind her new short film “Meet Me in Yusufpaşa,” which tells the story of Istanbul’s Yusufpaşa neighborhood, where food knits communities together and expresses the experience of migration and assimilation. When I first visited Istanbul in the spring of 2016, I was warned against going to areas in the Fatih district that were away from standard tourist paths. “Fatih is dangerous” and “That’s where ISIS fighters stay when they’re coming through Turkey” were some of the remarks I heard when expressing my interest in exploring this part of the city.

“We want to show people what Greek cuisine is really like. It’s not just souvlaki, gyros and moussaka. So in July and August when we’re closed, we travel all over the country looking for recipes, and because we love Greek wines too, we find recipes that go with them,” Xenophon says. We took a long time studying the menu – nibbling on their own olive bread – because even the dishes that sound familiar are not always what they appear to be. Take, for example, spanakopita (spinach pie). Here, it’s actually a salad. Moreover, their cheese dip, myttotos, made of three white cheeses plus black garlic, “goes back to the time of Hippocrates,” and the liver with apples, a combination we’ve never heard of, is a recipe from Karditsa in the northern Greek region of Thessaly.

At first bite, the flavors don’t seem that different. But then comes a rush of spice or an unfamiliar herbal note, and it’s clear that this isn’t standard Greek fare – in fact, it’s not Greek at all. It may serve a community of Greeks, but – as its name implies – the Association of Greeks from Egypt (SAE) specializes in Egyptian food. What began as a small canteen providing the familiar tastes of home for the association’s members has grown over the years into a popular local hangout, dishing up traditional Egyptian dishes to Athenians of all persuasions. Despite the long and storied history of Hellenistic culture, which stretches into antiquity, the modern state of Greece is relatively young, and like many nation states, its story is bound up in migration.

In Athens, apart from traditional or nouvelle Greek, you can find almost any kind of cuisine you crave, but usually not under one roof. Thanks to the influx of immigrants and diaspora Greeks in the past 20 years, the city’s roster of foreign restaurants is no longer confined to Italian, French and a sprinkling of swanky Asian and Indian places with white tablecloths.

Like many cultures with a strong national food culture, Athens has been slow to welcome foreign cuisines. First, there were the heady 1990s, when the first luxurious restaurants serving such food opened. That was followed by a decade of discovery, with the first mid-priced sushi and Indian restaurants appearing left, right and center. An enormous influx of immigrants from Pakistan, Bangladesh, Afghanistan and North Africa from the mid-2000s onwards brought pockets of Middle Eastern grocery stores and eateries to downtown Athens, Kypseli and Patisia. Just a few years ago, Athens’ Middle Eastern food scene was divided in two, with various mid-priced to expensive restaurants catering to Greeks and the Kurdish, Syrian, Iraqi and Afghan immigrants making delicious street food for their own communities (and a few adventurous Athenians).