On the diner intimidation scale, Shanghai’s Chenghuang Miao Tese Xiaochi – which can be loosely translated as “City God Temple Snack Shop” – ranks pretty high, with aggressive lunchtime crowds and nothing but Chinese character-laden menus for guidance. But the payoff, a baptism by fire in authentic Chinese eating, is worth it. The hungry masses that congregate here have discovered a simple truth: the food here is quick, tasty and cheap – a gastronaut’s holy trinity.

Dear Culinary Backstreets, We will be visiting Barcelona with our children. Do you have any good recommendations of places in the city to eat with kids?

Once a resort town on the outskirts of the Greek capital, Phaleron – only a few miles from downtown Athens – is now well incorporated into the city’s urban fabric. The area has remained an upscale neighborhood, but, sadly, it has lost its distinctive character: the sea is now polluted, the open-air cinemas have been turned into parking lots, and many of the stately mansions were demolished to make way for apartment blocks during the construction boom of the 1960s.

Lantern Festival (元宵, yuánxiāo, or “first night”) is the fifteenth day of the Chinese New Year, and marks the last day of Spring Festival. This “first night” is actually the first full moon of the lunar new year, and in the Year of the Snake it lands on February 24. On this holiday, it’s customary for revelers to light red lanterns and eat sweet stuffed dumplings called tāngyuán (汤圆).

To Petalo is probably the only place in Athens that offers a Sunday lunchtime buffet with homemade Greek food. It’s certainly the only all-you-can-eat brunch we know of that’s offered at the affordable price of €12, in a cozy yet slightly chaotic atmosphere that makes you feel like you’re eating in someone’s living room. And just as if you were at the house of a Greek friend, brunch at To Petalo is served in typically late fashion: Arrive before 2 p.m. and you’ll be waiting around for the food to be served.

While Athens’ more upscale neighborhoods have recently rediscovered the gastronomic joys – and, let’s face it, the economic sense – of eating souvlaki, this classic dish has never gone out of fashion in Athens’ downtown. The city’s longtime souvlaki venues may have changed little in the last 50 years, but there is something particularly satisfying about their old-fashioned, no-frills approach. With their clientele of seasoned fanatics, the best of the bunch offer a lesson in what it truly means to eat like an Athenian. (Keep in mind that the menus at these old-school souvlaki places have remained virtually unchanged for decades, meaning that there is no chicken served, only the traditional pork or “kebab” – usually made with a mixture of minced veal, lamb and sometimes pork – in variations described in our Athenian souvlaki primer.)

With a menu from the frigid provinces that border Korea, Dongbei Siji Jiaozi Wang – literally, “The Four Season Dumpling King from the Northeast” – is all about hearty dishes to warm you up from the inside out. The further north you head from the Yangtze River, the more the temperate climate demands that wheat trumps rice as the staple grain, often showing up on menus as dumplings and noodles. Yet despite its eponymous claim to represent China’s Northeast, not even the Dumpling King can escape Shanghai’s astringent influence, specifically in the condiment selection. Here you dunk your boiled dumplings in vinegar and sweet chili pepper rather than the typical Northern garnish that adds soy sauce to the mix (or sometimes boldly goes it alone with no vinegar), occasionally coupled with roughly chopped garlic.

Thwap. Thwap. Thwap. “Do you hear that?” asked Sean Roberts, an expert on Uighur culture and politics and our dining companion for the day. “They’re making the lagman.”

Colibri constitutes something of an Athenian phenomenon: what started out as a small neighborhood pizza and burger takeout place in Mets, next to Athens’ grand First Cemetery, has now evolved into three successful restaurants where people actually queue for more than half an hour to eat homemade pizzas and burgers. The menu is the same in all three places, offering simple comfort food at decent prices.

In a desk drawer at Istanbul Eats HQ is an envelope of leftovers from days when life was less sedentary: Tajik somoni, Kyrgyz som, Cypriot pounds, a wad of Macedonian denar and a small stack of Georgian lari. As with the last bite on the plate, it’s impossible to throw money away, no matter how unstable the currency. But the real value of having it on hand is that it makes a return visit seem likely, even pending. Our plans to return to Georgia were made, cancelled, rescheduled and cancelled again. It would seem our lari would never be much more than a filthy little memento, an IOU from the National Bank of Georgia for a khachapuri that would never be cashed in.

The so-called “ethnic” cuisines – from Middle Eastern and Indian to Chinese and Japanese – came to Athens relatively late, in the mid-1980s, and were a costly affair. Athens’ first “exotic” restaurant, the Kona Kai in the Athens Ledra Mariott Hotel, opened its doors in 1984 and was one of the city’s most fashionable, high-class restaurants for years, serving Polynesian cuisine. It remains untouched, at least in terms of décor: the venue is a glorious extravaganza of bamboo and waterfalls!

Peynir means cheese in Turkish and peinirli (derived from the Turkish word peynirli, meaning “with cheese”) is a delicacy adored by pretty much everyone in Greece that strongly resembles the Turkish pide. It is a boat-shaped bread that is high in yeast and butter, with a buttery, cheesy filling.

Housed in a bright pink neoclassical-style building on bustling Praxitelous Street (a road full of shops selling electrical equipment, wholesale beads and jewelry supplies), Doris has been around since 1900. It’s a traditional Athenian eatery known as a mageireio, which roughly means “cooking house” or “eating place.”

Any Shanghai denizen who has lived in the city for longer than a few months worships at the altar of xiǎolóngbāo (小笼包). These steamed buns of goodness – tiny pork dumplings with a slurp of soup wrapped up in a wonton wrapper – provide delicious fodder for debates among Shanghai’s fiercest foodies.