It has the makings of a sitcom: two itinerant chefs, one Greek and the other Peruvian, meet in Portugal and decide to open up a restaurant devoted to their home countries’ cooking. Rather than pratfalls, though, we get Pita.gr, a charming restaurant where during the course of one meal we can feast on ceviche, fresh moussaka and tiropita (a Greek pastry made of phyllo dough, feta cheese, honey and sesame seeds), all at the same table. Having the chance to eat delicious food from both countries feels like a privilege in this corner of the Margem Sul (South Bank), half an hour’s drive from central Lisbon.

For a few weeks during June, large swathes of Lisbon turn into one extended outdoor cookout. It’s the festival of Santo António, Lisbon’s favorite local saint, and the city celebrates his memory by way of grilling up copious amounts of sardines, so much so that during this period the scent of sizzling fish rolls through the streets of the city’s historic neighborhoods like a bank of fishy fog. In these old-time neighborhoods, the festival also provides residents a chance to play caterer to the masses, with seemingly every local with a halfway decent charcoal grill setting up shop outside their home and grilling sardines for the revelers partying in the streets. The whole scene is a complete departure from the more staid rest of the year and it often feels as if these neighborhood grillers live for just this time, allowing them to play the role of guardians of Lisbon’s most important social tradition.

It’s Sunday morning at La Pignasecca market in Naples and time is in flux. Picture a Boccioni painting: movement is blurred, there is an inter-penetration of objects, speeding vehicles and sound – a frenetic moment in the Futurists’ imagination. The city rises as engines splutter, traders hustle, klaxons yelp. Santa Maria di Montesanto spews punters out into the marketplace after mass; men peel off, heading home to check on the simmering ragù; groomed teenagers peacock on mopeds as groups of women push in line to pick up their last-minute order of fresh pasta, charcuterie and squid. The church bells chime: it’s lunchtime. Anticipation is in the air.

From Rio to Venice, from Cologne to New Orleans and from Patras to towns all over Greece, Catholics and Orthodox (along with believers and nonbelievers of every description) celebrate Carnival – the three weeks preceding Lent – with parades, masquerades, pranks, Dionysian revels and Lucullan feasts focusing on roasted meats. After all, the word “carnival” is thought to have come from the Italian carne levare or “abstain from meat” – which is also the meaning of the Greek Apokreas – and heralded a time when many religions prohibited consuming flesh during the sacred fast before Easter.

One of Lisbon’s best views is just steps away from Largo da Graça in Saint Andre, one of the city’s seven hills. The famous overlook offers views of most of the city and even some of the Tejo river. Most days it’s filled with a mix of tourists making good use of their selfie sticks, wanderers minding their own business and street musicians busking for small change. But locals – or, at least, locals who like to eat well – prefer to hang out a few meters back, at one of the neighborhood’s iconic restaurants. O Pitéu da Graça could also be described as having an excellent view – but only if you like looking at fish. Yes, the thing to see here is the menu’s crowded fish section.

Inside the humble municipal market building of an elderly neighborhood between Belém’s touristic spectacles and the sprawling Monsanto park is the oldest Azorean restaurant in the Portuguese capital. In non-descript Ajuda, with a view over Ponte Abril 25, this place transports Lisboetas with tastes of the remote and alluring Atlantic archipelago. When Espaço Açores opened 10 years ago it was one of four restaurants in Lisbon serving the food of the Azores. The others have since closed, a fact that at first seems difficult to understand: food from these islands is incredibly good and more often than not reproduces traditional dishes from the mainland, albeit with considerably better ingredients.

Our Song of the Sea walk celebrates Lisbon's port and the old neigborhoods surrounding it. It also, of course, features prominently the stunningly fresh seafood that is served in the area.

The oldest city in Western Europe, once the hub of a trading empire that connected Macau in the east to Rio de Janeiro in the west, Lisbon today feels staunchly Old World European, a sleepy town of nostalgic storefronts and scenic churches. But that’s only its façade.

The oldest city in Western Europe, once the hub of a trading empire that connected Macau in the east to Rio de Janeiro in the west, Lisbon today feels staunchly Old World European, a sleepy town of nostalgic storefronts and scenic churches. But that’s only its façade.

Lisbon is still one of the best cities in Europe for fresh, unpretentious seafood dining, despite the onslaught of fads and newfound taste for speculative real estate. Eating mollusks here – as at a cervejaria-marisqueira, a sort of old-school beer and seafood house – is not at all associated with the luxury it symbolizes elsewhere. Here, it is normal to dig out the insides of unique, claw-like barnacles or suck the heads of the freshest prawns for a decent price in a genuine atmosphere. And in such restaurants, forget the lime tart or crème brûlée afterwards: the purist’s dessert after a shell-laden chowdown is a prego – a garlic-laced beef sandwich that couldn’t be fancy even if it tried.

With shops closing, pensions and salaries shrinking, and more and more Greeks feeling the pinch, it never ceases to amaze us that good food in the capital and elsewhere is still appreciated and faithful customers still abound. The restaurants below are just a few among the many wonderful, lively places that are managing to keep their standards despite enormous financial pressures. Their prices are affordable, their quality outstanding. Sea Satin Nino, Korthi Bay, Andros This is one of those restaurants that a Michelin Guide would rate not merely as “worth the trip” but “worth the detour.” Although it may take an hour’s drive from the port and half an hour from Hora, any meal at Sea Satin Nino is cause for celebration.

Despite being home to Lisbon’s most photographed street, Bica has maintained its close-knit-community feel, with encroaching internationalization still held at arm’s length from these bumpy cobbled lanes and steep stairways. The small residences here have generally been passed down through generations, meaning a steadfast family vibe where everyone’s laundry is, literally, there for all to see. Estrela da Bica is a cozy, rustic restaurant at the bottom of this tiny hill district that perhaps marked the first sign of middle-class interest here. Historically inhabited by fishing families, Bica is becoming increasingly touristy by day and, thanks to the several bars around, more of a hangout at night.

Some of the most unique and dramatic scenery in Greece can be found in Mani, a dry, wild region in the south-central part of the Peloponnesian peninsula. Bookended by the Messinian Gulf to the west and the Laconian gulf to the east, the area is a unique combination of stone, sun, sea and mountains. Here, in one of the most picturesque and untouched parts of Greece, you’ll find medieval villages, stone towers and fortresses, Byzantine churches, villages lost among olive groves, beautiful caves, rocky coasts and crystal blue waters. Until not too long ago, many of Mani’s villages were highly inaccessible; some could only be reached by sea. Locals are proud people with strong traditions and consider themselves direct descendants of the ancient Spartans.

Close to Jardim do Príncipe Real, the singular, beautiful park built in the 18th century above one of many underground cisterns of Lisbon’s public water system, is a cozy, rustic Portuguese eatery defying – while also benefiting from – the trends of its surroundings. Tascardoso is a typical tasca often frequented by tourists in the increasingly chic Principe Real neighbourhood, which tops one of the city’s seven hills and commands that soft Lisbon light until the last moment of the day. While fad food and French-owned business ventures abound, the restaurant’s popularity has risen with the booming interest in the area: it is especially difficult to get a table at Tascadorso for dinner.

Sardine season is a wild ride in Lisbon and it is finally coming to a close but we still have the cuttlefish, grilled in ink, at the dockside classic on our "Song of Sea" culinary walk in Lisbon.