In Greece, Epiphany is celebrated on January 6 (some eastern Orthodox churches celebrate it on January 19). To say it’s significant is an understatement: For eastern Christians like the Greeks, the day commemorates the baptism of Jesus in the River Jordan by John the Baptist, seen as his manifestation as the son of God. For western Christians, the celebration came to commemorate the visit of the Magi; as a result, the day is also called Three Kings’ Day, often shortened to Kings’ Day. Called Theofania (theos=god + faino=reveal) or commonly Ton Foton (Των Φώτων, which literally translates “Of the Lights”), the celebration revolves around the blessing of waters. The process begins on the day prior, January 5, which is called protagiasi or fotisi.

The presence of bread on the Greek Christmas table is rich with significance: It symbolizes hope for prosperity, an abundant harvest year and good health. The tradition of baking bread for a festive occasion, as well as its many symbolic meanings, can be traced back to ancient times, when many great Mediterranean civilizations associated the cycle of human life with the full life cycle of wheat. It was a belief that embedded deeply in Greek folk culture and has survived over the centuries, ultimately coming to occupy an important place in Christianity. Christopsomo (Christ’s Bread) is a type of traditional Christmas bread prepared all across Greece. The bread itself and the ceremonial nature of preparing it symbolize the prosperity of the household.

Outside brightly lit halal butchers, djellaba-clad women line up for lamb to make chorba stew. Tables heave with honey-soaked pâtisseries orientales, covered in plastic to protect them from flies. From fragrant bundles of mint to the mouthwatering smoke of rotisserie chicken, the tantalizing scents on the Rue Longue des Capucins are a sure-fire way to make you hungry. For those fasting for Ramadan, it is the ultimate test of self-control. The teeming stalls of foodstuffs give Noailles its nickname as the belly of Marseille. During Ramadan, the Marseille neighborhood fattens up. It is a mecca for ingredients and prepared food for iftar – the sundown meal that breaks the fast. “Noailles is as close to Morocco as I can get,” says Rachid Zerrouki, a teacher and journalist based in Marseille for years.

Sunday, April 19, was Easter in the Orthodox Christian world, the holiest day of the year. Like most people in today’s pandemic world, Maka Shengelia, one of our walk leaders in Tbilisi, was home being a responsible citizen. But she was also spreading butter on her own freshly baked paska, Easter bread, popular in the Eastern Church. It is a tall, dome-shaped cake, inseparable from Easter’s other “edible decoration,” boiled eggs dyed a deep magenta with endro (madder root). God will forgive you for celebrating Easter without going to church, but commemorating it without red eggs and paska is another matter entirely.

A famous Italian saying goes, “Christmas with yours and Easter with whomever you want.” Well, this year there wasn’t much of a choice: Easter was spent at home, with family. The lockdown in Italy has largely coincided with Lent (the 40 days leading up to Easter, from Ash Wednesday to Holy Saturday). Except that this year, our Lent will not end on Holy Saturday but looks to continue for a long time (at least until May 3). Jesus Christ rose again on Easter Sunday to fly to the heavens, but it would be enough for us to be able to leave the house.

Though half of France’s population is officially Catholic, only 5 percent of the country regularly attends mass. Yet, les français still remain faithful to their Christian holidays. After Christmas, Easter is the second-most popular fête – perhaps because it falls on a Sunday, when lunch en famille is a French tradition that is as revered as a religion. Like many nations, chocolate is France’s essential Easter ingredient. Not surprisingly, the French exception – the country’s belief that they are unique – extends to the shape of their holiday confections. Here, a cloche (bell), not a rabbit, delivers Easter’s chocolate-y treats. How did an inanimate object become the bearer of sweets?

In Spain, preserving the rituals of Lent – historically a period of 40 days of prayer, penance and pious abstinence from eating meat that leads up to Easter – was up until the second half of the 20th century mostly the responsibility of priests. Nowadays, however, it is more often the country’s chefs who are shaping the observance of Lent, by both maintaining and updating its delicious culinary traditions, which are still very much a part of Spain’s contemporary food culture. Each country where Lent was customarily practiced has its own special dishes in which meat is replaced with other protein-rich ingredients in order to fill the stomach. In Spain, the “king” of Lenten cuisine is cod (bacalao), introduced in the 16th century by Basque fishermen who had begun to catch it off the faraway coast of Newfoundland.

There’s a joy in staying in China’s big cities over the upcoming Lunar New Year (春节, chūnjié). As people start the “great migration” back to their ancestral hometowns to enjoy the annual reunion dinner (团圆饭, tuányuánfàn, or 年夜饭, nián yè fàn) with their family, Shanghai becomes a ghost town. Nearly every shop and restaurant closes up for at least a week (and sometimes more like three), as employees travel back to inland provinces like Anhui and Henan for a well-earned break and the chance to eat traditional, home-cooked meals with relatives. So long as you have a well-stocked fridge, the New Year is a peaceful time to explore the empty streets.

Holiday traditions in Greece, like so much in that country, are rooted in ancient Greek and Roman customs – pagan, of course – that evolved through Byzantine times and were adapted with the advent of Christianity. More recently, the westernization of Christmas and New Year celebrations has made those holidays here look more like the globalized version of them, for better or for worse. Greeks like preserving their old traditions, however, and some customs still persist, even if many Greeks don’t know where they came from. The Christmas season, known in Greece as Dodekaimero (twelve days), officially begins on December 24, includes the celebration for the New Year and ends on January 6 with the huge celebration of Theophania (the baptism of Jesus Christ by John the Baptist).

Over the course of June, Lisbon’s neighborhoods are perfumed with the smoke of barbecued sardines. It’s one of the most prominent features of the traditional arraiais, the festivals that pop in each neighborhood at this time of year, offering grilled fish and pork, beer and sangria, and music. While all this eating, drinking and making merry is certainly a fun time, it’s by no means the main event. For many Lisboetas the highlight of the June festivals, which are held in honor of Santo António, Lisbon’s favorite local saint, are the marchas (parades) on the night of June 12, the eve of Saint Anthony’s Day. It’s the moment they have been waiting and preparing for all year.

Located between the Atlantic Ocean and the Bay of Biscay, in the northwest corner of the Iberian Peninsula, Galicia is a large, wild cape that almost looks like a gigantic hand stretching out into the sea, hemmed in by the beautiful estuaries of the Rías Baixas to the south and the Rías Altas to the north. Given this location, the region has long been renowned as a fishing and agriculture center (although it’s best known internationally as the site of the Camino de Santiago, or the Way of Saint James, an ancient pilgrimage route). Over the past few centuries, however, Galicia has been also been characterized by the migration of a good portion of its population to more prosperous cities and countries.

There was no wind and we were in the middle of the Black Sea on a bright summer day, puttering across the deep blue expanse in a chaika, a small wooden Cossack war ship that its Ukrainian sail-ors had equipped with a diesel motor. We were two days out from Yalta, and our captain, Myron, was looking eastward towards our destination of Batumi, his blue eyes glazed in a dreamy state of longing. “Ah, Georgia. Satsivi,” he sighed. “Satsivi,” he repeated sensually to Roman, the first mate, as if it were the name of a beckoning siren. “I cannot wait.” I was impressed he didn’t sob for khinkali and khachapuri like everyone else. But still, I had to quickly snuff out his reverie.

We said it last year, and we’ll say it again: we’re often not impressed with traditional holiday gift guides. They’re either littered with undisclosed affiliate links or seemingly endless lists (much like our holiday to-dos) that make us want to turn off the computer and hibernate until the end of January. With that in mind, we’ve brought back our gift guide, a highly-selective (and relatively short) list of products, some serious, others frivolous, that our correspondents and guides eat and use, made by people they know.

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.