Something special happens when the sun goes down. Night markets, whether in Southeast Asia or in the heart of Queens, inspire a thrill — we call it a sense of wonder — that brings boundless childhood summers to mind. We still feel it, on warm-weather Saturdays, when we ride the elevated 7 train to the Queens International Night Market. (It's a pain to park anything bigger than a bicycle near the market; we always take public transportation.) Many of the other passengers seem to be headed our way. Surrounded by fellow pilgrims, our anticipation builds as we descend from the train platform and march south. As we near the market grounds, and as the wind freshens and comes about, perhaps we catch the scent of sizzling meat.

Inside Barcelona’s lesser-known Mercat de Les Corts is a small, unassuming bar offering up the bounty of the Mediterranean. El Bisaura opens up shop at 6:30 a.m., serving esmorzars de forquilla (hearty Catalan breakfasts like sausage and beans, tripe stew and grilled cuttlefish) to local workers. At lunch, it serves a more refined seafood menu composed of whatever owner Alfonso Puig gets from Peixateria Anna, the fish stand on the other side of the market. The fish and seafood of the day are always seasonal, local and impeccably fresh – which is no surprise, since Puig is also the owner of the fish stand.

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.

Mexico City can be quite lacking when it comes to finding fresh, tasty seafood. At most markets in the city, in addition to the taco places and tlacoyo vendors, there is usually some kind of stand selling seafood, but the quality can be either very good or very bad. Buying from the right place is thus essential, and that’s why we were so happy to discover La Morenita, a standout seafood and oyster restaurant in Colonia Roma’s Mercado Medellín. Established more than three decades ago by Miguel Gardono, La Morenita has become a busy, reliable stop for shoppers.

To call San Miguel de Allende mind-blowingly picturesque is no hyperbole. Cobblestone streets and colonial facades enchant and inspire romantic notions from even the greatest cynic. Called by some “Mexico’s Disneyland for adults,” it’s a coveted destination for lavish fairytale weddings and romantic getaways and for expats and snowbirds to pass the time under azure skies in its dry, temperate climate. The historic center is peppered with fine-dining restaurants, stylish eateries, hipster pop-ups and cafés with picture-perfect open-air terraces. Its weekly farmers’ market rivals those of the “foodiest” towns in the US. So what about the “real” San Miguel?

For the last few months we’ve been obsessed with finding the best tacos de guisado in Mexico City. This is not an easy task because these types of tacos are abundant in a city where people are always on the lookout for inexpensive and fast eats. We have tried some amazing tacos de guisado throughout the years, but we keep finding new and delicious places in a city that never fails to impress us. A few months ago we started going to the Saturday Sullivan market for just one reason: eating breakfast at Los Barriles, a booth that sells between eight and 10 different types of tacos de guisado – usually ready-made stews served atop a tortilla – at a time.

Despite the 1970s-era sign outside that says Granja (farm) and the red letters spelling “Bar” inside, you can’t really tell what this place is until you open the menu: a temple of “neighborhood haute-cuisine.” The food at Granja Elena sounds simple but tastes rich and complex. The restaurant is a family business, now run by the third generation – Borja, Patricia and Guillermo Sierra Calvo – in the same barrio in which it was founded in 1974, La Marina del Port. This modern neighborhood is part residential and part industrial, a bit far from Barcelona’s center, located near the merchant port behind Montjuic and on the way to the airport.

Let’s say you have only two or three days in Rio. You want to experience a little real Brazilian culture and don’t want to restrict yourself to the obvious tourist stops, overhyped bars and restaurants or usual “gringo” nightlife spots. Our recommendation? Spend a night or day – or both, even – at Feira de São Cristóvão. The feira, which means “fair,” is organized by people from the northeast (nordeste), which is the poorest region in the country. That poverty has led millions of northeasterners to migrate to Rio over the last 50 years to seek a better life. And Feira de São Cristóvão is where they express themselves culturally, musically and, last but not least, gastronomically.