Descend the steps of Discesa del Caracciolo, leaving Via Roma behind, and you will find yourself in the heart of Palermo’s old Vucciria market, a micro-universe unto itself in which nostalgia hovers in the air and in the eyes of the locals. Typical Sicilian fatalism translates into the saying: “When the balàte of the Vucciria dry out.” The balàte are the typical stones that make up the floor on which the market stands: legend has it that – precisely because of the presence of merchants of all kinds who wash their workbenches at the end of each day – the floor of the Vucciria never fully dries.

It’s not an exaggeration to say that Lisbon’s fresh markets are disappearing. The Greater Lisbon area is home to 28 market spaces, yet only ten of these witness any significant commercial activity. As the city’s shoppers increasingly shift to supermarkets, its traditional markets have had to find new ways to remain relevant. In an effort to do this, some Lisbon markets have opted to transform part of their spaces into food courts – a phenomenon sometimes called the “Time Out effect,” after the high-profile market of the same name. It’s been a decade since the first of these relaunches, so we decided to visit the three Lisbon markets that have adopted it. What we witnessed showed a model that in one case seems to benefit both the traditional market and food court sides alike, while in the other cases, appears more lopsided.

On Crete, endowed with fertile soil and an enviable climate, devotion to the island’s culinary traditions runs deep. This is even the case for people who have family ties to Crete but did not live there themselves, like Dimitris Katakis, who runs To Mitato tou Psiloriti, a small Cretan deli in Athens. In 1950 his grandparents left Crete, despite their great love for their native island, to go to Athens for better job opportunities – the postwar era saw many Greeks move to cities or even abroad in search of a better life. Yet the flavors and traditions of Crete, one of the southernmost points in Europe and the largest island in Greece, stayed with them and were lovingly passed on to their children and grandchildren.

Lisbon, it could be said, is a tough city for fresh markets. The Greater Lisbon area is home to 28 market spaces, yet only ten of these currently witness any significant commercial activity. And among these ten, many have seen immense changes, with Mercado da Ribeira, Mercado Campo de Ourique and Mercado de Algés essentially operating more as food courts rather than fresh markets. Mercado 31 de Janeiro, in Lisbon’s Saldanha neighborhood, has also seen its share of changes in its near century of existence that spans various incarnations. But it stubbornly remains a relevant marketplace for Lisbon shoppers.

Walking among the stalls of Mercado Coyoacán is as exhilarating as it is slightly overwhelming: mountains of fresh fruit, rows of piñatas hanging from the ceiling, chocolate-covered scorpions, and mystical candles that promise to bring love and fortune all coexist in this sprawling space. The familiar phrase, “¿Qué va a llevar?” (What are you buying?) echoes down each aisle, but as tempting as it is to bite into a creamy slice of mamey – a sweet, orange-fleshed fruit that has plenty of fans in Mexico – we are here with one mission: to eat our weight in tostadas. The market is in the heart of Coyoacán, one of Mexico City’s most whimsical neighborhoods. With cobblestone streets, coffee shops, art galleries, and boutiques, it’s especially popular for weekend visits.

Someone once said that humanitarian workers are like mercenaries, missionaries or madmen. It is a description we have also applied to expats who end up in far-flung places like Georgia. Like the foreigner out in the secluded Kakhetian village of Argokhi, between the Alazani River and the Caucasus Mountains, who has forged his life growing a nearly extinct variety of native wheat and baking it into bread; but he is no madman. He’s a Frenchman. We had first heard about Jean-Jacques Jacob some years ago while visiting the Alaverdi Monastery in Kakheti, when a friend pointed north of the giant cathedral and told us of a Frenchman who had started a farm in the middle of nowhere.

Back in 1972 when Marsicos Romulo’s opened at the Mercado 1 de Diciembre, a neighborhood market in Mexico City´s Colonia Narvarte, it was just a small seafood joint surrounded by fruit and vegetable stands. What started as a tiny bar with only three chairs soon became known for its fresh ingredients and abundance of dishes. Eventually, Romulo’s acquired the adjacent premises and a couple more stands just in front of the original, meaning a bigger kitchen and some tables for his customers. Ten years later, Romulo’s opened a full brick-and-mortar restaurant just one block away at Calle Uxmal 52, with the same name and food on offer. Even then, the original location in the market just kept growing.

Hermós Bar de Peix is the new fish bar by Alexis Peñalver, owner of our longtime Gràcia neighborhood favorites La Pubilla and its tapas-focused little sibling Extra Bar. It might sound a little self-flattering, but the bar’s name (which means “Beautiful” in Catalán) is, in fact, a powerful local symbol. Hermós is the ironic nickname of the homely, humble fisherman of the book El Quadern Gris by the famous Catalan journalist and food writer Josep Pla. Hailing from L’Empordà on the northern Catalan coast, the character’s only relief for the pains of life are the suquets the peix – fish stews. Hermós the bar is a tribute to the magnificence of the Catalan fishing tradition, celebrated here with fire, casseroles and bottles of wine in a little bar inside La Llibertat Market, right next to its fishmonger.

At the cusp of winter’s end, men across Georgia balance on wobbly ladders and trim their grapevines. The clippings will be used later for baking bread in traditional tone ovens and for roasting mtsvadi, skewered chunks of pork, on the embers. Only after the trimming is completed throughout the land is springtime allowed to arrive. And when it comes, it does so in teasing bursts of bold flavors, juicy colors and luscious aromas. The first indication of spring is the arrival of tarkhuna – tarragon – at the central bazaar, where we love to shop for produce.

We savor things a little differently in New Orleans. The city itself has been in a constant existential crisis from its inception. Tattered by hurricanes, floods, and land loss due to climate change, we realize how precarious and precious life is. Our famous joie de vivre is rooted in this – we know it can all be gone tomorrow. So we might linger over a meal a little longer, or have one more drink, or stay for the second set even when we have an early day at work. In crawfish terms, we suck the heads and pinch the tails and make sure we get all the meat out of life.

As amazing as Lisbon’s food and drink scene is, many of its markets are underwhelming. The sad truth is that it’s necessary to head outside of the capital to witness spaces that showcase the real bounty of Portugal’s fields, orchards, vineyards, farms and waters. The recently-renovated Mercado do Bolhão, in Porto, is one such place. Or the expansive, seafood-forward Mercado de Olhão, in the country’s far south. From Lisbon, visits to either of these would involve time-consuming trips, but thankfully, one of the country’s best markets is located an hour south of the city. 

It took four years and four months, but Mercado do Bolhão, Porto’s central market and historic icon, finally came back to life in September. The first to arrive at the reopening was Nossa Senhora da Conceição, the market’s patron saint, whose image was installed in front of the new structures that are now part of the centenarian building. Located at the entrance to the grand market, which measures more than five thousand square meters, the saint's image welcomes the visitors who have filled the new space every day since the doors finally opened.

Visiting the Jamaica plant and flower market is one of our favorite activities in Mexico City; we love getting lost in its green alleys and never fail to emerge with at least one new plant and a beautiful bouquet of flowers. And of course, we’re always on the lookout for new places to eat. Our favorite barbacoa joint is in this market, but when we want a different experience we head to the huarache alley, where several stalls offer this tasty Mexican specialty.

Oaxaca has become one of our favorite food destinations in Mexico. A few weeks ago we visited the city again, but this time it wasn’t the moles or the decadent regional food that caught our attention, but an organic market where we had a delicious breakfast one morning. El Pochote (named after a thorny, flowering tree native to Central America) is an organization of local organic producers that was founded in November 2003 by local artist Francisco Toledo. Making an omelet at Mamá Lechuga, photo by Ben HerreraThe market offers all kinds of products, from vegetables and fruits to prepared meals and juices. The main objective of the market is to support those who grow or make healthy products of excellent quality, who interact with the natural environment in a way that respects local ecosystems and who maintain and increase the fertility of the soil and land.