“It’s good for tourists, not for us.” While this can sadly be said about many things, Anabela, the woman we are speaking to, is referring to the transformation of Mercado da Ribeira, Lisbon’s historic public market, where she co-runs a small grocery store. Originally built as a predominantly wholesale food, fish and flower market in 1771, Ribeira today shares its space with Mercado Time Out, financed by the venture capital firm that controls the publishing franchise in Portugal, which has occupied the central section of the market since 2014. Time Out’s concept: an “editorially” curated gourmet food hall. Selling the best of Portugal – from croquettes and custard tarts to seafood and steak – it is now a top attraction, with 24 restaurants, eight bars, a dozen shops and a high-end music venue.

The year was 2001, and we were squeezed around an enormous table, together with a half dozen men in their late fifties, in a small conference room at a Soviet-era tobacco collective in Lagodekhi, near the Azerbaijan border. The director of the collective casually slipped a biography of Joseph Stalin under the table and told us the story of the farm, although we weren’t really interested. Our local host had hijacked us into the meeting, believing we could give these gentlemen sound business advice simply because we were westerners. “Our tobacco is natural, no chemicals,” the director asserted. “Yes,” another man interjected with a grin, “we have no money for chemicals.” The men all chuckled.

Hit by a devastating earthquake in September, Mexico City has certainly faced some challenges this past year. But life in the city marches on, and adventurous foodies can still find a great meal simply by following their nose. Our DF correspondents did just that in 2017, rediscovering some old favorites and branching out into unchartered territory. Mercado Jamaica By far my favorite food experience of this year was exploring Jamaica Market. Mostly known for its wholesale flower section, this large market offers much more: fresh produce, colorful piñatas, and incredible food. In fact, it is home to three of my favorite food stands in the city.

Mexico City’s Mercado Jamaica, a jumble of produce vendors and flower sellers, is not a place you would expect to find a gourmet establishment in. But this is what makes this public market so appealing: Hidden away among the various vendors in this massive market are several outstanding food spots, ranging in size and scope from a nondescript green chorizo taquería to a fine-dining seafood spot. Mariscos El Paisa didn’t start out as a “gourmet” restaurant when it first opened back in 1958 – like many other market establishments, it was humble and unpretentious. But in recent years, the kitchen has upped its game, putting out elevated seafood dishes (although the restaurant still retains an unpretentious vibe).

It’s no surprise that La Central de Abasto, Mexico City’s expansive wholesale market and the largest such market in the world, is constantly in motion. From the carretilleros, employees who move produce on dollies and whistle to signal that they’re passing through, to the steady stream of customers, the market pulses with energy. It’s a Friday afternoon when Diana Ávila, a programs director at the market, tours us around. As we pass neatly stacked piles of fruit and a banda playing in one of the hallways, she explains how this is the epicenter of Mexico’s food industry, a place where culture, food and community connect.

As soon as you enter Mercado Jamaica, one of Mexico City’s largest markets, you will quickly see (and smell) its main trade: flowers. Down the long aisles, hundreds of sellers line up colorful flowers that come from Xochimilco and other states. Visiting the market truly engages all the senses. But, you may ask, how does this include taste? Well, Jamaica Market happens to be home to several outstanding food vendors, among them one of our favorite taco stands in all of Mexico City. Hidden away among the market’s produce vendors, this stand doesn’t have a sign, and you can easily miss it if you don’t know what you’re looking for. Once you find it, though, you’ll keep coming back for their superb green chorizo tacos.

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.

His name is Pasquale De Stefano, but everyone knows him as Pasquale ‘o nummararo, “the number man.” In this era of plotters and laser printers, De Stefano continues to hand-paint his signs, using ancient paintbrushes on wooden boards, which are then planted in the baskets of all Neapolitan fruit sellers. And even the wooden signposts are still cut by hand. In 65 years of work he has by now created tens of thousands of signs advertising the prices of apples (€0.99) or peaches (3 kg for €2). They can be small or large, on canvas or on wood, promising a “special offer” or “great value.” Sometimes Pasquale’s signs will feature a more pointed message: “Whoever touches the fruit will be touched by the fruit seller,” is one that comes to mind.

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.

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.

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.

When you’re in the capital of Sichuan province, snacking is a way of life. Noodles made of bracken, wheat, chickpeas, mung beans and more, as well as tofu puddings and dumplings, make up the city’s “small eats” (小吃, xiǎochī) scene, served from what’s colloquially known as “fly restaurants.” A step above street food, these family-owned eateries are so called because they attract diners like flies, despite what might seem like a less-than-hygienic atmosphere, because the food is too good to miss. Find a hole-in-the-wall that has more diners than stools, and order one of these local specialties for a delicious meal.

Dear Culinary Backstreets, I keep hearing buzz about “yangmei” season in Shanghai. What’s all the fuss about this fruit? What’s in a name? Shakespeare could just as easily have written, “A yángméi (杨梅) by any other name would taste as sweet.” This little red Asian fruit has a plethora of monikers: Myrica rubra, Chinese bayberry, yamamomo, Japanese bayberry, red bayberry and waxberry. But a decade ago, the sweet and sour fruit was rebranded as the yumberry in the United States (where it is sold in juice and powder form, but not fresh, due to an import ban on the live fruit) to stand out from other exotic “superfoods.”

Glória is a crossroads of Rio de Janeiro. It’s where the beach and bayside South Zone end before you hit the historical and commercial Centro. It’s home to the storied, luxurious Hotel Glória and the working-class favela Santo Amaro, a five-minute jog away through lines of rifle-armed soldiers meant to keep crack users at bay. There’s the state archdiocese by day, and by night, a red-light zone for legally operating transvestite prostitutes. It comes as no surprise then that Glória’s weekly feira is one of the city’s most authentic and most colorful street markets. Like the vendors on foot on Rio’s beaches, would-be restauranteurs experiment at the feira before spreading their wings on the wider urban gastronomical scene.