Turkey’s rich regional food culture reflects its diverse landscapes: seafood, olive oil and wild greens along the Aegean Sea; wheat- and meat-heavy dishes in the country’s heartland; corn, collards and anchovies on the rugged Black Sea coast. But with climate change altering the environments that produced those ingredients, what will happen to the dishes they inspired? Will the way people in Turkey eat have to change too? And if so, how? Those are the kinds of questions posed by CLIMAVORE: Seasons Made to Drift, a thought-provoking exhibition on display at Istanbul’s SALT Beyoğlu cultural center on İstiklal Caddesi until August 22.

Like Greek Easter, the Monday after Carnival Sunday is a moveable holiday – this year it falls on March 15. Known as Kathara Deftera (Καθαρά Δευτέρα), which translates as “Clean Monday,” this day marks the official commencement of the forty days of fasting before Easter, called Sarakosti (Σαρακοστή) in Greece but more generally known as Lent. (Clean Monday is celebrated exactly 48 days before Easter Sunday.) This Christian celebration is traced back to the Byzantine period. The day was named Kathara Deftera because it was (and still is) a time for cleansing, both of body and soul. It also calls for literal cleaning: For example, on the morning of Clean Monday, people traditionally washed their pots and pans using hot ash water and dyed their pavements white, practices that are less common nowadays.

A former industrial center, eastern Lisbon has gained a new vibrancy of late, with old factories and decrepit warehouses made over into art galleries, restaurants and breweries. Not even the pandemic has been able to stop this development: A Praça, a marketplace connecting Lisboetas with producers from around the country, has recently set up shop in an old meat-processing plant and civil personnel canteen in the former Manutenção Militar, the industrial area of the Portuguese Army that’s now home to Hub Criativo do Beato. The project is set to open to the public later in the year but is already up and running digitally, offering many products, including fresh produce from local farmers, artisanal smoked sausages, wine, cheese and olive oil, for takeaway and delivery.

A part of the Allium family, which also includes onions and garlic, leeks (prasa, πράσα, in Greek) are native to the Middle East and the eastern Mediterranean region. The hardy crop has been widely used since at least the second millennium B.C., first by the ancient Egyptians and Mesopotamians and later by the Greeks and the Romans, who spread it across Europe. Nutrient dense, leeks are rich in vitamins and minerals. The ancient Greek physician Hippocrates recommended the vegetable for the proper functioning of the urinary system and as a treatment for excessive swelling (it had additional medicinal uses in ancient times, including as a remedy to strengthen the throat and voice).

Spain, Italy, Greece, Turkey, Portugal, Morocco, Tunisia – one thing that unites this swathe of the Mediterranean is olive oil, whose use in the Fertile Crescent can be traced back to 6000 B.C.E. Olives arrived in the southern part of the Iberian Peninsula around 9th century B.C.E. with the Phoenicians. Ancient Rome saw huge quantities of olive oil from Hispania Baetica (currently Andalucía) being transported throughout the Roman Empire in millions of amphorae (made in Baetica). Spain leads production of olive oil to this day, with 45 percent of the global total. The majority (65 percent) of Spanish olive oil production is sold to Italy, where this oil is mixed with others (normally of the same quality, but not always) and sold under an Italian label.

Since the coronavirus crisis began in France, our computer and TV screens have been with barraged with public health missives. The Alerte France ads feature a four-pronged plan to “protect yourself and others.” The first step, “wash your hands very often,” has made good old-fashioned soap the best anti-viral weapon – especially due to the drought of antibacterial gel. Consequently, the emblematic savon de Marseille – an olive-oil based soap that makes use of Provence’s green gold – is more popular than ever, turning the city’s savonneries into unintentional ambassadors of public health. One of them, Savonnerie Fer à Cheval, has been particularly prepared for the role.

The rain makes it feel like November, when the majority of Spain’s olive oil producers begin the harvest to make extra virgin olive oil. Yet it’s October, and we’re watching the gathering of Arbequina olives in Belianes, very close to the city of Lleida in central Catalonia. These beauties are mostly green, with a few already changing to purple. Jose Ramón Morera, one of the owners of the small company Camins de Verdor, is finishing the harvest of these green olives for Umami, their premium line of olive oil. An absorbing deep green color, the organic extra virgin olive oil is intensely aromatic and fruity, made from early harvested oils that are mechanically pressed using a traditional cold extraction method.

As the car crested a craggy hill, the first rays of golden sun peaked over the horizon, painting distant clouds the color of red wine. Tufts of gnarled olive trees and rows of grapes whizzed by the window as we approached the farm, outrunning the quickly approaching sun. We left Thessaloniki at 5:30 a.m. to beat the Greek summer’s heat, something of concern for both workers – and oregano plants, our destination’s star crop. Michalis and Anastasia, owners of Aetheleon, were prepared for the day’s harvest. With every rising degree, minuscule droplets of moisture and essential oils seep from the oregano in an attempt to cool them down. The plants’ sweat-like response can be easily smelled, the aromatic wafts upon the breeze a prelude to the frenzied buzzing of hordes of happy bees following the fragrant trail.

Late October marks the start of the olive picking season throughout Greece. From Thrace to Crete, from Corfu to Lesvos, and even in the suburbs of Athens, landowners lucky enough to have olive trees will start harvesting their fruit. And the harvest may continue for another six months. On Crete, for example, where neat rows of low trees cover vast areas, civil servants are given leave to collect their olives in January and February. On Corfu, on the other hand, where the giant trees are too tall for easy harvesting, the common practice is to spread black nets underneath them and wait for the fruit to drop. They collect it once a month until late spring.

In Greece, where the land is mostly rocky and steep and the climate hot and arid, the olive tree thrives, and for millennia, olive oil has been as essential to Greek cooking as the gnarled, silver-leaved trees have been to its landscape. Greece is the third largest producer of olive oil in the world after Spain and Italy and the greatest in consumption per capita. Used liberally as a cooking fat for all manner of ingredients and preparations, as well as in its raw state to dress or flavor dishes, olive oil also plays an influential role in Greek baking, such as in koulourakia, twisted or coiled cookies, and paximadia, the twice-baked rusks that come savory or sweet.

In the southwestern part of Catalonia, in the province of Lleida, lies Les Garrigues, where the gray-green foliage of compact Arbequina olive trees stretches across some 20,000 hectares of the soft, dry landscape. This is where one of Spain’s best extra-virgin olive oils is produced. The olive tree has been cultivated in Catalonia since at least ancient Roman times, although it was probably first introduced by the Greeks in 600 BCE. Its cultivation developed alongside other typical crops that flourish in a dry climate – such as almonds, grains and grapes – until growing olives and producing olive oil became the main industry of Les Garrigues in the 19th century.

Imagine five days filled with tasting the best food products from around the world and meeting the artisans who make them. Then add a whirlwind of political discussions, wine tastings and serendipitous meetings with fellow food enthusiasts, and you have a piece of what the biennial Salone del Gusto and Terra Madre convention offers visitors. We traveled to Turin, Italy, for the 10th convention, organized by the international Slow Food movement, to meet producers from some of the countries Culinary Backstreets covers.

Athinas is one of our favorite streets in the whole of Athens. Running from Omonia to Monastiraki squares, it has a scruffy, chaotic, disreputable charm that has hardly changed since we moved to Greece more than 40 years ago. From the Omonia side to City Hall and the Central Market, hawkers and peddlers – of everything from sunglasses and “magic” juicers to contraband cigarettes – make the sidewalk an obstacle course for the crowds of shoppers in search of bargains in open storefronts.