Athens, unofficially known as the Big Olive, has many delightful spots for a picnic in all seasons. Okay, in summer perhaps you’d rather be on the beach – and that can be arranged if you hop on a bus or tram for the southern coastal suburbs of Voula, Vouliagmeni and Varkiza – but in the city proper you can spread your meal on a hillside with a view of the Acropolis. With the weather often sunny and mild even in February, all you need is a little DIY initiative and the ability to resist the temptation of a snack at one of the many “fastfoodadika” or a sit-down meal in an air-conditioned taverna.

The downright whimsy of Filomila is hard to ignore – or resist. Perhaps it is the red exterior with the French-inspired script or the vintage bric-a brac and posters that cover the walls. Or it could very well be the sight of all the pies, sitting patiently by the window just asking to be eaten. One thing is sure, most of the shop’s allure stems from the energy of its owner, Efstathia, who four years ago decided to go rogue after working in various Athens restaurants and open up with just 3,000 euros to her name, against all advice from friends and family.

The first few blocks of Baruthane are lined with a smattering of restaurants, barbers, television repair shops and dry cleaners, though in recent years a flurry of third-wave coffee shops and bars has arrived on the street. While this is a positive development for the young adults that patronize these establishments, there is the inevitable concern that their proliferation will cause a spike in rents and tarnish the quaint character of this beloved neighborhood. It is for this reason that we were thrilled to see a new establishment open up on Baruthane that reflects the classic small-business character that makes this area so special. Köy Börek is run by Abdullah Kral, a cheerful 53-year-old teddy bear of a man who makes some of the most delicious börek we’ve ever had – and we’ve had a lot. (Kral means king in Turkish, and we are prepared to crown Abdullah bey the king of börek.)

Like many cooks and chefs before and after her, Ioanna Amoutzaki’s biggest culinary inspiration was her mother, Lambrini. Born and raised in Xanthi, a beautiful town in northern Greece, Ioanna spent her childhood in a busy kitchen, learning the art of cooking. Both of her parents came from Smyrna (now Izmir) in Asia Minor – the Greeks from that region have always been legendary for their cooking skills, and her mother was no exception. A particularly skilled home cook and baker (the family had a wood-burning oven in the backyard), Lambrini passed all of her culinary secrets to her daughter.

Before we got down to the business of food, there was the business of tea. As soon as we were seated at one of the large round tables at Jing Teng in Mexico City’s Viaducto Piedad neighborhood, our server, Montse, placed a pot of piping hot red tea on the lazy Susan in front of us. As we took our first sip, we noticed the steam billowing out of the kitchen and the chatter of Sunday morning patrons casually conversing in Cantonese in between long stares at a mounted television blasting a cable Chinese news program. An unassuming diner, Jing Teng caters to the community of (somewhat) recently arrived immigrants from China who have settled in the neighborhood.

When we embarked on the ferryboat to the South Aegean island of Kea at Lavrio, about an hour’s drive from Athens, we didn’t see any of the tourists that typically fill ferries going to the Cyclades in summer. Traveling with the summer winds just an hour further, we seemed to slip through an invisible door into a world at once very close but far away in ethos. Many wealthy denizens of Attica, the peninsula that encompasses Athens, have built their summer homes here in a style that deviates from the famous blue-and-white of the Cyclades, incorporating local stones and looking somehow traditional and modern at the same time, blending into the local landscape. A big aspect of this landscape – yet another surprise, the greenness of the island – is the thousands of trees that make up the ancient oak forest carpeting Kea, whose acorns are undergoing a felicitous revival as a staple of local economic – and even culinary – life.

The humble pie is perhaps one of the world’s oldest street foods. A quick survey of global food history finds pies everywhere, from East to West, mirroring the local ingredients, agricultural practices and dietary needs of different cultures. In Greece, pies certainly go way back. There are a few references to pie-making during the Minoan times (2600-1600 BC), but most mentions are from around the 5th century BC onwards, when pies were generally known as plakous. Ancient Athens was particularly famous for its bakeries and pies, especially a cheese pie known as tyronos plakous or tyron artos. They were the main snack consumed by Athenians while listening to public speeches at the Agora or while watching theater.

Since its name derives from the Turkish word peynir (cheese), it’s no surprise that Athens’ best peinirli (πεϊνιρλί, “with cheese”), a boat-shaped flatbread similar to pide in Turkey and khachapuri in Georgia, is usually found at old, specialized shops or eateries owned by families who originally came from Asia Minor or Pontus, the Greek name for the southern coast of the Black Sea, in the early 20th century. So when Spyros, the owner of Peinirli Ionias in Ambelokipoi, one of the most popular peinirli takeaways in downtown Athens, casually mentions that he originally hails from the Ionian island of Corfu – nowhere near Asia Minor, another name for Turkey’s Anatolia region – we are left scratching our heads. Sensing our confusion, he quickly adds that he learned the art of peinirli-making directly from the source, so to speak: his father- and mother-in-law, who both emigrated to Athens as part of the 1923 population exchange between Greece and Turkey.