Every time we venture down to Turkey’s Çukurova region, particularly its largest cities of Mersin and Adana, we leave more intrigued than we were on the previous visit. In much closer proximity to Cyprus and Beirut than Izmir and Istanbul, these are truly southern Mediterranean cities, with blooming flowers, incredible citrus fruits, towering palm trees and scorching summers. Major cities with keen urban identities, they’re inhabited by highly diverse populations and characterized by architectural styles not seen further north. And did we mention the cuisine? Adana is the undisputed capital of kebab, and the city of Antakya is among the finest culinary destinations in the country. While Mersin may take a backseat to these regional heavyweights, it boasts its own delicacy, tantuni, which was our first source of inspiration for taking the trip south. We quickly learned that the coastal city of one million boasts a number of other culinary specialties that for the most part have not made it outside the region.

The late Greek shipping magnate Aristotle Onassis may be world-famous, but no one could have guessed that he would be the source of inspiration for a neighborhood kebab place in a residential suburb of Athens. Onassis, who was commonly called Ari or Aristos, was born in 1906 in Smyrna (now Izmir, Turkey), only to later flee with his family to Greece in 1922, during the Greco-Turkish War. Poor but with a grand vision and a great mind, he went on to become one of the richest and most successful businessmen in the world. When Vasilis and Panayiotis, who also own other successful eateries in town, opened their kebab restaurant Kyr-Aristos (kyr is short/slang for kyrios, which can be translated as “mister”) in spring 2013, they decided to name it after Onassis, a refugee from Smyrna, where kebab was a traditional food.

On a recent visit to the market of Sant’Antonio Abate, a pilgrimage site for fresh produce, we made friends with Salvatore, a young Neapolitan chef who was buying fruit and vegetables for his restaurant. We thought nothing of it until we bumped into him again, this time when he was buying fresh bluefish, the symbol and pride, he told us, of his restaurant. Our curiosity piqued, we asked where he worked. Mimì alla Ferrovia, he told us, a name we immediately recognized – it’s one of the custodians of Neapolitan gastronomic orthodoxy. And Salvatore Giugliano, an innovative young chef of 27, is now at the helm of this historic restaurant.

In an ideal world, all fish restaurants would be like Casa Ideal, with its fresh red mullet, proper fish stews with rice, lovely staff taking care of your orders and affordable prices. Also in an ideal world, we would have visited Casa Ideal much earlier. We first heard about the restaurant, which for 40 years has operated in the backstreets of Trafaria on the south bank of the Tagus River, some time ago but never made the time to stop in for a bite. Yet after learning that the restaurant had changed hands a year and a half ago – 54-year-old Conceição Augusto took over from her sister and brother-in-law, and now runs Casa Ideal with her cousins Gabriela Carmo, who works in the kitchen, and Delfim Carlos Gomes, who works behind the counter – we decided to check it out.

It’s always tempting to try and take on all three major museums in Tokyo’s Art Triangle in one day. It would be easy to be overwhelmed by the delicious treasures of the National Art Center Tokyo, the Suntory Museum of Art and the Mori Art Museum, so we usually opt for just one and head to Naniwa afterwards for a pot of tea and their delicious taiyaki, a popular form of Japanese sweets (wagashi). The classic version of taiyaki is a fish-shaped pastry with a waffle-like exterior and a filling of red bean (adzuki) paste, though there are plenty of variations encasing chocolate, cream, custard or some other luscious filling. The finished delicacy is best eaten freshly baked, although many people enjoy it at home reheated. Taiyaki resembles a red snapper (tai or madai), which is considered an auspicious fish in Asia.

It’s always tempting to try and take on all three major museums in Tokyo’s Art Triangle in one day. It would be easy to be overwhelmed by the delicious treasures of the National Art Center Tokyo, the Suntory Museum of Art and the Mori Art Museum, so we usually opt for just one and head to Naniwa afterwards for a pot of tea and their delicious taiyaki, a popular form of Japanese sweets (wagashi). The classic version of taiyaki is a fish-shaped pastry with a waffle-like exterior and a filling of red bean (adzuki) paste, though there are plenty of variations encasing chocolate, cream, custard or some other luscious filling. The finished delicacy is best eaten freshly baked, although many people enjoy it at home reheated. Taiyaki resembles a red snapper (tai or madai), which is considered an auspicious fish in Asia.

Cumhuriyet Avenue bridges the central Istanbul districts of Beyoğlu and Şişli, and is flanked on its eastern side by a number of large complexes including the city’s expansive Military Museum, the iconic Hilton and Divan Hotels, a towering officer’s club, and a public theater and convention center. In contrast, its western strip consists of a lengthy row of multistory apartment buildings, mostly modern but with a few gems from the turn of the century, housing tourism agencies and foreign consulates. Behind these lie the Harbiye quarter, home to a collection of smaller, charming historic buildings, most of which have seen much better days. It is a generally safe area if a bit seedy, with a number of questionable nightclubs on basement floors.

Cal Pep is a name you’ll find across Barcelona, but it takes on a different meaning depending on which neighborhood you’re in. In Gràcia, the name Cal Pep is synonymous with an old bar-bodega, dedicated almost entirely to the business of drinking (Carrer de Verdi, 141). The Cal Pep in Born is a famous seafood restaurant in Born (Plaça de les Olles, 8), with lines snaking out the door. In Sants, Cal Pep is affixed to a charismatic bodegueta (small bodega). Narrow, long and dimly lit, this particular Cal Pep has the atmosphere of a wine temple – including wooden casks and a vintage fridge – that has been frozen in time, with most of the original decorations from 1927 still intact.