While Americans celebrate Halloween this week with M&Ms and Milk Duds, in Catalonia this time of the year is marked with a different, more sophisticated, kind of sweet. The small, round marzipan cookies called panellets are, along with roasted chestnuts and sweet wine, the traditional fare of All Saints’ Day, or Tots Sants in Catalan.

Paris dining today isn’t just about white tablecloths or tasting menus. It’s about neighborhood spots, inventive bakers, and chefs cooking with personality—and this list captures 11 of the best.

Let us begin with a little Greek mythology. Hermes – son of Zeus, god of thieves and commerce and messenger of Olympus – and Krokos, a mortal youth, were best friends. One day, while the two friends were practicing their discus throwing, Hermes accidentally hit Crocus on the head and wounded him fatally. On the very spot where he was felled, a beautiful flower sprang up. Three drops of blood from Krokos’s head fell on the center of the flower, from which three stigmas grew. This is just one of many origin stories for Crocus sativus, or the saffron crocus, whose crimson stigmas are harvested to make the highly prized spice of the same name.

Home to countless immigrant stories, Queens is the most diverse borough in New York City, with over two million people, half of whom were born outside the United States. So it’s no surprise that the area’s markets – some sprawling, many more pocket-sized – are equally as diverse, serving immigrant communities both old and new. We recently sent out New York-based photographer Melanie Einzig to document fall’s bounty at five of the borough’s diverse marketplaces. Her visual harvest can be found below.

For nearly 50 years, Halmaejip near Gyeongbokgung Station has served jokbal (soy-braised pig’s trotters) and gamjatang (pork backbone stew) with the warmth, and once the scolding, of a Korean grandmother’s kitchen.

The vast majority of the food in Bangkok is, without a doubt, Thai. But peek under the hood and you’ll find ingredients, cooking techniques, and dishes that can be traced back to places far beyond Thailand. Influences brought by Chinese immigrants – namely Hokkien, Hakka, and Teochew people – have done the most to shape food in Bangkok. Immigration from the Muslim world has also had a massive impact on the city’s cuisine. And even contact with Europeans has come to shape Thai food. The result of all this is the fascinating, delicious jumble of ingredients, cooking techniques, dishes, and influences that today we recognize as Thai food.

“I still don’t know where the siphon bottles for the vermut are,” says an employee of Marina, a small bar in the newly renovated Mercat de Sant Antoni. It’s clear as we’re walking around that the staff of the market’s few bars and its many vendors are still settling in and adapting to their brand new spots. At the same time, hundreds of visitors have been exploring the revamped market each day since its opening last week asking, “Where can we eat or drink something?” So far, that seems to be the question on everyone’s mind, particularly locals. But this is not another food hall, this is a proper neighborhood market focused on selling quality fresh produce and other food product

Ricardo Manuel Pires Martins likes to brag about the popularity of his bar among Japanese tourists. We don’t begrudge him that, because if you’re in the market for seafood, particularly the less-cooked kind, as these tourists evidently are, Adega Pérola is your bar. Tucked on a commercial lane a few blocks behind the Art Deco condo-and-hotel jam that is the Copacabana beachside, Rio's Adega Pérola sticks close to its Iberian roots, with wine jugs lining the high wall shelves and a selection of about a hundred tapas stewing in their respective marinades behind the glass bar window.

From the street, Café Lamas looks almost intentionally nondescript. A fluorescent-lit bar with a glass case of snacks and a few metal chairs would make it identical to any other lanchonete (snack bar) across the city, if it weren’t for the shadowy doorway behind the bar’s aisle. Behind that door awaits a blast from the past. Café Lamas is Rio de Janeiro’s oldest restaurant – a respectable 138 years old in a city that is rapidly putting on a new face as it buzzes with Olympic, hotel and condominium construction – and the place radiates a sense of history and tradition. Bow-tied waiters politely bend as guests enter the dining room, which is dimly illuminated by lamps on ornate cast-iron mounts.

When longtime locals discuss contenders for “best all-around po’boy shop in all of New Orleans,” R&O’s is usually an integral part of the conversation. Fans of the stalwart seafood house located a literal stone’s throw from Lake Pontchartrain will wax poetic about a wide variety of the menu’s delectable standouts – Italian salads studded with tangy chopped giardiniera, oversized stuffed artichokes, seasonal boiled seafoods – before they even start talking po’boys. However, once the conversation turns to the city’s signature long-sandwich, the accolades come in fast and strong. Want a classic shrimp, oyster or soft-shell crab po’boy? They’ll arrive overstuffed, crunchy and fried to juicy perfection.

On a neighborhood back street, hemmed in by cars on both sides, sits a house-turned-secret dance club, a girl selling Maruchan soup-in-a-cup under a pop-up tent, and La Chubechada – a tiny storefront with a cutout window just big enough for Maria Guadalupe to poke her head out and take your order. When your drink comes up and she hollers out your name, you better be quick on your feet to go pick it up. For tourists venturing out of the center of Mexico City, La Chubechada feels far from the trendy spotlight and more than a little intimidating, but upon arrival the place hums with a neighborhood vibe – kids hanging out and getting tipsy on the sidewalk with their friends, locals stopping by to say hello.

Summer in Provençe ushers in a multitude of promises. In Marseille, it means waking to the song of the cicadas, day trips by boat to le Frioul to cool off in the sea and the afternoon rendezvous with friends for an apéro of pastis or rosé on ice. Saturdays bring the bliss of wandering through the markets in search for the perfect melon from Cavaillon, the ciflorette strawberries from Carpentras, or the succulent coeur de boeuf tomato. Perhaps the one market item that signifies the Provençal summer more than anything else is the fleur de courgette (zucchini flower). When this lovely little flower appears, we know it is officially summertime in the South.