Ilioupoli may be an unassuming residential suburb southeast of Athens, but this neighborhood, whose name means “Sun City,” has at least one shining culinary star: Mikres Kyklades (Small Cyclades). Opened by Antonis Kovaios in 2005, the seafood restaurant is named after the most remote group of islands in the Cyclades, which includes such heavyweights as Santorini and Mykonos. Clustered south of Naxos, the Small Cyclades are what you imagine islands in Greece to be – clean blue sea, natural beauty and an abundance of fresh fish and seafood ¬– minus the crowds.

In 2005, the city of Tbilisi bulldozed a riverside row of some the best restaurants in the capital to make way for a lackluster park and a gondola to take tourists to the ancient ruins of the Narikala Fortress, which overlooks the Old Town. City Hall justified this act of gastronomic destruction by stating the property had been illegally privatized under the previous administration, but everyone knew it was a land grab. And among the many restaurants it razed was Megrelebi Manoni, the best Megrelian restaurant in Tbilisi. Of all the regions that make up “Georgian cooking,” the western province of Samegrelo is the most distinctive.

Traveling out to the Nakameguro district from central Tokyo is similar to a trip from midtown Manhattan to Greenpoint, Brooklyn. It’s not that far and there are many amusing and delicious reasons to go. Nakameguro is similar to parts of Brooklyn in that real estate prices remain reasonable and artists, designers, chefs and entrepreneurs have flocked there to establish high- and low-end shops and restaurants catering to the hip and trendy. It is now one of the more desirable places to live in Tokyo. Smack in the middle of all things fabulously cool is the yakitori shop Kushiwakamaru, catering to neighborhood regulars as well as a rabid expat community since the mid-90s.

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.

As a port city, Naples has seen several civilizations come and go over the years. The Normans, Swabians, Angevins, Aragonese, French, Spanish… they all had an impact on Naples’ architecture, language and, most importantly, its food. Neapolitan cuisine reflects these centuries of foreign domination, which has led to culinary cross-pollination and gastronomic innovations. While foreign conquerors may no longer be putting their stamp on Neapolitan cooking, local chefs and bakers still look outside for inspiration as they continue to innovate, searching for new ingredients, new flavors and new methods. The aim is not to abandon the city’s rich culinary heritage, but to build upon it.

The tiny Öz Develi Etli Pide Salonu is nestled in a narrow backstreet in Istanbul’s Tarlabaşı neighborhood, a place that is much more synonymous with crime, gentrification and crass urban development (in that order) than it is with regional culinary specialties. But Öz Develi’s speciality, the cıvıklı pide, is so enticing that it attracts diners from all over the city to this unfairly maligned neighborhood, which is neither without its problems nor lacking in treasures. The master behind the cıvıklı is Hacı Ahmet Beşparmark, who hails from the district of Develi, south of Mount Erciyes in the Central Anatolian province of Kayseri.

Rod is at his seat at the end of the bar, his booming Scottish voice subdued by the spirited dim of a couple dozen Friday night regulars speaking mostly English in a variety of accents. We make our way to the steam table in the corner of the room to find it empty. Looks like there may have been chicken wings in there. If you want to munch free food at the weekly happy hour at Betsy’s Hotel bar, you have to get here at 6 p.m., when it starts.

In Mexican cuisine, sweets are for the most part simple treats that are enjoyed at the park, market or beach, such as caramelized fruits and vegetables, blocks of nuts or amaranth seeds held together with honey, or small rice paper cakes filled with honey. The common denominator of most of these sweets is their simplicity. When it comes to ice cream and other frozen delights, however, the country truly shines, with an astounding variety of cold treats to please sweet tooths of every persuasion. The range of frozen desserts found in Mexico City includes everything from raspados – ice shavings served in plastic bags or cups to which a flavor of choice is added – to Italian gelato served in some of the most sophisticated restaurants in town.

This funky restaurant’s name was inspired by its address, on one of the main streets in the Athens district known as Neos Kosmos, or New World. It could just as well be called Terra Incognita, so distant is it from the usual areas frequented by locals and foreigners alike for entertainment and good food. And yet, geographically, it’s just a short walk from a new institution that has already claimed its rightful place among the “must sees” of the Big Olive: the National Museum of Contemporary Art.

The Spanish Civil War may have ended five years earlier, but in 1944 Barcelona was still recovering from the conflict. Franco’s budding dictatorship had put in place a complicated social and economic situation, while the city’s port – home to a humming underground black market – was rebuilding its fishing fleet, as fascist bombs had destroyed most of the boats during the war. Amidst all this action and uncertainty, the Galician Millán family opened a restaurant named Carballeira on Reina Cristina Street, in the Pas de Sota Muralla neighborhood of Port Vell (Old Port). Fisherman and port workers flocked to the restaurant, where over fish soup, grilled sardines, prawns or a bowl of hearty Galician Caldo Gallego – and almost certainly a glass of wine – they talked about the situation.

La pizzaiola, played by Sophia Loren, peddles pizza from a counter on the doorstep of her street level apartment. She kneads dough while crying out for custom in a thick dialect and as clouds of flour fall to the cobbled Neapolitan street. This scene comes from one of the great cinematic homages to a city: Di Sica’s L’Oro di Napoli (“The Gold of Naples”), a 1954 a film that grapples with the bittersweet tastes of comedy, tragedy, hustling and the art of making do. There’s nowhere better to see Naples in all its “golden” glory than in the very neighborhood in which the film’s star, the inimitable Totó, grew up and where parts of the film are set: La Sanità.

It is not hubris to say you have the best tortas (Mexican sandwich) in town when you have been serving them for more than 80 years. Take Tortas La Texcocana, which has been serving the delicious sandwiches in Mexico City since the early 1930s – their longevity suggests an unsurpassable skill for sandwich-making. The business was founded by León Sánchez, a Texcoco native, in downtown Mexico City. He started selling sardine tortas to newspaper workers on the street. In 1936, he established a small shop that sold various items, his famous tortas among them. Tortas La Texcocana is in the same venue where Sánchez set up his shop many decades ago.

There’s something special about Crete, Greece’s biggest island. The country’s most fertile region, it has a long history of food and wine production that stretches back to the Bronze Age, making Crete one of the most interesting culinary destinations in Europe. Bordered by the Aegean Sea to the north and the Libyan Sea to the south, the island is home to over 70 different edible herbs and wild greens, and local farmers produce a wide range of products, from Mediterranean staples like olives, tomatoes and eggplants to more tropical produce, such as mangoes and papayas.

Sants is a working neighborhood with an industrial past and a communal present, both of which it proudly flaunts. There are the street names – like L’Espanya Industrial, Carrer Wat (dedicated to the engineer James Watt) and Vapor Vell (Old Steam) – that tell the story of industrialization in Catalonia, and the two buzzing municipal markets and the many bodegas and restaurants, like Terra de Escudella or Bodega Salvat, that serve as meeting points for an engaged community. Although shaped by a diverse set of international influences, the neighborhood’s sophisticated culinary scene is tied together by something more local: vermut culture.