Georgians – that is, Georgians who hail from the former Soviet republic and not the American South – love their cheesy khachapuri and their beef-and-lamb-filled khinkali. At a glatt kosher restaurant, however, dairy items and meat items can't mingle, either in the kitchen or in the dining room, and many such establishments serve only one or the other. Marani takes a second approach: two kitchens, two dining rooms, two sets of dishes. It's possible to enjoy a progressive dinner under a single roof, first with khachapuri in a basement bakery that resembles a spartan pizzeria, then with a succession of appetizers, skewers and entrees in the more formal setting upstairs.

Inside Barcelona’s lesser-known Mercat de Les Corts is a small, unassuming bar offering up the bounty of the Mediterranean. El Bisaura opens up shop at 6:30 a.m., serving esmorzars de forquilla (hearty Catalan breakfasts like sausage and beans, tripe stew and grilled cuttlefish) to local workers. At lunch, it serves a more refined seafood menu composed of whatever owner Alfonso Puig gets from Peixateria Anna, the fish stand on the other side of the market. The fish and seafood of the day are always seasonal, local and impeccably fresh – which is no surprise, since Puig is also the owner of the fish stand.

Sitting at a table in Lucio, a long-established tavern in the heart of Madrid’s most famous tapas street, is a singular experience that has a slightly surreal, Buñuel-esque touch. Queues formed of Madrid’s born-and-bred elite snake past the elegant wooden bar, the coiffed connoisseurs greeted with affection by the landlord himself as they wait to eat his restaurant’s specialty dish. Lucio’s signature white suit and the hushed, apparent dignity of the place are quite a contrast to the actual holy grail itself: a plate of fried eggs and fries. The eponymous owner keeps repeating in a whisper that this is the most famous restaurant in all of Spain; perhaps it truly is.

Asking cariocas if they remember their first Biscoito Globo, the ubiquitous, crunchy beach snack, is like asking anyone who teethed in the United States if they remember trying Cheerios for the first time. Globo biscuits and sweet iced mate are to Rio's beaches what hot dogs and beer are to American baseball stadiums. Calls of “Ó Globo! Ó mate!” are the soundtrack along the shores of Copacabana, Ipanema and Leblon. The iconic packaging, which features a globe-headed mascot surrounded by the Eiffel Tower, the Tower of Pisa, Portugal's Belém Tower and Rio's Sugarloaf, has been reproduced on t-shirts, tote bags, and cangas (sarongs).

Tucked away from the constant hustle and bustle of Queens Boulevard, Anna and George Artunian’s Sunnyside bakery, Arsi’s Pateseria, is a pleasant surprise. As we walk down 47th Avenue towards the gauzy Midtown Manhattan skyline, the smell of freshly baked burekas greets us long before we get to the bakery’s wide window. Inside, in metal trays behind the counter, four different types of burekas, savory sesame ring cookies and even baklava gleam in different shades of gold. Also behind the counter is 60-year-old Anna Artunian, one-half of the husband-and-wife team running the establishment and chatting with the customers, most of whom are regulars.

Queens may be home to diverse communities representing almost every country in the world, but if there’s thing that unites many of these immigrants it’s Roosevelt Avenue, a 5.8-mile corridor that runs east/west underneath the elevated tracks of the 7 subway line. Running through neighborhoods with some of the highest concentrations of immigrants in the borough, Roosevelt Avenue might be one of the most culturally – and culinarily – diverse commercial thoroughfares in the United States. In 2015, Noah Allison, a PhD candidate in Urban Policy at The New School, had the brilliant idea of walking the length of Roosevelt Avenue in order to map all of its restaurants. We recently caught up with him to talk about the project and his findings.

Whether we’re heading to Sichuan province for a little culinary vacation or just looking for the best bowl of dan dan mian in the city, there’s one person we call for dining recommendations: Jenny Gao. Born in Chengdu and raised in Canada, Gao’s family still lives in Sichuan, and since moving to Shanghai in 2012, she visits them often. Over the past couple years, she’s turned her love for her hometown cuisine into a full-time job, becoming Shanghai’s unofficial Sichuan food ambassador. For years, Gao was the writer behind Jing Theory, a popular food blog about Shanghai’s best places to eat, drink and more.

Order a plate of vindaloo in one of the many Goan restaurants around Lisbon and your local friend at the table may point out that the origin of this dish is, in fact, Portuguese. Even the name can be decoded back to the Portuguese vinho d’alhos (wine and garlic), he’ll say. But let’s be honest here, amigo, vinho d’alhos has about as much to do with Goan vindaloo as the croissant does with the cronut. Vinho d’alhos may have sailed off to Goa along with Vasco da Gama in the 15th century, but when it returned to Lisbon with Goan migrants in the 1960s and 70s, something had changed. It had gone Goan.

Deep in the trenches of one of the oldest union strongholds in Mexico City, there’s a deeply democratic taquería that manages to bring together office workers, blue-collar workers, locals and tourists alike. When you walk by this place, chaos seems to reign. However, once you step into the current you realize there’s a system that keeps the flow of people, tacos, and drinks under control. Taquería El Progreso started serving beef head, suadero (a cut similar to brisket) and tripe tacos 23 years ago. Javier Ramos, an employee who has been working there since the beginning, told us that at first the taquería was about a third of its current size.

Portuguese gastronomy is at the core of Rio's botequins, the small, often family-run gastrobars spread all over the city. Traditional botequins offer European food and some unique aspects of Brazilian culture – mix you’ll find only in Rio. That being said, it’s hard to say whether Tasca Carvalho, the brand new Portuguese gastrobar in Copacabana, is a typical botequim. Run by two young Portuguese friends newly arrived from Porto, Tasca Carvalho is not a mix, but 100 percent Portuguese. And that makes it unique in Rio's street food landscape. Perhaps the only indication of Brazilian influence you might find at Tasca Carvalho is in the ambience. The tables and benches, spread all over the sidewalk, follow the carioca rules of informality.

The menu at Com-Tradição might not be as revolutionary as the vintage posters on the walls, but it’s certainly democratic and affordable. After all, Com-Tradição is the restaurant of the Associação 25 de Abril, founded by the military men who planned the 1974 Carnation Revolution, the coup that ended Portugal’s fascist regime and restored democracy. Nowadays anyone can become a member of this non-profit association. Besides preserving the spirit of the revolution, it also aims to preserve documents and memories of this historical event. The association is located in a beautiful Bairro Alto old building, whose renovation and interior design were overseen by the renowned architect Álvaro Siza Vieira.

In past centuries, ones of economic hardship, Neapolitans’ ancestors feasted only during religious holidays. It was easier then to distinguish the piatti delle feste, feasting foods, by their richness and variety. In these more prosperous times, and with the availability of raw materials throughout the year, these lavish dishes can be prepared or purchased virtually any time, which makes it seem difficult to talk about “festive meals.” However, with the approach of Easter (and Christmas), many Neapolitans, beyond their religious beliefs, are seized by an irresistible desire to return to family traditions and to eat the dishes prepared by their forebears.

Milky, tart, viscous and slightly foamy. At first glance and sip, there’s little to explain why pulque – a mildly alcoholic drink made by fermenting the fresh sap of certain types of maguey, the same plant used for making mezcal – has remained a trusted companion to Mexican drinkers since Aztec times. Pulque, actually, has not only survived, but, after decades of losing ground to beer and soft drinks and their high-priced marketing campaigns, this workingman’s brew is making a comeback. New pulquerías are popping up in hip Mexico City neighborhoods and attracting a younger crowd while old pulquerías, which endured some lean times, are seeing an influx of new customers, who now sit side-by-side with older generations of loyal pulque drinkers.

In the past year, we’ve seen more new noodle houses hawking spicy Chengdu and Chongqing style noodles than we can count on two hands. Very few of the Shanghai-based noodle houses do the fly restaurants of Chengdu justice. Some dish out bowls of insipid strands that barely register on the Scoville scale, while others go for that unbalanced, burn-your-face-off flare that means the chef has likely never been to Sichuan, much less studied the careful art of the region’s balanced cooking. Liu Dao Men is among the exceptions, carefully walking the tightrope of spicy yet tasty, with its menu of Chengdu noodle classics.

Tokyo holds the record as the largest city in the world by population, density and land size. Luckily, efficiency of space and flow keeps the city from spinning completely out of control. Unfortunately walking around can easily lead to sensory overload. Over the years we’ve found several somewhat secret hideaways to escape the cacophony of the city – perfect places for clearing the mind and spirit, especially during spring’s blossom season. International House Every spring we make a pilgrimage to the International House of Japan in Roppongi to view a tree with the most beautiful sakura (cherry blossoms) in Tokyo. “I-House” is a private non-profit organization created to promote cultural exchange and intellectual cooperation between Japan and other countries.