Underneath the rumble of the 7 train in Corona, Tortilleria Nixtamal turns about 5,000 pounds of corn masa into 50,000 tortillas every single day. Stacks of them fill all the available shelf space in the unassuming storefront, as a lone conveyer belt spits out a continuous single-file row of perfect tortillas. Unlike mass-produced supermarket flour tortillas, or even the average corn tortilla at your local bodega, these are all made from real corn – no preservatives added – and they’re always fresh. Anything over a day or two old is turned into chips. When Tortilleria Nixtamal opened 10 years ago, real-deal fresh corn tortillas were impossible to find in New York, and stores had only recently begun to stock Mexican goods aside from the odd can of Ortega chiles.

When Cleveland-native Andy Husney set out for China at age 20 to teach English, he never would have believed that he would live there for the next decade, or, for that matter, open a Mexican restaurant. Husney initially came in 2012 for a one-year gig teaching English in Shenyang, located in China’s northeast Liaoning Province. But after that wrapped up, inspired by some friends and a desire to experience the culinary history of China, he made his way to Chengdu – recognized by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO) as a Creative City of Gastronomy, the capital of Sichuan province is also one of the capitals of Chinese cuisine.

Each year in late summer, some of the best athletes on the planet converge on Flushing Meadows Corona Park to compete in the United States Open Tennis Championships. In 2019, the U.S. Open begins with practice sessions and qualifier matches on Monday, August 19, and concludes with the men’s singles final, scheduled for Sunday, September 8. The tournament site does provide hungry fans with several cafés and casual bar-restaurants as well as a pair of “food villages.” But when in Queens – where some of the best food in the city is so close at hand – why would we confine ourselves to the boundaries of the tennis center? To energize ourselves beforehand or wind down afterward, here are a few of our favorite nearby dining destinations.

If anything in recent history has bonded Spanish hearts, it was neither politics, language, flags nor even TV. It was the tortilla de patatas, the iconic potato omelet. In every house, bar and restaurant, the tortilla de patates is always treated with intimacy and respect, like some sort of communal great-great-grandmother. And in every Spanish city, you will find a list of the best kitchens offering this specialty. For Barcelona, one neighborhood temple devoted to the omelet is Les Truites, a small family restaurant in Sant Gervasi run by Joan Antoni Miró and his son Marc.

We humans can cry for many reasons – out of happiness, sadness, anger and frustration. But for someone who hails from the northwestern Spanish region of Galicia, there’s something else that can easily bring tears: morriña, which basically means homesickness, similar to the Portuguese concept of saudade. So it’s no surprise that Galician bars and restaurants abroad often have names related to this pining for home. Bar Bágoa (“bágoa” means tear) in Barcelona is no exception. This humble Galician bar has made something of its homesickness, continuing to thrive among the fancy restaurants and gastro-pubs on Carrer d’Enric Granados in the Left Eixample neighborhood.

I used to joke that the only thing binding together Spain is the classic tortilla española, which in Catalonia we refer to as the tortilla de patatas – a neutral name. This potato omelet is one of the very few traditional dishes that is prepared the same way (and equally beloved) throughout Spain’s Autonomous Communities, the regions created after the Spanish Constitution of 1978, a necessary step towards creating a democratic country after the end of Franco’s dictatorship. The fact that this is one of the few dishes we all have in common highlights the significant regional differences of our traditional cuisine, despite our common Mediterranean culinary culture.

There’s something limitless about tacos in Mexico. All you need for a good taco is a soft corn tortilla – handmade are a plus – and a filling, which can take the form of meats such as al pastor, carnitas, mixiote, fish, vegetables and, lesser-known outside of Mexico, guisados.

Not far from the Gràcia neighborhood’s glittering Paseo de Gràcia can be found a completely different world of narrow, unassuming side streets. Once populated by Catalan Gypsies, the area is fondly remembered as one of the cradles of rumba catalana, a popular fusion of flamenco, mambo and rock and roll, and as the birthplace of Antonio “El Pescaílla” González, a legendary flamenco guitarist who was one of the genre’s founding fathers.

When Julián Fernández and Carmen Erdocia moved to Barcelona in 1996, they bought an old fútbol salon in the Eixample that was named Táctica, or “tactics,” in a reference to Spanish football. Julián and Carmen began serving pintxos such as tortilla de bacalao (Spanish omelet with codfish) to hungry futboleros. Eventually, the venue became so popular that they decided to convert Táctica into a Basque restaurant specializing in pintxos. The name was easy: Taktika Berri means “new tactics” in Basque.

Located on busy Carrer de l’Escorial on the edge of Gràcia, Vermuteria Loú is a tiny, cozy venue that is exactly what we look for in a neighborhood place. The little terrace out front, with just four tables and a bar that opens to the street, encourages patrons to sit and take refreshment while observing the local street life. Inside, the scene might consist of individual drinkers slowly savoring a glass of cava at the bar while a group of men sit at the tables in the back, talking and eating one dish brought out from the kitchen after another.

Humanity came from corn, or so says the Mayan creation story, the Popol Vuh. After creating the earth and animals, the story goes, the Maker decided to create beings in his likeness. After failing twice with dirt and wood, the Maker formed man and woman out of the “nourishing life” of ground corn. And so began Mexico’s deep relationship with one of the most widely used crops in human history, one that seems to be present in almost every aspect of Mexican cooking.

Dear Culinary Backstreets, In just about every restaurant or bar I’ve been to in Barcelona, I’ve seen a dish called “tortilla.” What exactly is a tortilla and can you recommend any places where they are done especially well? Although it would seem that much of the world imagines the inhabitants of Spain subsisting largely on paella, the truth of the matter is that it is the tortilla española, also known as tortilla de patatas (truita de patata in Catalan), that  really holds the place of honor in the hearts and stomachs of Spaniards. Often translated into English on menus as “potato omelet,” this hearty round cake of potatoes, eggs, olive oil and salt has nothing to do with the traditional French omelet, nor does it have anything in common with a Mexican tortilla. At its most basic, the Spanish tortilla is made by frying up a thick mass of sliced potatoes and eggs in olive oil and then slicing it into savory wedges.