With shops closing, pensions and salaries shrinking, and more and more Greeks feeling the pinch, it never ceases to amaze us that good food in the capital and elsewhere is still appreciated and faithful customers still abound. The restaurants below are just a few among the many wonderful, lively places that are managing to keep their standards despite enormous financial pressures. Their prices are affordable, their quality outstanding. Sea Satin Nino, Korthi Bay, Andros This is one of those restaurants that a Michelin Guide would rate not merely as “worth the trip” but “worth the detour.” Although it may take an hour’s drive from the port and half an hour from Hora, any meal at Sea Satin Nino is cause for celebration.

At the beginning, Gelida was just a bodega where Joan Llopart i Figueres, who came from the village of Gelida in Penedés, offered Catalan wine, cold cuts and a few traditional Catalan dishes cooked by his grandmother, like butifarra amb mongetas (boiled sausage with beans). Llopart i Figueres and his wife worked here until they were in their 80s. They were succeeded by their two children, Teresa and Alberto, who have always been involved in the family business and who continue to run the place today alongside their respective spouses, Josep and Luci. Alberto and Luci’s son, Gerard, helps to manage the restaurant, and Laura and Santi, family friends who live nearby, joined the team in recent years as dining room manager and chef.

Downtown Rio, full of historical monuments, colonial architecture and daytime bustle, grows emptier during the evenings. But for the last half century, one cobblestone street has given commuters a reason to stick around: sardines. Salty, crispy, scrumptious fried sardines. Sitting at the foot of the Matriz de Santa Rita church, Beco das Sardinhas (Sardine Alley) is a cluster of five bars that pour into Rua Miguel Couto, a pedestrian-only street dedicated to the little fish, and is both a favorite after-work destination and jumping-off point to downtown Rio’s nightlife. On a recent Friday evening, customers – some in suits, some in shorts and flip-flops and others dressed for a night out on the town – sat at the plastic tables that fill the alley.

Is there a flavor more typically Greek than avgolemono, the smooth yet tart sauce that enriches dishes on virtually every restaurant menu in this country (apart from the souvlaki joint)? You’ll find it livening up soups of every description, poured over dolmades (wraps) of cabbage, vine leaves or chard and stuffed zucchini, thickening dozens of fish, meat, poultry and vegetable stews and fricassees. It marries particularly well with artichokes, in a famous delicate dish called anginares ala polita (or Constantinople-style), and binds the interesting innards in mageiritsa, the traditional fast-breaking stew-like soup eaten on Easter eve.

When we arrived in Tbilisi in 2001, there was one café/restaurant that was a beacon to those seeking an alternative to the traditional Georgian dining experience of stark rooms and banquet tables or greasy spoons with clunky tables and little stools. It was a funky little crooked house of pure originality that served the regular dishes, but with a personal homey touch that suited the place perfectly. Although it felt like a world apart, the art installation cafe was Georgian to the bone, being the creation of Rezo Gabriadze, the renowned artist, writer, sculptor and film and stage director.

Despite being home to Lisbon’s most photographed street, Bica has maintained its close-knit-community feel, with encroaching internationalization still held at arm’s length from these bumpy cobbled lanes and steep stairways. The small residences here have generally been passed down through generations, meaning a steadfast family vibe where everyone’s laundry is, literally, there for all to see. Estrela da Bica is a cozy, rustic restaurant at the bottom of this tiny hill district that perhaps marked the first sign of middle-class interest here. Historically inhabited by fishing families, Bica is becoming increasingly touristy by day and, thanks to the several bars around, more of a hangout at night.

We’d just about given up on hotpot, what with last year’s scandals of rat meat parading as lamb and opiates mingling with the Sichuan peppercorn to give diners a real buzz. But 2014 has seen the trend of farm-to-table dining hit Shanghai in a big way, spurred on by these food safety concerns. The most recent entrant to the organic dining scene is the aptly named Holy Cow. More than just a phrase made famous by Chicago Cubs announcer Harry Caray, Holy Cow is a healthy hotpot restaurant specializing in – you guessed it – beef, plus vegetables sourced from owner Anthony Zhao’s family farm. Loyal CB eaters might remember Zhao from his Shanghainese lunch hotspot Mi Xiang Yuan.

When people think of rice and Spain, they think of paella. In Barcelona there are hundreds of places to eat paella. And every Thursday you can find it on the menú del día at most restaurants across the city. There’s more to Spanish rice dishes than just paella, though. The word “paella” didn’t even appear until the 18th century; recipe books from the Middle Ages talk only of rice, and particularly the Valencian and Catalan kinds. In fact, “paella” originally referred to the pan used to cook the grain, but eventually came to describe the dish as we know it: rice prepared so that the water or broth completely evaporates and sometimes is left with a toasted layer on the bottom. But enough about paella!

For the most part, Mexico City pampers its citizens with year-round warm, sunny weather, give or take the occasional downpour in the rainy season. And like any spoiled child, chilangos have grown so accustomed to living in such a temperate clime that any slight deviation registers as almost unbearable. At 19 degrees C, pedestrians cloak themselves in winter coats and hurry down the sidewalk, worrying that they will freeze to death on the two-block walk from their parked car to their front door. It’s rumored that chilangos are so unused to seeing their own breath in the cold that they mistake it for their souls escaping their bodies, augmenting their hatred of frigid weather.

Istanbul's conservative Fatih district has perhaps the highest concentration of Syrian refugees in the city, and the tree-lined Akşemsettin Street boasts a staggering number of Syrian eateries, from spacious sit-down affairs with full menus to hole-in-the-wall, standing-room-only kiosks slinging shawarma, fried chicken, and falafel. Having popped up rapidly amid the waves of Syrians fleeing the devastating civil war that has displaced more than half the country's population, these establishments have made a firm imprint on the culinary scene. While the falafel at many of these places is a mediocre afterthought overshadowed by the more popular poultry-based items, we found one counter offering falafel and falafel only, serving up a generously crafted sandwich the size of a chubby child's forearm for a measly TL 2.50 (US$0.75).

Avenida da Liberdade is commonly acknowledged to be the most luxurious and expensive artery in Lisbon. It’s the obvious place to go to buy a famous designer’s dress or fancy jewelry. It might be surprising to learn, then, that it’s also the place to go for good pernil assado (roasted pork shank) or cabidela (chicken blood rice). The reason is simple: the area is filled with great tascas, which draw a wide range of local office workers, including lawyers, business consultants, public servants and unpaid interns. Among these tascas, O Cartaxinho is one of the best, if not the best. Unsurprisingly, it’s also one of the most popular – it’s not unusual to see groups waiting outside for a table during lunchtime.

Anticipating a line, we arrived ahead of our appetite, but the slightly acrid smell of fresh dashi wafting over the street hurried our hunger. Tucked behind a handful of confounding corners southwest of Shinjuku Station in a mixed-use neighborhood of apartments, shops and offices, Udon Shin has consistently ranked among the best udon restaurants in Tokyo since opening in April 2011. At around ¥1000 (US$9) per meal, you feel like you're getting away with something. Owner and chef Shinji Narahara deftly handles the classic accompaniment to udon (think homemade dashi, deep-fried tofu and tempura) but elevates the humble noodle to modern heights with their trademark carbonara udon.

Hidden behind the imposing stadium of the Panathinaikos football team – the green team as opposed to its eternal rival, Olympiakos, the red team – lies a tiny eatery that recalls Athens before the 1960s, when urban sprawl destroyed everything. Occupying two adjacent whitewashed houses, Oinomagereion to Trifylli, named after the team’s clover logo, has been serving simple, delicious food to loyal customers for the last 60 years. The taverna was founded in 1962 by Kyria (Mrs.) Koula, the present owner’s mother, in order to earn additional income for her family.

“I don’t want to be famous, I just want to do my best and make good food. You have to work with honesty, from the heart,” Salem Kabbaz tells us. Born in Damascus in 1945, Kabbaz is smiling and animated as he chats with friends and suppliers and walks in and out of his restaurant in the Barrio Gótico. A very small, discreet sign above the door marks his eatery, El Cocinero de Damasco – the Damascus Cook – which is devoted to Syrian specialties like shawarma, hummus and falafel. Neighboring residents and City Hall workers come for take away or to eat at the few tables inside the small eatery.

Rio’s bar culture is crazy for chicken. It’s common to see at bars dozens of the cooked birds laying within heated glass cases, awaiting hungry customers. The more popular the botequim, the more parts of the chicken are available. In the fancy bars of Ipanema and Leblon you can only find voluptuous breasts and legs, accompanied by salads and risottos. But in more humble botequins in the North Zone or further out in the suburbs, you’ll find gizzards, feet, beaks, and even rear ends. Yes, cu de galinha is a rare delicacy in Rio... Not only is every part of the chicken appreciated, but also all ages of the bird.