We recently spoke with travel writer Caroline Eden and food writer Eleanor Ford about their new cookbook, Samarkand: Recipes & Stories from Central Asia & the Caucasus (Kyle Books; July 2016). Eden has written for the Guardian, the Telegraph and the Financial Times, among other publications, while Ford has been an editor for the Good Food Channel, BBC Food and the magazine Good Food and currently writes about restaurants for Time Out. How did this book come about? Caroline Eden: It was an idea I was percolating for a long time, since about 2009. Travelling in Central Asia, mainly as a journalist but sometimes for fun, I got fed up with guidebooks dismissing the food in the region as “survival fare.”

For the last few months we’ve been obsessed with finding the best tacos de guisado in Mexico City. This is not an easy task because these types of tacos are abundant in a city where people are always on the lookout for inexpensive and fast eats. We have tried some amazing tacos de guisado throughout the years, but we keep finding new and delicious places in a city that never fails to impress us. A few months ago we started going to the Saturday Sullivan market for just one reason: eating breakfast at Los Barriles, a booth that sells between eight and 10 different types of tacos de guisado – usually ready-made stews served atop a tortilla – at a time.

When Didem Şenol decided to open her first restaurant on an out-of-the-way street in the then-sleepy Karaköy neighborhood of Istanbul, the young chef’s friends thought she was making a huge mistake. “They said, ‘Are you crazy? There’s nothing there, no one will go there.’ But Karaköy was close to my home in Galata, and I enjoyed the historic feeling of all the old buildings there,” Şenol reminisced last month over coffee at her deli/café Gram in Şişhane, another formerly sleepy Istanbul neighborhood. “I thought if we made good food, people would hear about it and come.” Her gamble paid off.

For those of us who like a long, boozy lunch unimpeded by thoughts of going back to work – at least once in a while – there is no better place for it than a Mexico City cantina. Although they are mostly no-frills establishments lit by fluorescent bulbs, cantinas have as much personality as London pubs, Paris cafés or New York bars.In a far from egalitarian city, they are the most democratic institutions. Anyone who can afford the price of a drink (which limits the population drastically) is welcome. Cantinas draw their biggest crowds in the traditional Mexican lunch hour, anywhere between 2 and 5 p.m., and a meal in one is usually a drawn-out affair.

Fun fact: More than 70 percent of the meat eaten in China is pork. And while stuffing yourself with xiaolongbao and hongshao rou is a must when eating in Shanghai, it can be nice to have a respite at halal restaurants like Miss Ali. Yan Ali, the owner and namesake of the restaurant, arrived in Shanghai from Xinjiang – China’s predominantly Muslim province in the country’s far northwest, where she previously hosted TV shows. Ali didn’t like the way her native cuisine was often represented in Shanghai – with waiters robed in garish “costumes” and performing songs and dances from their region – and decided to create a more accurate representation of the restaurants of Xinjiang.

Each morning, 82-year-old Giorgos Chatziparaschos’s bicycle pedals clank and echo down the cobblestone streets of the Venetian-era port city Rethymnon, on the island of Crete. For almost 60 years, he’s parked his bike in front of a 17th-century building where a simple hand-painted sign reveals his family name and his family business. By eight o’clock he has donned his apron and hat, and with the steely determination that underlies his work ethic, he begins to roll out the dough. Chatziparaschos is one of the only pastry makers in Greece specializing in handmade kataifi. The traditional phyllo pastry looks like shredded wheat, with strands as thin as vermicelli.

Fonda El Refugio is a name that you will likely come across when looking at guides to Mexico City. The small restaurant in Zona Rosa, a popular tourist destination, has been serving authentic Mexican food for more than 57 years. Politicians, artists, writers and all kinds of celebrities have dined here over all those decades. Renowned writer Octavio Paz chose this restaurant’s food for his banquet with the Mexican president after receiving the Nobel Prize in literature in 1990. However, in recent years the quality of the food took a turn for the worse, and this iconic restaurant’s reputation took a major hit.

The 2010 makeover of Tbilisi’s old town broke the hearts of many locals and preservationists, who lamented the destruction of the neighborhood’s original 19th-century buildings and the fabrication of their cinder block replicas. The quarter hadn’t seen destruction on such a scale since the Persian ruler Agha Mohammad Khan razed the city in 1795. Instead of bemoaning the architectural tragedy, one local artist seized the opportunity to inject some positive vibrations into the precipitous hillside district by purchasing a small house underneath the 16th-century walls of the Narikala Fortress and turning it into one of Tbilisi’s coolest cafe-restaurants. Getting there, however, requires a bit of cardiovascular effort.

Despite the 1970s-era sign outside that says Granja (farm) and the red letters spelling “Bar” inside, you can’t really tell what this place is until you open the menu: a temple of “neighborhood haute-cuisine.” The food at Granja Elena sounds simple but tastes rich and complex. The restaurant is a family business, now run by the third generation – Borja, Patricia and Guillermo Sierra Calvo – in the same barrio in which it was founded in 1974, La Marina del Port. This modern neighborhood is part residential and part industrial, a bit far from Barcelona’s center, located near the merchant port behind Montjuic and on the way to the airport.

Urfa's old city is an invigorating array of tones and sounds. Dominated by an intriguing maze of narrow streets, the buildings all share the same sun-baked sandy hue, suggesting that they rose up from the earth on their own centuries ago. Landscape and cityscape blend into one here, and cars are outnumbered by ornately painted motorbikes equipped with sidecars, vehicles perfectly equipped to navigate roads too narrow for vans and sedans. Older men don poşu scarves of varying color combinations, and Arabic is spoken more frequently than Turkish. Believed by locals to be the birthplace of Abraham, Urfa is known as the “City of Prophets.” The municipality proudly advertises this fact.

There are times when food is just so profoundly, soul-satisfyingly good that we find it difficult to divert our attention enough to do the socializing often required when eating out with company. The folks who devised Ichiran Ramen must have taken that into account when they set up shop. Their concept is to offer complete personal space so that customers can give their undivided attention to the Hakata-style ramen served there. Imagine being encouraged to loudly suck up your ramen in the privacy of your own personal counter “booth.” Nobody really knows or cares who’s there, and whatever slurping happens there stays there.

As one approaches the port of Ermoupolis (named after Hermes, the god of commerce), the main town of the island of Syros and capital of the Cyclades, one cannot help but marvel at its beauty and grandeur. Imposing public buildings and private mansions, marble-paved streets, a large Italian-style piazza and numerous churches make the city one of the best preserved examples of 19th-century architecture in Greece. This should not come as a surprise: in the aftermath of the 1821 Greek War of Independence from the Ottoman Empire, Syros developed into an important commercial, cultural and industrial center, as refugees from Asia Minor, Chios, Crete and other areas found a safe haven from the war on the small island.

One of the most popular kinds of restaurants in Greece is the mezedopoleio, which, as the name indicates, specializes in traditional local meze dishes (washed down with generous amounts of ouzo or other alcoholic drinks). Back in the day, mezedopoleia were the neighborhood’s meeting points. Men gathered there most of the day to drink, have a bite, talk politics and play backgammon, chess or cards. Today, the mezedopoleio remains a simple and very affordable place to eat, sometimes operating as a kafenio (cafeteria), and often offering traditional live music to add to the experience. Among Greek cities Thessaloniki is particularly famous for its numerous and excellent mezedopoleia, which makes it very difficult to choose just a few.

You sit down for a meal with family or friends, and no one can decide what to order. Well, some can, some can’t, and it goes on for ages. The waiter stiffens when you ask one more time for her to come back. But go to the basement restaurant of Shavi Lomi in Old Tbilisi, and you have the answer for dithering relatives and pals: the gobi, or “Friends’ Bowl,” filled with a colorful selection of classic Georgian dishes. The word shares the same root as the Georgian word for “friend” – megobari – and so, of course, a gobi bowl is for sharing. It’s a big wooden bowl, filled with a mix of different dishes and as many spoons as you need.

After almost a century of desertification, it’s sometimes hard to believe the state of downtown Lisbon – Baixa – today. Hotels, startups, boutiques and restaurants are exploding up and down these long, narrow avenues, originally modelled on 18th-century Parisian thoroughfares, and all but abandoned by the 1990s. As the few remaining owners of the old light fittings shops and cheap canteens pray to the gods of damage limitation, a few of the new businesses do fit well into the surroundings. Japanese canteen Tasca Kome is one of them. Like all typical Portuguese tascas – traditional taverns and bars that serve food – the atmosphere at Tasca Kome is cozy and friendly.