Manolo, the protagonist of Juan Marsé’s 1965 novel, Last Evenings with Teresa, possibly the saddest Spanish love novel ever written, spends a great deal of his time drinking and playing cards with the local elders in Las Delicias. Well known to locals and Marsé’s devotees but unknown to many Barcelonans, this bar was founded in the Carmel neighborhood in the mid-1920s using a natural cave that was turned into a bomb shelter built just below the republican air defenses during the Spanish Civil War (1936-1939). El Carmel, a working-class neighborhood on Rovira hill with spectacular views over the city, was home to the Andalusian, Galician, Aragonese, Castilian and Extremaduran immigrants who moved to Barcelona looking for brighter futures during the postwar years, the 1960s and ’70s. Las Delicias soon became their favorite local eatery, as portions were larger than usual. Decades later, portions are still very generous, the bar is still a neighborhood institution and the menu still reflects the origins of those who once settled down here. There are Andalucian specialties such as calamares a la andaluza (deep-fried squid, €6.50), morcilla de Jaén (pork blood sausage, €1.60) and pincho moruno (marinated chicken on a skewer, €4.50); Galician specialties like pimientos de Padrón (€5.25), lacón con cachelos (boiled pork shank, €7) and pulpo a la gallega (boiled octopus, €13.95); Aragonese longaniza (pork sausage, €5.25) and Castilian callos (beef tripe stew, €5.25).

The story starts with two successful business executives, dreaming of a drastic change in their lives. They turn to what they love, eating, and find a gaping hole in Istanbul’s restaurant scene. Until just a few years ago, you’d know where this story was heading – a research trip to Naples or Bangkok, followed by the opening of a limp pasta restaurant in the environs of İstinye Park or some other upscale shopping mall. But not this time. The heroes of our story set their sights on the city of Izmir and its offal-laden cuisine. Izmir folk love kelle söğüş (boiled sheep’s head, served cold) and kelle tandır (a roasted version). While in Istanbul these specialties are largely a novelty, in the busy downtown markets of Izmir you’re more likely to come across kelle than kebab. Your friends from Izmir will never post a photo of a sheep’s head on their Facebook page with a freaked-out-looking emoticon because, to them, tucking into a sheep’s head lunch is just everyday business as usual. And, in Istanbul, it seems, the Izmir way of lunch could be catching on.

With all the talk about the benefits of quinoa, chia seeds, goji berries and similar superfoods, we can’t help but be a little taken aback when Dolors, one of the owners of the restaurant Can Vilaró, explains the benefits of eating cap i pota, a traditional Catalan stew made with calf’s head and leg and chickpeas. According to her, the gelatinous chunks of meat make the skin glow and fight wrinkles. “It works as well as the most expensive collagen facial cream available at stores,” she says with a cheeky smile.

Kim Díaz, a well-known local restaurateur and owner of Bar Mut tapas bar and El Mutis cocktail bar, wanted to pay tribute to one of the most humble and sadly underrated Spanish snacks, the sandwich. Sandwiches are generally made by most Barcelonan bars with defrosted cheap bread and greasy fillings, and good ones are not easy to find in the city (though we have written about some great ones). Entrepanes Díaz opened last February with the goal of giving the sandwich the respect it deserves.

Stretching 25 feet alongside a pharmacy in the heart of Istanbul's Şişli district, just a three-minute stroll from Osmanbey metro station (Pangaltı exit), lies Uğur’s fruit and vegetable stand. Day in and day out, come rain or shine, Uğur sits and smiles, utterly engulfed by the fruits and vegetables he sells. Hundreds of people stop by his stand every day: family, old childhood friends, local politicians, tourists.

Each year at the end of May, more than 12,000 penyistes and 200,000 hungry visitors devour 12 tons of snails in one mere weekend in the city of Lleida, the capital of Catalonia’s interior. The Aplec del Caragol (“Snail Gathering”) is now an internationally known gastronomic event of impressive magnitude. Just under two hours inland from Barcelona by car and an hour by high-speed train, Lleida is an easy trip worth taking, especially in late spring, when friends and families gather to eat and drink with abandon. Typical foods prepared by the colles (gangs) of penyistes (participants) who register together and participate in the Aplec every year (sometimes for decades without fail) include paella, fideuà (a typical pasta preparation), grilled meats and sausages, stews and salads. However, the tender, tasty land snail is the main attraction.

You don’t need the excuse of a ferry departure to head for the port of Rafina, on Attica’s east coast. Its long, open beach is a favorite among windsurfers, its fish stalls carry the catch from most of the central Aegean and, most important, it offers a handful of excellent eateries. But how can you separate the standouts from the run-of-the-mill?

Editor’s note: To cap off our annual review of the year’s best eating experiences, we’ve unleashed our imaginations to create the Turkish food court of our dreams. After a period of protest, we finally broke down and visited the Zorlu Center, a new, high-profile shopping mall in Istanbul and a showcase of international brand names, from Fendi to Jamie Oliver. Our initial attraction was the promise of a particularly well-kept playground, but while we were there, we visited Eataly, the all-Italian culinary emporium.

Editor’s note: We asked writer Anya von Bremzen where she heads first for food when she arrives in Barcelona. She is the winner of three James Beard awards, a contributing editor at Travel + Leisure and the author of five cookbooks, including the recently published Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking: A Memoir of Food and Longing.Most Barcelona tapas haunts, old and new, pay homage to the bares de producto, the astounding ingredient-laden kioskos (dining stalls) of the buoyant Boquería market. It might be crowded and touristy but on my first morning in town, Boquería is still my Holy Grail. The best time to go? Around 10:30 a.m., when the stalls are less crowded between lunch and dinner. Right by its entrance, I stop to pay my respects to the legendary chickpea-and-butifarra sausage stew at Pinotxo. Its owner, the venerable Juanito Bayen, is now nearing 80 but looking dapper as ever in his satin vest and bow tie. Juanito is still a maestro of counter banter, spiking coffee with brandy for dour resident fishmongers, plying Japanese tourists with pristine razor clams, smiling for cameras next to Ferran Adrià.

Fried pig’s ears fortified with garlic and parsley, veal cheek and tongue laced with vinaigrette, hefty veal and pork meatballs, creamy artichoke or eggplant omelets or a hearty bocadillo of marinated tuna, red pepper, anchovies and olives: these esmorzars de forquilla, or “fork breakfasts,” are how a Catalonian might start his day – especially at Can Ros, a tapas-and-bocadillos joint that’s open every day from 7 a.m. until midnight. Office workers might drop by for a coffee at mid-morning, followed by the lunch crowd, which takes over from 2 p.m. to 4 p.m. Dinner, of course, lasts well into the night. It’s breakfast, however, that has made Can Ros most popular among locals.

Editor’s note: This is the final installment of “Best Bites of 2013,” a roundup of our top culinary experiences over the last year. Be sure to check out the "best bites" in all the other cities CB covers. Breakfast in Erzincan We were strangers in a strange land – eastern Turkey’s Erzincan, to be exact – and Yalçın Kaya welcomed us into his cheese shop with such gracious fervor that it didn’t surprise us to find out that this Anatolian cheesemonger moonlights as an imam.

To Petalo is probably the only place in Athens that offers a Sunday lunchtime buffet with homemade Greek food. It’s certainly the only all-you-can-eat brunch we know of that’s offered at the affordable price of €12, in a cozy yet slightly chaotic atmosphere that makes you feel like you’re eating in someone’s living room. And just as if you were at the house of a Greek friend, brunch at To Petalo is served in typically late fashion: Arrive before 2 p.m. and you’ll be waiting around for the food to be served.

There’s nothing like a debate about “urban renewal” – often touted by municipal governments as a way to repurpose run-down urban areas for gentrification – to work up a good appetite. In a city like Istanbul, a teeming metropolis of 15 million people working to build a modern life among ancient ruins, these discussions seem to occur on every corn