The manousheh (plural manaeesh) is one of the defining staples of Lebanese food. In a country known for its divisions, the universally loved manousheh might be the breakfast food that unites all Lebanese. A manousheh is a round flatbread cooked in a big oven or on top of a saj (a domed oven prevalent in the Levant), traditionally topped with zaater (a mix of thyme, olive oil, sesame seeds and sumac) or salty white akawi cheese. Manaeesh can be sliced or folded and, much like pizza, they can be thin or thick. In modern times, toppings have come to include a whole range of different ingredients, and there are even now dessert manaeesh that are topped with Nutella. Manaeesh are so popular that there is not one neighborhood, town or even remote village where they are not made.

It might sounds sacrilegious, but when we’re in Berlin, döner isn’t our go-to street sandwich. Though it is widely believed that the German capital is the birthplace of the beloved sandwich, that fact alone does not provide citywide quality assurance. The rapid ascension of the döner sandwich as the city’s eminent fast-food staple has unfortunately resulted in its mass production, which means one is likely to encounter a nondescript rotating wheel of frozen mystery meat. This isn’t to say that excellent yaprak döner (a carefully crafted cylinder consisting of freshly layered cuts) cannot be found in Berlin. But the way the sandwich is dressed in this city – with a variety of vegetables, sauces, cheese and fresh-squeezed lemon or lime – is indeed conducive to covering up the taste of boring meat.

Nicosia’s Old Town grabs your senses in many different ways. You still enter it through 16th-century Venetian walls. Wander its narrow streets and you’ll see architectural shadows of the Ottoman, French and British regimes that have ruled Cyprus over the past 500 years. Turn a random corner and you’ll hit a fierce-looking razor wire and oil drum barrier with an overgrown and abandoned buffer zone beyond, reminding you that this is Europe’s last divided capital, in stasis since 1974, when a short-lived coup aimed at uniting the island with Greece sparked a Turkish invasion of the northern third of the island.

In Berlin, there is no shortage of meatless options, and vegetarians can even rejoice in a seitan-based döner kebab that is given the proper spit roast. What did surprise us is that the ubiquity of vegetarian diets in the city has greatly impacted one version of a meat-centric Turkish street food classic. Toros Tantuni is a small stand that occupies a rather lonely corner of the central part of the Kreuzberg district, a place once inhabited by a ragtag mix of immigrants, squatters and activists, ignored by most Berliners who could afford to live elsewhere. In recent years, however, the area has been thoroughly spritzed with the essence of gentrification and has a flood of innumerable bars, coffee shops and boutiques.

Although it lags behind other Mediterranean countries in terms of production, Lebanon still boasts a considerable wine culture and nearly a dozen wineries. And because the country was part of the French mandate as well as being a large tourist hub in the Levant, wine is featured heavily in many restaurants and stores here. Beirut even hosts a yearly wine festival to promote its own viniculture. Much of Lebanon’s wine is produced in the Bekaa Valley in the eastern part of the country, but there is a growing number of boutique wineries perched upon the beautiful mountains not far from Beirut. A spur-of-the-moment road trip took us to one such property: Chateau Belle-Vue in the Mount Lebanon village of Bhamdoun.

The kumru sandwich – a specialty of Turkey's Aegean coastal resort district Çeşme – is one of our top guilty pleasures. It comes as heavy on the guilt as it does on the pleasure, with its sodium-laden, coma-inducing blend of grilled hot dog strips, salami slices and buttons of garlicky sucuk topped with melted kaşar cheese, fresh tomatoes and pickles served on a grill-toasted roll somewhat resembling a turtledove (kumru in Turkish).

Winter in Cape Town is a wildly gentle season. Freezes are rare in the peninsula city. Instead, the coolest months of the year are defined by rain – sheets of it. Fields and forests and mountainsides turn deep green after the dry summer. Streams rush with tea-colored mountain water, pools form on the flats where arum lilies bloom in profusion, and by late winter, spring flowers are opening in the days of sunny blue sky between rain squalls.

In South Africa, many roads lead to boerekos. We chose the N7, the tar artery connecting Cape Town and Namibia. After winter rains, the barren land along the way – known as Namaqualand – bursts into spectacular, botanical hotspot bloom. The floral diversity here is unique. Also unique is the local food.

The end of summer in Lebanon can be tricky. Sometimes it begins to rain in September, causing our favorite summer places to close early; other times it stays hot and humid almost until December. While it’s still hot out, locals seek out one of the treasured regional deserts, booza. At first glance, it seems like ordinary ice cream, but the minute you scoop it up you soon realize this frozen ice cream has a gum-like stretch. Booza is typically known as Arabic ice cream and is made with mastic gum, which prevents it from melting quickly in the hot summers we usually face. Unfortunately, many of the more traditional booza shops have given way to overpriced gelato parlors that serve extremely sugary ice cream to mask their artificial flavors. Few remain that serve traditional Levantine ice cream made with fresh fruit and cream. Ask anyone where you can find this delight, however, and they’ll point you to Hanna Metri.

In a country where people gather around outdoor braais (barbecue grills), chowing down boerewors (farm sausage), steaks and walkie talkies (chicken feet and heads), most would think a South African vegetarian would be an anomaly. On September 24, Cape Town will celebrate Heritage Day, which was recently also declared National Braai Day. Even Archbishop Desmond Tutu has become a “Braai for Heritage” supporter. The idea is that South Africans, once separated by law, can unite around a common national heritage of grilling meat, irrespective of politics, race and culture. Mealies (corn on the cob) are always welcome on the grill, but there’s yet another, more veggie-oriented side to South Africa’s “heritage.” Home to the greatest population of Indian descent outside India, South Africa has one of the largest concentrations of Hindus in Africa. Due to British colonial history, a large number of Indian traders and enslaved workers arrived in the country in the late 1800s. Even Gandhi spent his formative years on South African shores. And in a historically Indian neighborhood of Cape Town, a culturally vibrant street offers vegetarian delights whether or not there’s a shisa nyama (braaiing meat) public holiday.

An iconic Middle Eastern dessert, knefeh is to Lebanon what waffles are to Belgium. There are no records of its origins, but according to local legend the cheese-filled pastry comes from the Palestinian town of Nablus, and now it exists in different variations around the region, including in Lebanon.

Fresh fish caught daily in the icy Atlantic Ocean – this is the key to the longtime success of Kalky’s, the original fish and chips restaurant in the seaside village of Kalk Bay, one of South Africa’s oldest working harbors. In the summer of 1996, the Rosslind family started this small takeout café serving satisfying fried hake (cod) and snoek (mackerel), with fish supplied by the local fishermen of Cape Town’s Kalk Bay. Kalky’s size and menu have since grown, reflecting the harbor’s rich cultural and nautical history. But it remains a no-frills, no-fuss seafood spot, where utensils are optional and cash is king.

Breakfast in Beirut can be a lavish affair and would make even the Ottoman sultans of old jealous. Although Beirut is known as a 24-hour city, with a lively nightlife scene fused with an endless amount of social gatherings, people still find time to enjoy a long morning meal with loved ones on weekend mornings. The ingredients of Lebanese breakfast foods are quite simple – chickpeas, yogurt, eggs, tahini, lemon juice, ground meat, bread and olive oil – and are assembled in a number of ways that make breakfast something not to be missed while in Beirut.

In Delhi the heat has enveloped everything. And refreshing drinks, made from short- and long-lived seasonal fruits, have arrived on the streets.

New to the city, migrants turn to making and selling low-overhead-cost street foods. The daily street fare is as diverse as the individuals serving it and varies from season to season.