Il Grottino (meaning “The Little Cave”) is a small wine bar located in an area of Naples still not explored by many tourists. Despite being situated in the heart of the old town, the upper Decumani area is off the beaten track and feels like a small oasis (hopefully for a long time to come). Here, we are just a few meters from the Naples Cathedral, and after feasting our eyes on its baroque beauty, Il Grottino is the perfect place to rest and enjoy a glass of wine and a bite. Il Grottino was born in 1980 thanks to Antonio De Luca 64, and his wife Maria, 61. When he was 10 years old, Antonio, the son of a carpenter, started working as a shop boy in a local delicatessen.

Naples’s Quartieri Spagnoli, the "Spanish Quarters,” are a part of the city with a long and tumultuous history. Founded in 1500, the Quartieri Spagnoli were created by Don Pedro De Toledo to accommodate the Spanish soldiers who were residing or passing through Naples. With the arrival of the soldiers, the network of narrow streets became a hotbed for illegal economic activities, from cigarette smuggling to drug dealing to prostitution, earning the district a bad reputation that stuck for centuries – even Neapolitans from other neighborhoods were afraid of entering the Quartieri Spagnoli. In recent decades, however, the atmospheric district has become one of the city’s tourist attractions, recognized as one of the centers of Neapolitan gastronomy as well as a place of craftsmanship, cultural and anthropological initiatives.

The last wood-fired coffee roaster in all of southern Italy is located, appropriately, in Bacoli. This area of Campi Flegrei, the Phlegraean fields of Naples (from the Greek word flègo, which means “burn”) is a part of the Gulf of Pozzuoli known since Roman times for its active volcanoes. It is here that Nicola Scamardella is carrying on his family’s tradition of roasting coffee with a wood-burning machine. Nicola is known in Bacoli as the son of Pasquale Scamardella, a man whose nickname was Pasquale della Torrefazione (“of the roastery”). In the 1960s, Pasquale and his wife Delia were working for a commercial coffee roaster in Naples.

Chef owner Angela Gargiulo calls her restaurant Buatta a trattoria di conversazione – a “conversation eatery.” Tucked in a peaceful corner of Vomero, the Neapolitan shopping district, Buatta is “…a conversation restaurant in the true sense of the word,” Angela tells us. “After cooking, and now that I have excellent collaborators [to help] in the kitchen, I have time to sit next to my customers; I talk to them at the table about the strangest things; it's as if they came over to my house.” Little by little, the restaurant (whose name, Buatta, from the French boite, is a Neapolitan word that means “jar”) has become a destination for those who love simple and quality cuisine, and for those who love to chat.

In the tiny Italian town of Cuccaro Vetere, some 150 kilometers south of Naples, villagers are surrounded by nature and an incredible variety of local fruits. The town, which is in Campania’s province of Salerno, has just over 500 inhabitants, and – even more than their nature’s bounty – these residents are known for one thing: their long lifespans.

There are flowers all around us. Seeds and plants are scattered here and there. Herbs and fresh fruits rest in wicker and reed baskets. Sitting amongst all this glory is Stefania Salvetti, who is telling us about Paradisiello, where she lives. Meaning “Little Paradise” in Italian, Paradisiello is where Stefania has a home with 2,000 square meters of greenery, citrus trees and even chickens. The big surprise? What sounds like a glorious village outside of Naples is actually a quarter within the city, very close to the historic center. Il Paradisiello is a small, romantic, peaceful place just a few meters from the noisy city. A site where time seems to stand still, the air somehow more rarefied.

Two-and-a-half kilometers of curves and narrow alleys at 150 meters above sea level. Breathtaking views overlooking the sea. A coast dominated by the blue of the sky and dotted with arabesque domes. All around is the unmistakable perfume of the sfusato amalfitano – the Amalfi lemon.

We climb up, arriving at the edge of the ancient Roman thermal baths of Baiae, which date back to the 1st century BCE. It has been pouring rain, but we see no standing water here. "We take obsessive care of the soil, and the water is cleverly drained just as our predecessors used to do it,” Luigi Di Meo, 61, tells us. Luigi is the owner of La Sibilla winery and vineyards, the grounds of which spreads out around us on this dreary day.

The requirements for a place to qualify as an authentic Neapolitan trattoria are simple: It must be tiny, intimate and quiet, with a small menu and a genuine atmosphere. In other words, it must be La Cantina Di Via Sapienza. This is not a trattoria with fake antiques strategically placed inside to draw tourists or chic Neapolitans looking for “aesthetic” culinary experiences. Rather, La Cantina Di Via Sapienza is a true neighborhood spot that serves meals to the employees and nurses of the nearby polyclinic, and to the students and professors from the various universities of the historic center.

Behind the counter at the modest Spiedo d’Oro, owner Vincenzo Monzo and his wife Cinzia have something welcoming to say to every customer who walks in. “The eggplant parmigiana will be ready in 10 minutes.” “The pasta and beans have just come out.” “Salvatore! You alone? No wife? We'll make you a plate of Genovese, and the gattò is on its way.” With a few spartan tables and a glass-lined counter where you can see everything that is available for lunch, Spiedo d’Oro is the definition of a no-frills joint. Like everyone around us, we’ve come here not just for the warm welcome but also for the simple but excellent Neapolitan dishes.

It is 1760 and on the throne in Naples is King Ferdinand IV. Pietro Colicchio has opened Pizzeria di Pietro e basta così, and the name says it all: “Pietro's Pizzeria and that's enough.” A restaurant strictly selling pizza, it will become known as one of Naples’ first pizzerias. As we move into the 19th century, Raffaele Esposito and his wife Giovanna Brandi take over Pietro’s, which is located on via Chiaia, the city’s “good sofa” as they say in Neapolitan, meaning one of the best and more elegant parts of the city. It’s here that Brandi Pizzeria creates a legend of its own, without the help of Pietro.

In Naples, the postale (mail ship) arrives from Palermo every morning and leaves in the evening for the return journey across the Tyrrhenian Sea. Forget about the sensational yet tired connection made between the two cities in the popular imagination – that of the Mafia in Palermo and Camorra in Naples. For us, the postale represents a far more interesting link: The “mozzarella and cannoli connection.” On the Naples-Palermo route, dozens of people can be seen transporting plastic containers holding mozzarella from the Campania region into Sicily. On the opposite route, cannoli and Sicilian cassata (cake) boxes abound. This trafficking of edibles reflects a gastronomic relationship that has long existed between the two cities.

Historically, Naples has not been a city with a large number of cyclists. Too many uphill battles from the historic center to neighborhoods along Vomero Hill make it a difficult location for the casual biker. In recent years, however, environmental consciousness has grown and we are witnessing a rapid development of places dedicated to pedal power lovers. With Culinary Backstreets working at the intersection of food and travel, it often happens that after our walking food tours, visitors ask advice on other ways to explore the city – particularly by rented bicycle. Today’s Naples dispatch is not just about a café’s culinary offerings, but a service that, in times of sustainable consciousness, is becoming increasingly popular.

Naples’ Forcella district is known throughout Italy for the starring role it plays in the drama that is the city’s underworld; many Camorra (Neapolitan mafia) members call the neighborhood home. Today, this district is experiencing a moment of redemption both artistic and cultural. The former can be seen in the murals and old, repurposed cinema houses, which have become venues for art exhibitions. The latter has unfolded with the renovation and reopening of the 110-year-old Trianon Viviani theater, which is focused on putting “Canzone Napoletana” – Naples’ homegrown musical genre – back on the map. But for many, Forcella is famous for being home to another Neapolitan institution: Gelateria Al Polo Nord.

We are inside the renovated Galleria Principe di Napoli, right between the National Archaeological Museum and the Academy of Fine Arts. Tables line a corner of the gallery’s beautiful interior, and the art-deco ceiling arches above us– to sit at Lazzarelle Bistrot is a real pleasure, for the eyes and the stomach. But this cafe is more than a pretty little gem in the newly renovated galleria. It is a project long in the making for the Lazzarelle cooperative, which has been promoting the social and economic inclusion of women inmates and working to reduce recidivism for about a decade. In Naples, a lazzarella defines herself as a restless, lively girl, while others may use the definition “little rascal."