Marseille

Couleur Grenade: An Armenian Tale

Order a grenadine in France, and you’ll get a glass of bright red syrup made from pomegranate to sip with water for a refreshing quaff. In Armenia, the grenade – pomegranate – is a national icon, depicted in art, consumed at meals and made into a local liqueur. Stemming from the country’s ancient mythology, the grenade symbolizes fertility and abundance, making it a fitting name for Couleur Grenade, a female-owned Armenian restaurant in Marseille. From stuffed eggplant to tchi kefté (beef tartare), Couleur Grenade offers a lexicon in Armenian cuisine. Growing up in Lyon, the restaurant’s owner, Gayane Doniguian was French at school – her friends called her Delphine – and Armenian at home. Cooking with her grandmother at an early age sealed her love for Armenian cuisine.

Barcelona

Berbena: Back to Basics

At first glance, Berbena, a restaurant in Gràcia, resembles a small, pretty tree with dazzling foliage – it offers a sophisticated and complex dining experience. But the restaurant’s delicate attributes, those pretty leaves, wouldn’t be possible without a carefully tended trunk and roots. In short, the basics matter, something that its creator, chef Carles Pérez de Rozas, decided after years spent in high-end kitchens. Carles had a culinary education par excellence: After studying at the prestigious Hofmann School, a culinary institution in Barcelona, he worked at several Michelin-starred restaurants in Catalonia, such as Drolma, Saüc, and Carmen Ruscalleda’s iconic Sant Pau. A job in the restaurant at the Hotel de Ville de Crissier brought him to Switzerland; he then spent a short and intense period in France with the great chef Michel Bras. In Japan, he trained alongside Seiji Yamamoto, in his Tokyo restaurant Nihonryori RyuGin, adding more notches of refined knowledge to his belt.

Marseille

Laiterie Marseillaise: Cheese and the City

For all its culinary riches, Marseille is not a mecca of cheese. France’s famous fromage regions are found where the cows roam – like Normandy and the Auvergne. Marseille’s warm weather doesn’t quite whet one’s appetite for filling cheese, nor is it well-suited for the cooler temperatures that cheese-making requires. The biggest claim to Marseille cheese fame is the region’s lone AOC, the ultra-fresh chèvre, Brousse du Rove. Now, a new urban dairy is adding to that reputation. Located a few blocks up from the Vieux-Port, the Laiterie Marseillaise brings the craft of cheesemaking into the heart of France’s second-largest city. Normally, a fromagerie (cheese shop) buys its wares from a fromager (cheese maker.) Here, they are one in the same.

Oaxaca

Lazduá: Ices that Warm the Soul

Gathered in the parks of Oaxaca during the early 2000s, groups of high school friends, including our dear Roberto, would herald in the end of another school year and the start of a summer of easy living with refreshing nieves in hand. A cup of icy, colorful nieve marked the beginning of carefree afternoons and liberation from homework. Lined up in their wooden containers, the diverse and bright array of fruit nieves resembled the exuberance of the summer unfolding around us: the rich green of the trees, the gentle yellow of the afternoon sun and petricor – a beautiful Spanish word describing the subtle and comforting smell of moist earth after rain.

Queens

Fried Fellowship: Building Community around Loukoumades in Queens

Our first New York encounter with loukoumades was under a canopied table, in a church courtyard, at a Greek festival in Brooklyn Heights many years ago. The ladies who fashioned these dough fritters, one by one, seemed just as attentive to the behavior of their (mostly young) customers as they were to the cook pot. No tomfoolery, their expressions told us, or no loukoumades. Since then we’ve seen loukoumades at many similar events, most recently in late spring outside a Greek Orthodox cathedral in Astoria. A line of would-be festival-goers, who had endured month after month of Covid regulations and cancellations, stretched a considerable distance down the block. Food, we’re sure, was one attraction.

Tbilisi

Tartan: Take-Out Wizards

You are motionless, stuck in a traffic jam after a long day at work while your stomach growls. You know the rest of the family will be hungry when you get home and that the fridge is empty and sad. Shopping and cooking is out of the question, so you turn onto a Vera side street, zig-zag through one-way lanes to Tatishvili Street, double park, and run into a tiny gastronomic oasis that has been saving lives like yours for nearly a decade. Its name is Tartan. Located in a step-down ground-floor apartment, takeout cafeterias don’t get homier than this. The front room is taken up with a long counter of refrigerated display cases half filled with enough ready-made dishes to lay down a feast when you get home.

Istanbul

Climavore: Turkish Food Faces a Changing Climate

Turkey’s rich regional food culture reflects its diverse landscapes: seafood, olive oil and wild greens along the Aegean Sea; wheat- and meat-heavy dishes in the country’s heartland; corn, collards and anchovies on the rugged Black Sea coast. But with climate change altering the environments that produced those ingredients, what will happen to the dishes they inspired? Will the way people in Turkey eat have to change too? And if so, how? Those are the kinds of questions posed by CLIMAVORE: Seasons Made to Drift, a thought-provoking exhibition on display at Istanbul’s SALT Beyoğlu cultural center on İstiklal Caddesi until August 22.