The consumption of sake is a sacrosanct affair in Japan. In Japanese, the term “sake” technically denotes all alcohol, though it is often used interchangeably with the less ambiguous “nihonshu.” The true genesis of the island nation’s archetypal brew is lost to time, though the divine concoction of water, rice, yeast and koji mold likely originated, or at least became more standardized, sometime during the Nara period (710-784 AD) when Empress Genmei consolidated rule over an agrarian society. Most people in this fledgling nation state participated in animistic and ancestral folk worship, within which rice, and by extension nihonshu, came to play important ritualistic roles.

Wonderful spreads of the freshest catches are among the swirling array of visual delights witnessed on our Tokyo walk. Oh, did we mention there's lots of eating involved as well?

Despite being one of the liveliest of Lisbon’s neighborhoods, Alvalade doesn’t appear in most city guides. Maybe because of the location, north of downtown and next to the airport, with planes taking off and landing being part of the usual sights and sounds. Maybe because it is mainly a residential area, with few – if any – hotels available nearby. Maybe because it is seen as a strictly local neighborhood, with no museums, elevated viewpoints or places to listen to fado. But despite all that, it has a lot to offer, especially to those who want to eat, shop or simply roam the streets with the locals. Let’s focus on that first verb: to eat. In Alvalade, there are still plenty of places that offer traditional Portuguese food at traditional Portuguese prices: less than 15 euro per meal. Some of the neighborhood’s best tascas have been recently renovated, with a slight increase on the bill – nothing too hefty – but keeping the same old-style cuisine and the daily dishes that have been attracting a faithful clientele for the last few decades.

The rustic Neapolitan tarallo, made of 'nzogna (lard), pepper and toasted almonds, is a true delicacy. It can be considered the first popular snack in Naples, a bite that combines the punch of black pepper with the sweetness of almonds, the whole united by lard. It’s a dangerous combination for the waistline, that’s for sure. Taralli are offered to celebrate a new home, shared with friends during soccer matches, enjoyed with one’s significant other on the rocky shore, given to guests at parties, taken aboard boats (it’s the very height of yuppiness to eat them accompanied by iced spumante while out at sea). Until a few years ago, taralli were sold by tarallers, roving vendors who carried a basket full of taralli on their heads.

Like many other Egyptians, when Cairo Restaurant owner Magdy Hegad talks about khushari, his eyes glisten with an emotion akin to love – but when he talks about seafood, the glisten is elevated to something closer to religious fervor. “We do it differently,” he explains. “Just try it, and you will see.” We first ventured to Cairo Restaurant with an Egyptian friend eager to show us the delights of a cuisine we had learned little about, let alone tried. As we entered the restaurant, it became clear that this was to be a very different meal than what we had grown used to in dining around the city.

On June 20, Georgian Prime Minister Mamuka Bakhtadze signed a decree abolishing the Writer’s House of Georgia, Tbilisi’s leading institution of literary culture and the home of Cafe Littera, the restaurant that gave birth to the culinary revolution Georgia is currently going through. As soon as the ink was dry, the Writer’s House accounts were frozen and its directors were suddenly dismissed with only half a month’s salary. The fate of Cafe Littera is unknown. The story of the Writer’s House goes back to 1905, when philanthropist and father of Georgian brandy, David Sarajishvili, completed construction of an Art Nouveau masterpiece of a house to commemorate his 25th wedding anniversary to Ekaterine Porakishvili.

Stretched to translucence by a series of acrobatic, table-slapping wrist flips, then stretched just a bit further until it seemingly must tear under its own weight, the palata dough passes from the hands of Myo Lin Thway. In a moment, other hands take over. Perhaps they fill it with minced spiced chicken, for keema palata, or perhaps they fold it instead into an empty square, soon to be the conveyance for masala-red curry. After a brief interlude at the griddle, the flaky flatbread is surrendered to still other, hungrier hands. Myo, in the meantime, has swirled a little oil on his tabletop and patted down another wad of dough, pressing it wider and flatter until it, too, can take to the air.

At Pollería Fontana, a cozy restaurant inspired by the owner’s history in a poultry shop, it’s neither chicken nor eggs, but rather family that comes first. The name, which means Fontana’s Poultry Shop, is a tribute to the owner’s family business, a store selling chickens and eggs that was established by chef Nil Ros’ grandparents in 1935. But for the last six years, Pollería Fontana has been a contemporary, lovely little restaurant with an idiosyncratic personality in Gràcia, a fittingly idiosyncratic neighborhood that hosts Barcelona’s highest concentration of small independent restaurants. With old kitchenware and trinkets strewn about, numerous family photos in black and white hanging and a casual but warm atmosphere perfect for small groups and families, the space is like a contemporary tribute to the Catalan culinary neighborhood tradition.

As women in pink polo shirts conveyed steaming tureens, pungent earthenware crocks and freshly-baked sweet loaves, it was clear that the Azores’ celebration of the heavenly spirit had a strong component of earthy sustenance. We were at a função (function), a communal meal built around bread, wine and traditional meat dishes that forms a central part of the archipelago’s unique Holy Ghost festivities, which take place in villages around the islands over the 50 days after Easter. “This is one of the island’s most deeply respected traditions and it’s taken very seriously,” explains José Álamo Meneses, mayor of Angra do Heroísmo, a jaw-droppingly beautiful UNESCO World Heritage city on the island of Terceira. “Only around 10 percent here go to mass regularly, but they fill the churches on the day of the Holy Spirit,” he adds, before joining 250 fellow citizens for lunch in a hall hung with patchwork blankets in the hillside neighborhood of Bicas de Cabo Verde.

We spotted this colorful display of conservas (canned fish) at one of Lisbon’s finest traditional markets. The tinned fish industry is an old one in Portugal, dating back to the 19th century. The quality of the fish and the olive oil, plus the retro packaging makes it a delicious souvenir or gift.

We had heard about Kiwi Vegan Café even before a dozen thuggish carnivores raided the little vegan restaurant in 2016, munching grilled meat, smoking cigarettes, throwing sausages and fish at customers and starting a brawl that spilled out onto the street. The incident grabbed international headlines, setting the café as a battleground of Western liberalism versus Georgian nationalist extremism. Indeed, many Georgians fear their identity is threatened by “non-traditional” values, such as homosexuality, non-Orthodox religions and electronic music culture. In a land that boasts of its longstanding virtue of tolerance we are seeing a rise in neo-fascist groups and xenophobia.

We had heard about Kiwi Vegan Café even before a dozen thuggish carnivores raided the little vegan restaurant in 2016, munching grilled meat, smoking cigarettes, throwing sausages and fish at customers and starting a brawl that spilled out onto the street. The incident grabbed international headlines, setting the café as a battleground of Western liberalism versus Georgian nationalist extremism. Indeed, many Georgians fear their identity is threatened by “non-traditional” values, such as homosexuality, non-Orthodox religions and electronic music culture. In a land that boasts of its longstanding virtue of tolerance we are seeing a rise in neo-fascist groups and xenophobia.

Back at Culinary Backstreets Istanbul headquarters in 2012, every once in a while a conversation would arise about how çiğ köfte had emerged as a sort of fast-food franchising opportunity, with young entrepreneurial types starting up these meat-free meatball joints in all sorts of Istanbul neighborhoods. We all agreed it was much cooler than opening a KFC or an Orange Julius in the food court (though the former has been making its mark across the shopping malls of Turkey for a while now), and we were happy to see the ambitious souls of Turkey setting their sights on the bulgur meatball stand instead. The bespoke lokma shops and waffle bars may come and go, but çiğ köfte has its forever fans of all generations – and a new clientele now that it has caught on to its vegan marketing potential.

We spied a burst of green – different varieties of cilantro as well as other herbs – on our Queens walk. While the borough doesn’t have the same large markets as some of the other cities we operate in, you can still find plenty of smaller fruit and vegetable stands sprinkled throughout the area.

If you hadn’t read the flyer closely before heading to Shanghai’s first ever MeatFest last month, you might have been a bit disappointed upon arrival. The sounds and smells of sizzling meat might have seemed like a carnivore’s dream come true, but the name was tongue in cheek; the event was thrown by Vegans of Shanghai for “eco-conscious meat lovers” and served only domestically sourced plant-based “meat” products. It’s part of a bigger push towards eating a plant-based diet in China, where vegetarians make up less than 5% of the population. But even at such a low rate, that still comes out to approximately 50 million people (a population larger than that of Spain). Historically vegetarianism is rooted in Buddhist or Taoist beliefs but, like recently in the West, the meat-free lifestyle in China has become less about religion and more focused on health and being environmentally friendly – and millennials are leading the pack.