San Gregorio, located in the southernmost part of Mexico City, is a pueblo originario (“original pueblo”), a designation given by the government to towns that have held onto their traditions. One of those traditions in San Gregorio is growing produce in the chinampería, an ancient agricultural system comprised of man-made islands crisscrossed by canals. People who farm there are called chinamperos. One of the prized crops in this area is the small, spicy chile chicuarote, which has been grown exclusively in the pueblo for centuries. People living in San Gregorio Atlapulco are so enamored with the tiny chile that they proudly call themselves Chicuarotes.

You don’t have to look far to find a glass of wine in Lisbon. But a unique glass of wine – perhaps something made by a small producer, or a bottle from an obscure region – in a comfortable or perhaps even trendy atmosphere, poured by someone who can explain what you’re drinking? That’s where it gets tough. But Lisbon can deliver. In recent years, the city has seen an explosion of wine bars. If we broaden the term, these could include restaurants with forward-thinking wine lists such as Insaciável, Senhor Uva, Tati and Sem. But we wanted to focus on venues that, in our opinion at least, prioritize bottles and glasses over plates.

One of the most powerful and restorative culinary combos enjoyed in Mexico is, without a doubt, seafood and micheladas, delicious concoctions made with beer – usually lager – and a mix of sauces, lime and spices, which can go from zero to quite spicy. A michelada is one of those drinks that it is often judged a priori but loved after the first or second taste. The mix of a light beer and the power of spices create a wonderful balance that, when served with fresh seafood, can refresh and restore us on a hot summer afternoon or after a long night out. During weekends, it is very common to see groups of people looking for seafood and beer menus all over Mexican cities.

An old star from the previous century still shines brightly in Port Vell. Renovated in 1992 and again in 2016, La Estrella 1924 is a classic restaurant that serves simple, refined Catalan dishes, thoughtfully prepared from quality local products. The atmosphere is formal but relaxed, quiet and friendly, and time is kept by the discreet sounding of the clocks hanging upon the wall. It feels like eating in someone’s home – and, in a way, it is. Josefa Chiquillo, great-grandmother of the current owner, Jordi Baidal, opened La Estrella in 1920 as a kind of travelers’ inn, located in the Born neighborhood near the old train station Estació de França.

Each year in late summer, some of the best athletes on the planet converge on Flushing Meadows Corona Park to compete in the United States Open Tennis Championships. In 2024, the U.S. Open begins with practice sessions and qualifier matches on Monday, August 19, and concludes with the men’s singles final, scheduled for Sunday, September 8. The tournament site does provide hungry fans with several cafés and casual bar-restaurants as well as a “food village.” But when in Queens – where some of the best food in the city is so close at hand – why would we confine ourselves to the boundaries of the tennis center? To energize ourselves beforehand or wind down afterward, here are a few of our favorite nearby dining destinations.

In the historic center of the city, nestled near the vibrant Vucciria market, lies a unique dining experience in Il Vizietto Bistrot. A former abattoir, the space has been transformed into a restaurant that beckons patrons in search of a delicious meal. After all, the name Il Vizietto means “bad habit,” embodying the restaurant's philosophy – a place to indulge, to enjoy, anchored by a carefully curated menu filled with Sicilian staples. Sisters Maria, Karima and Rosaria Ferrante opened Il Vizietto Bistrot in 2020, and the project has survived several challenges, a global pandemic among them. Maria, Karima, and Rosaria Ferrante even considered naming it Bordello – “che bordello” is a common way of referring to a real mess in the local vernacular – an ode to the chaotic process of opening their bistro.

In Neapolitan dialect, “È Pronto ‘O Mangià” means simply: “Food is ready!” It is the perfect name for Mattia Grossi’s trattoria, a small, unassuming space on via Cesare Rosaroll. We are welcomed to this family-owned restaurant with an undeniably warm atmosphere: stone walls lined with old photos and newspaper clippings, smiling waiters, music and chatter. È Pronto ‘O Mangià matches the simplicity of its name: nothing sophisticated, nothing gourmet – just true, homemade Neapolitan cuisine.

Traveling through Oaxaca, the impact of the mezcal boom is evident. In Oaxaca City, mezcalerias can now be found on almost every corner, while in the countryside rows and rows of freshly planted agave can be seen in fields that had previously been devoted to other crops. What’s harder to discern is the worrying impact this boom is having on Oaxacan agriculture and the local ecosystem. This past May, Real Minero and the descendants of Lorenzo Ángeles Mendoza, the brand’s founder, took an important step toward addressing this issue by inaugurating the first agave seed bank in Mexico, which they hope will help maintain both the agave plant’s diversity as well as help to preserve ancient farming methods.

At lunchtime, a line starts to form in front of Lu’s Garden in San Gabriel. Right in front of the entrance is a narrow walkway and a long counter with a line of buffet trays filled with braised pork, lap cheong (a type of dried, sweetened Chinese sausage) and more. Stacked behind them are bowls filled with more dishes like sautéed string beans and bok choy. The kitchen staff can be seen replenishing the various buffet trays seemingly every five to ten minutes, keeping them full as hungry patrons file through. Both dine-in and takeout customers choose their dishes based on what’s at the counter – there are more than enough options, as Lu’s Garden generally has fifty different dishes at a time.

In the bustling, dense, cosmopolitan neighborhood of Kurtuluş, the potential for discovery seems endless, as compelling stories and flavors lie behind unsuspecting doors. One of CB's tour guides and fellow urban explorer Benoit Hanquet recently tipped us off to a hidden gem, a place that, from the outside, is a totally nondescript, signless café that we have passed by hundreds of times over the years without ever noticing. Located next to a popular pizza place on the corner of Baruthane Avenue and Eşref Efendi Street, a buzzing area where a handful of bars, meyhanes, restaurants and cafés have popped up over the past few years, Özlem Cafe represents a nod to the neighborhood's past while offering an atmosphere and menu that distinguishes it from similar establishments.

It’s around noon on a Wednesday in Oaxaca, and we’re standing next to a huge, firewood-powered comal, that traditional Mexican clay griddle used to toast corn and cacao, blister tomatoes for salsa, melt stringy quesillo cheese inside the corn tortilla layers of a quesadilla, and so much more. Today, however, none of these more quotidian ingredients takes center stage on the blazing-hot, earthen red comal: Instead, Micaela Ruiz Martinez, 50, uses a small straw brush to sweep ants over the griddle’s surface, the insects dark, round rear ends resembling oversized black peppercorns. As a slightly herbal, slightly fruity aroma begins to waft up from the comal, Martinez, chef and owner of the bright, homey restaurant Luz de Luna (“Moonlight”), comments, “Chicatanas have a really unique flavor. There’s really nothing else like it.”

There’s no dish that signals in the arrival of spring and early summer in Georgia like the verdant tangy lamb stew called chakapuli. The spring dish, originally from the country’s wine growing eastern region of Kakheti, makes its seasonal debut at Orthodox Easter (or Paska) feasts that usually falls around mid-April. After a long, solemn period of reflection and penance when all meat (except the permissible fish) and pleasure are eschewed by the faithful, joyful cries of “Kristi Aghsdga!” or “Christ is Risen!” replaces standard greetings for a day of feasting and celebration. Families and friends (and lucky invited guests) gather around tables laden with all the classic staples of a Georgian supra, but the signature starter dish proffered is soup bowls of lamb (or veal) simmered in a rich white wine-based broth with fresh green tarragon, spring onions, green coriander, fresh young garlic bulbs and sour green plums called tkemali.

In a city where new restaurants and cafés – many directed at Lisbon’s new residents and digital nomads – pop up faster than we can keep track of, Gunpowder has set its sights on conquering the tastebuds of locals though Indian seafood dishes and spices. Harneet Baweja, originally from Calcutta, founded the original Gunpowder restaurant in London in 2015. A love for surfing drew him to the Portuguese capital, and he started making frequent trips to Lisbon and its surrounding beaches. “I absolutely love Lisbon, so it was a natural choice for me to open a restaurant here,” he says. “I fell in love with the city and the culture.” It was a love so strong that Baweja now divides his time between Lisbon and London, managing the several Gunpowder locations, while still chasing the waves of the Portuguese coast.

The flames of the late afternoon New Orleans sun flickered around Chef Chris Blanco like a piece of meat on the grill, the blistering heat a harbinger of the record highs that would soon engulf New Orleans and the Gulf South. But Blanco, a native of Bogota, Colombia, appeared cool as he carefully constructed arepas, topping the cheese-stuffed, cornmeal-dough disks with marinated grilled steak or chicken and a bright cilantro sauce. Fried plantains provided a welcomingly sweet counterpoint to the dense, savory arepas. It was the final show of the season at the Music Box Village in the 9th Ward, a quirky art installation of musical houses that can be played like instruments, and Blanco’s popular Colombian street food pop-up, Waska, was the featured food vendor, and he was busy.

Life can take some unexpected turns. This is how Adrián Rubio – originally from Aragón province, where he studied cooking – ended up in Barcelona. Perhaps it was the strong wind known as cierzo, which blows from the Pyrenees and down through his native land to the southwest , that carried him here to open a restaurant where the recipes change every day. A chef has to be tough and creative enough to face such a powerful force. Adrián Rubio is just that kind of chef, and he decided to name his new personal project, opened in 2017, after that wind.