For the thirsty traveler looking to take a load off after – or during – a long day of exploring Mexico’s capital city, there’s no shortage of drink options. From a cold beer and salty snacks at a cantina to smoky, small-batch mezcal, to the ancient elixir that is pulque, it can be daunting to navigate CDMX’s drinking scene and pick out the best bars. Here are a few of our favorite spots, including mezcalerías, pulquerías and more, handpicked by our local guides over the years.

In the center of town on Rue de Lodi, Saskia Porretta-Menne and Jill Cousin were inspired when they learned that a former international bookstore was closing and the space was available. The Librairie Internationale Maurel had been in the same family for three generations and operated since 1952 in a room that felt as if from another era, its walls lined with time-worn wooden shelves and afternoon sunlight streaming in from the large windows. Upon viewing it, the two friends knew immediately that this place was unlike anything else. Unsure about exactly what they would do, they were still certain there was a calling. So in October of 2021, the women opened the doors to Provisions. The word provision, by definition, means “to supply with food, drink, or equipment, especially for a journey.”

My first job in Queens was in a garage in Auburndale. Not an auto body garage. It was residential – a guy named Arthur rented it out to store the goods he won at storage unit auctions. My job was to list those goods on Amazon and eBay, for which he paid me $100 a week, and an unlimited MetroCard. It was 2012. I’d take the q66 from East Elmhurst to Flushing on my way to work, and eat my way through the Golden Shopping Mall, where Xi’an Famous Foods had their first stall.

Deep in the Saburtalo district of Tbilisi there is a jasmine-covered arch that frames a faded blue entrance. Stepping under the fragrant arch and into this unassuming shop, you will find yourself in the only Iranian bakery in Tbilisi. Sun Bread offers three lovingly crafted bread products made by the owner, Milad Babazadeh, who has over 20 years of experience as a baker. The most popular and unusual item on the list is their barbari bread.

Whoever came up with the expression “I don’t give a fig” had obviously never tasted a Greek fig fresh off the tree. How figs, almost certainly dried, came to be considered common and worthless in late medieval England is a mystery, but for the Greeks, they have always been something to treasure and preserve, to be enjoyed in all seasons. As the Bible tells us, figs have been around since the very beginning. After taking bites out of the forbidden fruit, possibly an apple, Adam and Eve suddenly acquired the knowledge that they were naked and covered themselves with the leaves of the fig tree.

As the highway speeds out of Lisbon northward, the pastel apartment blocks of greater Lisbon’s northern sprawl give way to plots of farmland. It’s a road with no distinction, one not unlike countless others leaving cities elsewhere. Around 80 kilometers from Lisbon, the highway passes into the region of Oeste; although not readily apparent, Oeste is a place of great distinction. That becomes clearer a bit farther down the road, where on the side of a warehouse the words “Rocha Mundial” are printed beside the giant likeness of the region’s claim to fame, a green pear with light brown spots.

We know that spring has arrived in Mexico City when street carts crowned with whole mangoes begin to roll into town. While wandering the Centro Histórico’s bustling streets just last week, we bumped into Maria, a seasonal worker whose cart is currently laden with this favorite springtime fruit. Intrigued, we stopped to watch as she deftly skewered the mango in her hand with a stick, peeled off the skin, made decorative cuts to transform the bright orange flesh into a beautiful flower, which she then brushed with chamoy, a classic Mexican sauce, and dipped in one of the brightly colored powders stored in plastic boxes: salsa tajín, chamoy, salt, chile or everything mixed together.

When the Phocaeans founded Marseille in 6th century B.C., these ancient Greek explorers launched France’s long history with wine production and consumption. In the 1930s, southern France became famous for another kind of grape juice. In the southwestern town of Moissac, home of the Chasselas grape, Dr. Armand Rouanet touted the amazing health benefits of grape-seeds at his uvarium. At this first-of-its-kind center for grape-based therapies (uva is the Latin root for grape), people would consume a grape-only diet (2-6 pounds a day) to heal everything from cellulite to constipation. Ironically, this grape cleanse was ideal for detoxifying the liver, the organ most damaged by wine. This temple of grape glorification was such a success that dozens of stations uvales sprouted across the south of France to peddle the just-pressed grape juice alongside other fresh-squeezed fruit.

It’s finally hot in Mexico City. We’re smack dab in the middle of that two-month window between March and April that brings a dry, summer heat before the snow has even started to melt in some northern climates. The city is steaming, and chilangos are hunting down their favorite cool foods and the ubiquitous agua frescas sold in outdoor markets. We’re scouring the market, too, in search of our favorite hot weather treat, a cold chicozapote. A palm-sized oval with a rough brown exterior and an interior similar to a cooked pear in consistency, the chicozapote is not a fruit you find outside of many tropical or sub-tropical climates. Called a different name in almost every Caribbean and Central American country, this fruit and its cousins trail down the continent.

At any Portuguese pastelaria, the pastel de nata, Portugal’s famous custard tart, is only the tip of the iceberg. Lisbon, especially, is home to a host of bakeries both traditional and innovative, and a wide selection of sweet treats you can’t leave without trying. From lesser-known convent sweets like the elaborate ovos moles to Brazilian baked goods to chocolate made by master chocolatiers, there’s something for every sweet tooth in this city. Culinary Backstreet has you covered: Our local guides have handpicked the absolute best desserts in town, from pastel de nata and beyond.

Often overshadowed by the ubiquity, convenience, and utmost deliciousness of the classic pizza – in this case, specifically the street version called pizza a portafoglio (folding pizza) – is another typical Neapolitan street food whose history is linked to the royal family: the parigina. Commonly sold, already cut into generous rectangular portions, found in bakeries, simple eateries, and deli shops, this is a different take on the Neapolitan savory tradition. The parigina tantalizingly combines various layers of flavors and textures: a variably thick leavened dough at the base, a well-calibrated filling of tomato sauce, mozzarella cheese, and baked ham in the middle, and a thin and flaky puff pastry to cover it all.

For a large part of the world, eating cold noodles is one of the best ways to beat the sweltering heat of the summer, whether the strands are served with a dipping sauce or sitting in an ice cold broth. The history of cold noodles may not be as well studied as the history of the noodle itself, but we can imagine people have been eating cold noodles for as long as noodles have been around when the weather warms up. Somen is believed to be the oldest Japanese noodle (circa the 700s) and is typically served cold with a dipping sauce. In Korea, a cold noodle soup called naengmyeon has been around since the Joseon Dynasty (1392-1897).

When you walk into Sammy’s Food Service & Deli at lunchtime, it might look like you’ve entered the scene of an emergency. The atmosphere is buzzing as a collection of police officers, firemen, and military personnel fill the modestly-sized dining area. “There are post office workers, too!” added Sammy Schloegel, who has co-owned this Gentilly eatery with his wife, Gina, since the early 1990s. “We give all government employees twenty percent off,” he laughed, “so that probably helps bring them in.”

Matosinhos, it could be said, has seen better times. In its heyday, the semi-industrial-feeling port city just north of Porto was once home to 54 fish canneries. Today, only two remain. Along the city’s wide, empty-feeling streets, some of the city’s former factories and their graceful Art Nouveau facades have been reappropriated as other businesses – we saw more than one startup – while in many cases, they have simply been abandoned. But at Pinhais, one of those remaining canneries, it feels like little has changed. As it’s done since 1920, having weathered both good and bad times in Matosinhos, the company is producing some of the best tinned seafood in Portugal. Before World War II, there were 152 fish canneries in Portugal. But in the 1960s, advances in refrigeration led to a crash in tinned seafood production (for more on the history of Iberian tinned seafood, see our previous article about conservas in Galicia, Spain).

There was a time in Istanbul when we had to go to a small international bus station in the Aksaray neighborhood to find Georgian food. There were a few different eateries in the area, but usually what brought us there was a shabby hole-in-the-wall up a flight of rickety stairs in a corner of the station, which generally catered to Georgians about to embark on a two-day bus trip back to their country. The food was decent, the service was surly at best, the atmosphere was shady (we and others had our phones stolen by other customers in the middle of dinner) but above all, they sold chacha,the flagship Georgian spirit distilled from the remnants of grapes used for wine.