“Lobio saved Georgia in the nineties,” quips Aleko Sardanashvili as he plonks a round clay pot of the simmering red bean stew in the middle of a loaded table of food. It groans under the weight of an assortment of Georgian feasting staples - khachapuri, lobiani, tomato and cucumber salad, sauteed potatoes garnished with greens, jonjoli salad, pickled chilies, fried chicken, tkemali plum sauce and more. We’re at Aleko’s marani (or wine cellar) in Racha – one of Georgia’s most sparsely populated regions, located in its northwestern frontier. It used to be a six-hour long circuitous route by car to get here from Tbilisi until a spanking new road launched last year cut travel time to Racha by 1.5 hours. Since then, visitor numbers have sharply increased to Georgia’s smallest wine region, a place that offers the ability to dip into family wineries in vineyards slung along the slopes of its lower valleys and drive up to high ridges for magnificent views of the snowcapped peaks of the Greater Caucasus massif, all in one afternoon – although the reverse order is more advisable, for obvious reasons.

When you think about where to send a visitor who is only in Athens for a week – or worse, only a night – it’s difficult to pick the perfect place. It should have wide-ranging hours, not only to keep the options open, but to ensure that those who dine early will be able to make it. It should be centrally located, but not too central, bringing the visitor to an area of the city they might not go to otherwise, but one that doesn’t require a car or an inconvenient bus transfer. The space should be pleasant, with inside and outside tables, and preferably stuffed with locals.

If there is one thing that we learned throughout our time in Diyarbakir, it is that everyone here has their favorite liver place. We traveled to this southeastern Turkish city in the hopes of discovering the “best liver,” the best example of the ancient city’s delicacy, but upon arrival realized just how insurmountable a task that was. Discovering the best liver in Diyarbakir is like trying to discover the best slice of pizza in New York. Instead, we contented ourselves with a sampling. We started our “liver tour” – as we came to call it – near the entrance to Sur, the ancient center of Diyarbakir (named Amed in Kurdish). Sur is a storied place – it has been settled since 7500 BC, according to archaeological records, and has housed empires from the Hittites, to the Persians, to Alexander the great.

When Tanka Sapkota, originally from Nepal, arrived in Portugal 25 years ago, Lisbon was a very different city. There were no Nepalese restaurants and the only momo people knew of at that time was the King of Carnival (Rei Momo). Tanka says there were only four people from Nepal in the country, including him. “And now there are around 20,000,” he says, smiling. He first came to Lisbon for two weeks before deciding to move in 1996. Three years later, he opened his first restaurant. However, he didn’t start with a Nepalese restaurant, but with an Italian one.

Allée Leon Gambetta is a street branching off from Stalingrad Square in Marseille’s Réformés neighborhood, located around the corner from Gare Saint-Charles which, like most train station areas, is a bit rough around the edges. Past the unemployed men working on packs of Heineken in front of the grocery store, regulars lingering at the sandwich joints and cafés, Golda shines like a beacon, her beach-yellow parasols almost airborne over the pavement of this tree-lined street of elegant, worn buildings. Flaunty Golda, newly opened in June 2022, is in fact a relaxed, pretty corner bistro with an ample terrace bordered by leafy plants.

Mushroom hunting has an irresistible, magical pull. Composer John Cage, an avid mushroom collector, found them an integral part of his creative process, once writing: “Much can be learned about music by devoting oneself to the mushroom.” Every fall, thousands of Catalans likewise find themselves under the mushroom’s spell, following the elusive fungus’s silent melody into the woods, a rustic wicker basket in one hand and – more and more these days – a GPS-enabled smartphone in the other. This practice is an old tradition in Catalonia that begins in the forest and ends at the dinner table. Nowadays, the tradition has become a hugely popular pastime for aficionados, called boletaires in Catalan.

High above the hills of Nice, past the crowded villages frequented by tourists, is the small commune of Saint-Jeannet. Nestled among the grand limestone baous (Provençal word meaning steep rock), Saint-Jeannet sits perched like a jewel with stunning views to the sea. Built sometime in the 11th century during the High Middle Ages, the village is privy to a beguiling history. There are prehistoric and oppidum sites amid the baous, hidden caves where villagers took refuge in times of trouble, and local lore of witchcraft. Fans of Alfred Hitchcock may recognize John Robie’s villa in scenes from the 1955 classic To Catch a Thief, starring Cary Grant and Grace Kelly.

Marcelle Bienvenue, the renowned Cajun food writer, wrote a cookbook called Who’s Your Mama, Are You Catholic, and Can You Make a Roux? These questions embody so much of life in Southern Louisiana, where kin, Catholicism, and cooking dominate the discourse. And while kin and religion are largely birthrights, making a roux is a learned skill, and one that often causes great trepidation. We cook our roux a little differently down here, and the worst thing you can do is burn it.

Grain de Sable is tucked into Rue de Baignoir, which runs under the skybridge of Marseille’s Alcazar public library, near the Vieux Port. The clientele for this excellent lunch spot is as local as it gets, and comes mainly from the library itself, particularly its 400-staff-member media center. Customers who come to Grain de Sable from farther afield hear about it de bouche à oreille (by word of mouth) and find a way to dart across the city from work to enjoy an organic midday meal. For visitors, this restaurant offers a simple, healthful, and inventive meal as a welcome pause from rich food offered in many Marseille eateries. ,

Pastel de tres leches is beloved throughout much of Latin America, and yet its origins remain a mystery. Some people claim that it was first baked in Nicaragua, others that the recipe was first printed on the label of a well-known brand of canned condensed milk in Mexico. Tres leches is usually a sponge cake soaked – as you might have guessed from the name – in a mixture of condensed, evaporated and regular milk, which might be flavored with vanilla, rum and cinnamon. The cake is baked and soaked in the milk mixture while it’s still warm and in the pan. It sits overnight so that the milk and flavorings thoroughly saturate every bite.

Piraeus – located about 10 kilometers south of downtown Athens – is not just the largest port of Greece, but it is also among the top five most important ports in Europe. Aside from the port, Piraeus covers a large area, some of which is residential and other parts which are more industrial. Though it may seem chaotic at first glance – especially for the many visitors who arrive at the port by ferry from a lovely little island and are shocked to suddenly find themselves in a grey city – the truth is that Piraeus hides a nostalgic flair and charm that is rare to come across in cities these days.

It might easily be mistaken for a hipster café. From the street in buzzing Shinjuku City ward, a large window illuminates an open kitchen where Yuichi Itoi, sporting a baseball cap, white T-shirt and piercings, is prepping ingredients. As we step inside, we’re greeted by the sound of low-key hip-hop and the chatter of two young couples sat at the counter, sipping drinks. Two men are at a table butted up against a bare brick wall, an open laptop amidst their plates. But this is no café. Tempura Dining Itoi is a restaurant born from chef-owner Itoi’s devotion to washoku – traditional Japanese cuisine. Except here, he’s doing things his way. 

When The Joint first opened on Ventura Boulevard in the summer of 2018, the concept of dry-aged fish was still very much unknown in Los Angeles, even though master sushi chefs typically age their tuna for a few days and have been doing so for some 400 years. At The Joint, though, owner and fishmonger Liwei Liao takes this a few steps further by dry-aging different types of fish and sometimes aging certain fish for up to three months. From salmon to mackerel to branzino, Liao has perfected the art of dry-aging fish over the years, and now he’s spreading the word.

The seaside district of Chiaia, perhaps best known for Via Caracciolo, a boulevard with sweeping views of the Bay of Naples, is the most elegant neighborhood in Naples. Long the seat of the Neapolitan aristocracy, the area is studded with Art Nouveau palaces, elegant boutiques, and Villa Pignatelli, a house museum with an impressive art collection. But our favorite corner of the neighborhood is Piazzetta Ascensione, a quiet little square at the top of Via Ascensione (the Latin phrase nomen omen, “the name [is] a sign,” applies here, so be ready for a climb). It’s so dear to us in part because there’s a small, charming restaurant just off the square, one with a very distinctive name: Cap’alice.

Horta, which means “vegetable garden,” is an old neighborhood in the hills of Barcelona. When it was still a vilage, it was known for its many water streams and resulting farms and vegetables. It is very close to Collserola Natural Park, a large green space in the northern part of the city. From the top of this park, you can enjoy incredible views of the city, and behind its skyline, the sea, far in the distance. But you don’t have to go far for great fish and seafood dishes. Horta’s authentic fish corner, El Racó del Peix, is the neighborhood go-to for amazing dishes direct from the market. Arturo Garzón and María José Millán are partners in both life and business, each with a long history in the market of Montserrat in the Nou Barris neighborhood. There, Arturo’s family has owned a fruit and vegetable stall for three generations.