On our Plaka walk, this four-legged friend was begging for food, so we couldn't help but share some of our sheep's milk yogurt. We are expecting more animal followers on our Athens walks from here on out.

Whether you call it steamboat, hotpot, Chinese fondue or shabu shabu, one thing is certain: Nothing warms you up in the depths of winter like a steaming bowl of bone broth. As winter continues its dreary hold, here are five of the best places to get hotpot in Shanghai.

We crept down an almost unmarked flight of stairs, then through a dim, winding corridor and finally pulled back a noren curtain to find ourselves in the world’s only Ippudo ramen location that serves soba noodles instead of ramen. As we seated ourselves on stools around the U-shaped counter, the aroma of tonkotsu (pork bone) broth reached our sinuses and informed us that we had arrived in a place like no other. Shigemi Kawahara opened his first Ippudo ramen shop on the southern Japanese island of Kyushu in1985 and over the next 15 years became a revered ramen master by winning numerous ramen championships on TV.

Deservedly famous for its rich food traditions, the state of Oaxaca is one of our favorite culinary destinations in Mexico. But with Oaxaca City lying nearly 300 miles southeast of Mexico City, we’re always on the lookout for places to satisfy our appetite for Oaxacan cuisine in the D.F. Specializing in tlayudas, one of Oaxaca’s most typical foods, the recently opened Aguamiel is a very welcome addition to the local dining scene.

Palanca Gigante is an Angolan tasca in multicultural Mouraria, Lisbon’s medieval downtown district. The restaurant is named after a critically endangered species of antelope (the palanca negra gigante, or giant sable antelope) that was adopted as an Angolan national symbol after that country’s independence from Portugal in 1975. Though regular Portuguese tascas – no-frills eateries – in Lisbon are far less endangered, it is harder to find authentic food from Portugal’s former colonies at such approachable prices in the city center.

For more than a year, we’ve been trying to find a way to approach the mammoth subject of Spanish wine with a suitable culinary activity. Barcelona has a sophisticated wine scene representing the best of Catalonia and all of Spain. In sober rooms, we attended tastings that were a bit too academic for our taste. We visited new-age wine bars with a list limited to Catalan bio/organic wines and nothing else. In Barcelona’s many wine shops, we sampled when we could and shopped for bottles, as we might in any international city. During this research, we got up close and personal with what was in the glass but often felt disconnected from the local culture of drinking wine.

Arataca boasts a title so extraordinary that, were it more widely known, we would expect the modest Copacabana snack bar to be covered with colorful Nossa Senhora do Bonfim blessing ribbons so that generations of pilgrims could light white, tapered candles and lay baskets of offerings at its sidewalk entrance. That designation is: First Açaí – the Amazonian superberry – served in Rio de Janeiro. Local lore says that the slushy, purple drink was first served here 59 years ago, and it was a hit. Nowadays, you’ll see cariocas all over the city with the drink’s trademark ink-stained teeth. Arataca was opened by two immigrants from the northeastern state of Pernambuco. One was in the military and, in his travels through Brazil, he developed a taste for the highly unique cuisine of the country’s north, particularly that of Pará state, considered the gateway to the Amazon region. Pará is also the cradle of the Amazonian berry açaí, which is sold in barrels at riverside marketplaces in the commercial and political capital of the state, Belém.

Offering some of the world’s purest, most passionately produced chocolate, along with some of the best coffee in Lisbon, Bettina & Niccolò Corallo on Rua da Escola Politécnica in the Príncipe Real neighborhood has changed the tastes and habits of many locals. There’s no milk chocolate available at this family-run shop, only dark chocolate. And yet Portuguese chocolate lovers – who have a notorious sweet tooth – will swoon when one mentions Corallo’s products. As for the coffee, area residents now wait until 10 a.m., when the café opens, to have their morning brew here.

This well-stocked spice stand is found at Tbilisi's Deserter's Bazaar, the city's largest open-air market which forms a central part of our newly-launched walk.

Peixnhos da horta is translated as little fish from the garden; they are actually deep fried green bean tempura and are sampled on our Lisbon Awakens walk. It is believed that tempura was actually introduced to Japan by the Portugese Jesuit missionaries.

Lisbon seems to be getting its groove back. Or at least, more people are taking notice of this city’s unique character and clearly taking to it. Recently, Vogue and The New York Times profiled the Intendente district, an up-and-coming neighborhood in the city center; Monocle magazine held its first “Quality of Life” conference in Lisbon; and many friends of ours, from Istanbul to San Francisco, are sharing beautiful photos of their latest trip to the city. Oddly, in a city on the upswing with such a rich culinary heritage, we found there was little storytelling on the subject of food and how it impacts Lisbon’s urban culture, be it in print, on the Web or on the ground (as in a tour or other guided experience).

Editor’s note: This is a new installment in an occasional series about where to wet your whistle in true Tokyo style. Every Tokyo neighborhood has its standing bars, usually near the train station. Azabu Juban’s most popular, Juban Stand, is located on a backstreet running parallel to the shoten gai shopping street. It spills out onto the sidewalk, where old kegs offer patrons the chance to drink a few beers while enjoying life on the street. Inside, a standing area snakes down the bar to the back, ending with a jumble of stools and stairs leading to a small balcony with a few wonky tables for those who prefer to sit and linger.

In the anything-goes lead-up to Lent, Carnival in Rio is as much about public inebriation and bawdy public displays of affection as it is about extravagant costumes and entertainment. It’s also a time when freelance moneymakers can largely evade municipal guards by dressing up in costumes as fanciful as any carnivalgoer while they sell their homemade alcoholic concoctions unlicensed. Carnival is early this year – Ash Wednesday is February 10 – which means the city’s sinning is in full swing from now onward. Culinary Backstreets scouted out some of the alternative alcohol options you’ll find on the streets this time of year, ones both classic to hundreds of themed street-party blocos and some that seem to be one-of-a-kind offers.

In the era of such food crazes as the “cronut,” it seems that every city has its own classic fried-dough treat that is now being reimagined, and in Athens, loukoumades (think of them as the Greek predecessor of doughnut holes) seem to be getting a major overhaul as of late. Why revamp such a perfect childhood classic, you might ask? Loukoumades are considered to be one of the oldest recorded pastries (and desserts, for that matter) in the world – in fact, the ancient Greek poet Callimachus and philosopher Aristotle wrote about these bite-sized, fluffy fried-dough balls. The triumphant winners of the first Olympic games in ancient Greece were the ceremonious recipients of xarisioi plakoi (χαρίσιοι πλάκοι), or honey gift-cakes.

Watching residents of Paquetá Island between the turnstiles and gate to get their ferryboat home from Rio’s central Praça XV port is like watching horses chomp at the bit before their stable doors are opened. The 5,000 proud homebodies of Rio’s little car-less island in the center of Guanabara Bay are anxious to get back to it, often pulling tall shopping carts stacked with beer and snacks. There’s only one small grocery store on the island and what gets here, gets here by boat and human hands. The ferry is a destination as much as a journey for those who want to appreciate one of Rio’s most unique little corners. You’ll question the quiet here and remember that this city of 14-lane highways is set to a constant soundtrack of engines and “PORRA!” (Pronounced POU-hah, this is a ubiquitous carioca curse you’ll hear when someone’s mildly upset or surprised, a much saltier version of “damn it!”)