It may seem absurd to tell the story of Sicilian gastronomic culture through typical American fast food favorites, but that is just part of the culinary richness of this island. This is the concept at FUD: Bottega Sicula, a restaurant that offers the likes of hamburgers, hot dogs, burritos, and fries, all with a distinctive Sicilian touch. From the local ingredients to the clever marketing, everything at FUD is a game of names and flavors. The idea was born in 2012, the brainchild of 47-year-old restaurateur Andrea Graziano. Andrea, originally from Catania, shares that he has always had a passion for cooking: after graduating, he worked for two years in England as a chef, a fate common to many Sicilians.

In early fall, Oaxaca’s landscapes are a study in green. Walking through the city’s colonial center, tall trees’ crowns explode in verdant glory, while vistas in the countryside are even more impressive, boasting an array of variegated grasses, deeply colored agaves, and, of course, stalk upon stalk of corn, heavy with plenty of ears of the country’s most prized aliment. It’s the end of the rainy season here in this southwestern state, the humid period that typically runs from June until October. And after a disappointingly dry season last year, farmers and home growers across the region are celebrating the success of their milpa, the ancient, complementary agricultural system of corn, beans, squashes, and wild and domesticated greens growing all together in interdependent and symbiotic harmony.

For many visitors to New York, the first sight of Queens comes from above, during the approach to JFK or LaGuardia, the city's two international airports. And the first thought, upon landing, is to keep going. How far is it, they wonder, to our hotel, and to the museums, theaters, shopping, and sights? How long till we get to "the city"? For culinary explorers, Queens is not merely a way station, it is a destination in itself. The largest in area of the five boroughs of New York City, Queens is the home of well over two million people, half of them born outside the United States, speaking untold hundreds of mother tongues. During the course of a day, we might hear a dozen languages without breaking a sweat.

Giovedì mezza giornata: “Half day on Thursday.” The writing in bold yellow and red on the closed shutter of the shop is not only a way to inform customers of the working schedule. It’s something more: an ode to the good old days when all grocery stores in Naples observed the half-day shift to enjoy a midweek break, a statement of respect towards unwritten “holy rules” and choosing personal time and human relationships over business. Sticking to old ways is what makes Salumeria Malinconico a special place. Yet nothing is dusty here; nor gloomy, despite the literal meaning of the family surname displayed on the sign, which translates to “melancholic.”

Jean-Pierre Ferrato has vin coursing through his veins. Since as young as he can remember, he spent time at Chez Ferrato, his grandfather’s wholesale-retail wine shop. Grandpa Ferrato would siphon French and Algerian table wine from giant wooden barrels into glass bottles, then bring them to restaurants and individuals on his delivery tricycle. Customers would return the bottles, les consignes, for Ferrato to wash, dry, then reuse again. The process was a ton of work – “It was eco-friendly before the word even existed,” winks Jean-Pierre. The ever-smiling Marseillais is still satisfying locals’ thirst for wine eight decades after his grandfather launched his shop in 1940, making his own vintage by upping the wine quality and swapping the barrels for tables topped with Corsican dishes.

While to-go and delivery meals have seen a particular resurgence in the past few years, hungry Angelenos have always turned to takeout as a great way to enjoy the city’s food. L.A.’s vast culinary offering and great takeout options means that you can enjoy a Thai picnic on the beach, take a bag of fresh Mexican pastries for a long commute, or bring home boxes of Detroit-style pizzas for an easy group meal. Whether you’re hoping to try something new or just want to skip cooking dinner, our local guides have handpicked some of the best takeout eats from our archive.

In the heart of Istanbul's Fatih district, not far from the colossal mosque of the same name and the headquarters of the city municipality, there is no shortage of great places to eat. These range from the popular kebab joints of Kadınlar Pazarı to the Syrian restaurants, markets, dessert shops and coffee stands on Akşemsettin Avenue, which also boasts one of the city's best and oldest yogurt producers. On a side street right in the middle of all of this lies Bezirgan Çiğ Köfte, a small four-table spot elegantly decorated with relics of the past from Anatolia, including rugs, prayer beads, and ancient, sturdy brass coffee grinders. At the entrance stands the shimmering counter, which is loaded to the brim with heaps of arugula, lettuce, mint and parsley. Next to that lies a mound of çiğ köfte bigger than a bowling ball.

Masami Sugihara likely wouldn’t call herself a chef. A licensed food consultant, fermented foods sommelier, classically trained chef, and concert violinist, she’s unsatisfied with wearing a single hat, having played different professional roles behind the counter and on stage for most of her adult life. During lunch service, she sports an apron gifted to her by the waitstaff at one of Tokyo’s best luxury hotels – a venue she frequents as a violinist, not a caterer. Her restaurant, Sakanaya no Daidokoro, in Musashi Koganei, translates simply to “Fishmonger’s Kitchen.” It’s a fitting name that reflects the type of home-style Japanese food served here and speaks to the seafood-only main dish selection.

Over many epochs, Marseille has experienced waves of immigration and is considered to be an invaluable gateway city to France. Italian immigration to Marseille began in the late 18th century and increased significantly after the end of World War I, when France's industrial development required a great deal of labor. During the interwar period, 90 percent of the foreign population in Marseille was Italian. Still today, 30 percent of the city’s population is of Italian origin. The current mayor of Marseille, Benoît Payan, is from a family with Italian roots. The similarities between Provençal and Italian dialects are evident. There is no doubt that this cultural history has influenced the culinary tradition of the city. Pizza was first introduced to France in Marseille. All over the city, there are small Italian épiceries (specialty food shops) and restaurants.

A traditional cantina with the looks of a saloon from an old Western movie, La Jaliscience is located in the southern Mexico City neighborhood of Tlalpan. Legend says that it has been there since “the dawn of time.” First it was a bodega, or warehouse, at the corner of the old government building that stands just in front – photos and written records certify its existence dating at least back to 1870. In those days this neighborhood was a town called San Agustín de las Cuevas, and La Jaliscience was the last chance to buy things for those heading to Cuernavaca or Acapulco by horse or mule; preserved goods were kept and sold here, and the customer could also have a drink before hitting the long and winding roads.

Oaxaca’s urban identity has been shaped in part through food and eating habits, a phenomenon that is perhaps best experienced as the sun starts to set. At dusk, food stalls start to open, filling the streets with the aroma of dishes that are now staples of Oaxaca’s vibrant food scene. These sweet and savory treats have been developed over decades – if not centuries – to become integral parts of what we now recognize as Oaxacan cuisine. Each dish and ingredient here tells a long story, deeply connected to the place where it’s offered and the time of day it’s consumed. From the tortas and tostadas serving the hungry after-work crowd to lime-and-chile seasoned elote and esquites (corn on the cob or in a cup – the perfect mobile snack to enjoy in the park) to late-night tlayudas or a smoky mezcal nightcap, the Oaxacan night is for savoring.

South Asian transplants say the best desi food is always served at home, not in restaurants. But Mohammad Yunus, the manager of Lahori Darbar in Istanbul’s Kumkapı neighborhood, thinks otherwise. “The taste here is better than what you get at home,” he said in front of his no-frills joint Lahori Darbar, located a stone’s throw from the grand Armenian Patriarchate, one of the area’s landmarks. On our visit, South Asian tourists and businessmen chatted, snacking on chana dal and chapati at the corner spot, amid a sea of blue-and-white meyhanes. Kumkapı– a stretch along the Marmara Sea – was once the center of Istanbul’s Armenian community, but a shifting kaleidoscope of immigrant groups have moved through the area, opening and closing shops and restaurants in a flash.

It is 6:30 pm – the workday of most of the taco, quesadilla and memela vendors in the city is over, but “The Artist’s” shift has just begun. Every day, as the dusk light bathes the streets, 34-year-old Caleb Santiago sets up his food cart right below the centuries-old clock that overlooks the corner of 5 de Mayo and Murguía. By 7:00 pm, he is ready for another night of juicy hamburgers and hot dogs. Among all the late-night hamburger stalls sprawled across the city, Caleb’s is something else. Initially known as just “Cangreburgers,” this little SpongeBob Squarepants-inspired cart has been feeding Oaxacans for the last 16 years.

It's a common bond shared by children all across the United States: lining up for lunch at the school cafeteria. Our own fond memories of these meals are few and far between, particularly when we think of the institutional food on the menu. We had better luck with lunches packed from home – in part because we could show off our TV-themed lunchboxes – but for many school children, then and now, this isn't always an option. Enter the lunch lady: a nostalgic, nurturing figure who presides over the cafeteria, and who ensures that the children get what they need.

Oaxaca’s street food scene has surprises for us every day of the week. From breakfast to lunch, we can find plenty of stalls with a plethora of options: eggs, tamales, tortas, tacos, hot drinks, juices and more. However, when sunset bathes the streets of the historic center, most of these stalls are disassembled into heaps of tarps, letting esquites, burger and hot dog stands take over the night shift. Fortunately, this is not the case for Empanadas del Carmen Alto, a classic among locals for serving up daytime dishes until midnight. The menu at Empanadas del Carmen Alto is succinct: memelas (thick corn tortillas topped with various ingredients), the famous empanadas de amarillo (calzone-like corn tortillas filled with chicken and mole amarillo) and squash blossom or mushroom quesadillas.