Anouchka hails from Extremadura, land of jamón and some of Spain’s best dry-cured sausages. Julien is French and an expert on wine. Together, the husband and wife run La Perla de Oro (“The Gold Pearl”), a pint-sized former colmado (old-style grocery) just off Las Ramblas, where top-notch bocadillos, or baguette sandwiches, are just one of many attractions. Since opening in 1939, three generations at La Perla have supplied their Raval neighbors with cured sausages, cheeses, preserved foods, salted fish and dried legumes. They became known especially for their bocadillos.

Dear Culinary Backstreets, I’ve noticed that a dish called “moustalevria” pops up in shops all over Athens in the autumn months. What is it, and where can I get it?

At the dusty eastern edge of the Taklamakan Desert, the ancient city of Dunhuang marked the intersection of the northern and southern parts of the Silk Road. Meaning “Bright Beacon,” Dunhuang was a historical refuge for weary travelers peddling their wares along the trade route, and this confluence of cultures influenced the ancient city’s cuisine. Merchants brought spices and cooking techniques from the West that combined with Chinese imperial culinary traditions and local ingredients.

Legend has it that in 12th-century Priorat, in the region of Tarragona in southern Catalonia, there was a shepherd who dreamt every night of a ladder leaning against a pine tree. The ladder ascended from the valley all the way to heaven and angels climbed up and down, tending to their heavenly and earthly duties. Some Cistercian monks, upon hearing this story, took the vision as a divine message to build the monastery Scala Dei (“Ladder of God”) in that very spot. Those clever monks, noting the angels’ comings and goings, decided to become their wine suppliers and began cultivating grapes and making wine there.

Dimitris Kotsaris was more proselytizer than baker. Rather than a flour-dusted apron, this mild-mannered gentleman would wear elegant suits to meet with journalists, bearing two or three kilos of his famous whole-wheat bread as a gift. He was an ardent believer in the medicinal qualities of bread and preached widely that good bread promoted good health, once even taking his case to Harvard, where he delivered a talk about the role of well-made loaves in healthy diets. In 1981 Kotsaris opened Pnyka, the pulpit from which he spread his yeasty gospel, and gave the bakery the Greek name for the hill downtown where, in the golden years of Ancient Greece, Athenians gathered for the general assemblies that played such a formative part in the creation of democracy. It is quite fitting then that the first Pnyka shop opened in Syntagma (“Constitution”) Square. The bakery has since added two more shops in the city, in Exarchia and in Pagrati, the headquarters of the operation, and its following is such that last year a third was established in Vienna. Kotsaris passed away last year but his vision lives on through his son George, who has taken over the business.

Shanghai’s hottest summer on record is officially behind us, which can mean only one thing: Mid-Autumn Festival is just around the corner. Zhōngqiū jié (中秋节) is that memorable time of year when Chinese people gift (and regift) bite-sized treats known as mooncakes (月饼, yuèbǐng).

[Editor's note: We're sorry to report that La Biblioteca Gourmande has closed.] In the heart of El Raval, one of Barcelona’s most multicultural neighborhoods, lies a portal to the Catalan countryside. At La Biblioteca, which opened in 2012, the origins of the ingredients sing out clearly from each dish and plunge you into a pure culinary experience inspired by the land: the traditional farmhouses called masias, the rustic recipes of the Pyrenees, the perfume of the valleys and gardens, the modern farmers near the city and the influence on plants and herbs of the Mediterranean Sea.

Making mixiote takes some effort. On its home turf in Central Mexico, the dish is made by taking chicken, beef or mutton that is seasoned with pasilla and guajillo chili peppers as well as flavorings like thyme, cumin, bay leaves, oregano, onion and garlic, wrapping it in individual portions in maguey leaves and then slow-cooking the bundle in a pit, preferably overnight. But how about in Mexico City, a crowded metropolis where it’s not always possible to build a BBQ pit in the ground, or to obtain maguey leaves, which are both expensive and difficult to work with?

Dear Culinary Backstreets, I keep hearing about something in Chinese cuisine called “stinky tofu.” Does it really smell that bad to earn such an offensive moniker?

Dear Culinary Backstreets, I’ve heard about drinks in Mexico called “aguas frescas,” but what exactly are they? Visitors to Mexico are sure to encounter aguas frescas, a popular category of drinks that are ubiquitous at food stands and eateries around the country. These colorful beverages, whose name literally means “fresh waters,” come in a variety of different flavors depending on the main ingredient, but generally all are made by mixing a fruit juice with water and sugar.

Be it kvass in Russia or boza in Turkey, every nation seems to have one of their own, a locally loved drink that to most outsiders comes off as a particularly strange brew. In Spain, that drink is horchata, a unique and deliciously refreshing concoction made from chufas (tigernuts), water and sugar. Served chilled, horchata is beloved all over the peninsula.

It’s a long drive from Athens to Perama, the westernmost terminal of the port town of Piraeus, and the payoff is, at first sight, minimal. To the left is the port’s industrial zone – a forest of blue and orange cranes that tower over the sea. To the right is a stretch of industrial wasteland: old electricity plants, derelict factories, walls with enormous graffiti celebrating Piraeus’s very successful team, Olympiacos, and then a jumble of recently built high-rise buildings on a rocky hill. First populated in the 1920s by immigrants from Asia Minor, Istanbul and the Pontus (Black Sea) region, this suburb of Piraeus now has about 25,000 residents, most of whose livelihoods depend on the dockyards that have been here since the 1930s. Perama remains a proud, working-class neighborhood, and it is no accident that the early Greek hip-hop of the ’90s and the so-called Low Bap hip-hop genre and movement started here.

Foreigners living in Istanbul often say they love the place for its history, while some say it’s the people who make it special. We find life here mystifying for the unpredictable dialogue between the two, the way 15 million or so people reconcile their daily lives with this city’s rich past. To live inside this beautiful crash course is invigorating and, at the same time, a heartbreaking experience. Where else does the elegant silhouette of migratory storks cross a skyline of construction cranes busy laying a metro tube to connect two continents, a project whose progress was stalled by the unexpected discovery of one of the richest underwater archaeological finds ever, a lost port full of ancient boats filled with age-old cargo? Walking these streets, every day we see something so fabulous that it takes our breath away, just as we spot something around the corner threatening to smash it.

Piraeus holds the distinction of being Greece’s biggest port, as well as the largest passenger port in Europe. Although it is a mere 20-minute train ride from downtown Athens, most Athenians think of Piraeus with a reverence reserved for a foreign country. There is just something almost mythic about this ancient port, which has been in existence since the 5th century B.C. – the famous opening line of Plato’s Republic is, after all, “I went down to the Piraeus yesterday.” In the modern period, the greater Piraeus area – home to a population of about half a million in Piraeus proper, along with a number of suburbs – has witnessed dizzying highs and lows, especially over the past century. The area has been a major destination for immigrants from elsewhere in Greece, including the islands and the Peloponnese. One of the biggest population expansions came after 1922, when vast numbers of Greek refugees fleeing Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey) migrated to the area and established new working-class neighborhoods, including Nikaia, Keratsini, Drapetsona and Korydallos.

Most people who visit Barcelona are sure to spend at least some time at one of the city’s beaches. Yet few are aware that when seeking respite from the bustling urban streets, heading up into the forested hills above the city can be just as pleasant. Vallvidrera, a village at the entrance to Collserola National Park that offers gorgeous views of the surrounding forests and the city below, is just the place for such an excursion. Starting in the early 19th century and up until the 1980s, Vallvidrera served as a vacation destination for wealthy Barcelonans who wanted to escape the summertime heat of the city. The abundance of mansions here, many built in the Modernist style, is a testament to this bygone era. Nowadays, although Vallvidrera is a year-round community that is technically part of Barcelona proper, it’s still a destination for local urbanites and their families wanting to get out of the city and relax, particularly on weekends.