Ask anyone who has been in Thailand for a while what its national dish is, and they will invariably say pad kaprao. People like to think of pad Thai or green curry or spicy lemongrass soup as ubiquitous dishes in Thailand, but it’s really this holy basil stir-fry that millions of Thais eat every day, all over the country. Pad kaprao – which is most often made with pork, beef, or chicken – is a ubiquitous sight on office workers’ desks at lunchtime, as an accompaniment to a cold mug of beer in the evening, and can even be spotted streetside for breakfast. Every aharn tham sung (“made to order”) vendor serves it, and such is its unique mix of garlicky heat with meaty umami that makes for a delicious dish nearly anywhere you try it.

As he drove us to Tlacolula, some 19 miles east of Oaxaca City, in his burgundy-and-white taxi, salsa music in the background and a tiny bronze cross hanging from his rearview mirror, our driver Félix was philosophizing about migration. Like many other Oaxacan men, he had, at one point, crossed the border from Mexico to California in search of a better life. And like many fellow countrymen, he had come back home because he refused to live a life of persecution and uncertainty due to his legal status as an undocumented immigrant. His life back in Mexico was good; hard, yes, but joyful. “I can eat fresh fruits, dance with my kids, watch them grow. If this is not quality of life, I don’t know what it is,” he reflects. The music stops and so does Félix’s taxi. In the middle of the Tlacolula highway we’ve arrived at one of the area’s largest gas stations, and our destination.

The original idea was simple enough. “The plan was to make really good ham and cheese sandwiches,” explains Bruno Ribeiro of O Primo do Queijo, the Lisbon restaurant he owns with Francisco Nuno Silveira Bernardo. But rarely are things so easy.

We wind our way through the narrow streets of the Cours Julien, filled with warm-weather revelers who gather in the lively neighborhood’s bars and restaurants. Tonight our destination is Rue des Trois Rois (Three Kings Street), where we have dinner reservations at Zesti, a Greek restaurant that opened in fall 2024. The small, quaint room is already packed with diners. We are quickly greeted by Fiola Lecuyer, Zesti’s co-owner and charming front-of-the-house extraordinaire. She moves through the crowded room with the grace of a dancer and somehow manages to remember everyone’s name.

There’s a pocket of Tokyo, strolling distance from the stock exchange and the former commercial center, which feels like a step back in time. Ningyocho is filled with stores specializing in traditional crafts, some more than 100 years old. Here you can buy rice crackers or traditional Japanese sweets or head for a kimono, before watching kabuki (traditional Japanese theater) at Meijiza. On Ningyocho’s main street, just a few minutes from Suitengu Shrine which couples visit to pray to conceive a child or for safe childbirth, is a window. The window isn’t very wide, but a flurry of movement draws the attention of passersby. There, a broad-faced Kazuyuki Tani is making udon, bouncing – no, dancing – as he works.

There’s a pocket of Tokyo, strolling distance from the stock exchange and the former commercial center, which feels like a step back in time. Ningyocho is filled with stores specializing in traditional crafts, some more than 100 years old. Here you can buy rice crackers or traditional Japanese sweets or head for a kimono, before watching kabuki (traditional Japanese theater) at Meijiza. On Ningyocho’s main street, just a few minutes from Suitengu Shrine which couples visit to pray to conceive a child or for safe childbirth, is a window. The window isn’t very wide, but a flurry of movement draws the attention of passersby. There, a broad-faced Kazuyuki Tani is making udon, bouncing – no, dancing – as he works.

North and South Korea may be separated by a heavily fortified border, but there’s a culinary link that defies that separation. In fact, there are many types of North Korean foods that are popular in South Korea, and dumplings are one of them. Korean dumplings share a similar shape with Chinese jiaozi and baozi, as well as Japanese gyoza, and are all referred to as mandu in Korea. Due to the colder climate, rice cultivation is less viable in North Korea, leading to a greater reliance on flour- and buckwheat-based dishes. Mandu, made from wheat flour dough, is a staple food in the north, typically larger, more rustic, and filled with a generous mixture of tofu and mung bean sprouts. Compared to South Korean mandu, North Korean-style dumplings are known for being milder and more comforting.

It might have become one of the more fashionable places in Rio for a caipirinha, yet the simple name of this father-son joint – “Portuguese Kiosk” – suggests humility. Indeed, the pair got their start a decade ago in one of the numerous huts that line the city’s beaches. While the majority of their competitors served the tasty, tried-and-true Rio basics – traditional caipirinhas made with cachaça; beer, and French fries – to sandy-toed beachgoers, Manoel Alves wanted to offer something different.

For years, Syrian chef Syliman Al-Abiad didn’t dare to decorate the walls of his tiny Istanbul restaurant with the Syrian opposition flag that became a symbol of the protests against the regime in 2011. “My parents are still in Syria, and Assad was very cruel,” he explains, referring to the recently fallen Syrian dictator Bashar Al-Assad. Al-Abiad smiles when he points towards the two black-white-green flags with three red stars now hanging in the windows, the first thing that catches one’s eye in Abu Shamso, his basement restaurant.

Naples is often celebrated as having a long-established coffee heritage whose fame is deeply grounded in a number of cherished rituals and literary tributes. But savoring a proper Neapolitan espresso at a café could prove to be a challenging experience for an unaware visitor: usually served in a scalding coffee cup, the hyper-concentrated concoction is very strong and intense, with a fiercely bitter edge, and it’s gone in just one sip. Neapolitans like their coffee "with the three Cs," meaning caldo (hot), comodo (no rush), and carico (strong, to give you a boost), and they indulge in it many times a day. One of the city’s most heartwarming traditions is caffè sospeso, the widespread habit – now also applied to pizza – of paying for one additional cup to ensure that even a person in need can be granted his daily shot.

Guadalajara, the capital of the state of Jalisco, is beloved as the birthplace of such Mexican icons as tequila and mariachi music. The city is a treat for the senses, a place that stokes the desire to see, smell, and taste everything it has to offer. As for the latter, it could take a lifetime – or a great many visits – to work your way through the delicious and varied specialties found here. Founded in Western Mexico in 1542 as a hub for regional trade, Guadalajara became a melting pot of culinary influences – and there’s a range of different kinds of places to discover them all.

Editor’s note: In the latest installment of our recurring First Stop feature, we asked chef Dylan Jones about his favorite spot in Bangkok. Dylan opened Bangkok restaurant Bo.lan in 2009 with his partner, chef Duangporn “Bo” Songvisava. Bo.lan has become a Bangkok institution, receiving critical acclaim for its stance on sustainable practices while at the same time building an intricate web of connections through their suppliers, farmers, and local artisans. Dylan has completely immersed himself in his adopted homeland, speaking the language fluently and together with Bo, has amassed a unique collection of antique Thai recipes which they bring to life through their restaurants and various side projects.

Among the small streets and throughout the hidden corners of San Sebastian, young entrepreneurs sow courageous projects that are reshaping how wine is enjoyed in this city. Among them is José Vergarajáuregui, who opened Bodega Klandestina in 2022 in an abandoned car mechanic’s garage nestled in the folds of the Gros neighborhood. In a region tightly bound by tradition, he felt inspired to pave the way for new trends, tired as he was of seeing the same kind of wines served in most of the bars in town.

Right in the heart of Istanbul's historic Sirkeci quarter are an equal number of tourist traps and gems. At the former, overly eager employees shove menus in your face and pressure you to sit down for an average, overpriced döner kebab on a crowded corner. The latter are the exact opposite; tucked away on ground floors in unlikely alleys, hidden in plain view. Just beneath the looming Deutsche Orientbank – a masterwork built over a century ago and crowned with a copper dome that long ago took on a turquoise hue – is Kavurmacı Goze, a small, elegantly designed restaurant with only one thing on the menu: kavurma (braised beef).

Monty sits just a couple of blocks from the Guggenheim Museum, yet it remains largely unknown to the international public. Nestled on a lively corner of Bilbao’s Ensanche district, it’s one of those bars that encapsulates the city’s character: traditional yet open to change, classic in its presentation, and deeply serious when it comes to food and drink. The area surrounding Monty has become a trendy hotspot for taverns, restaurants, and cocktail bars, home to some of the most daring culinary ventures in the local scene. Within just a few blocks, you can find haute cuisine establishments, seafood sanctuaries, international kitchens or aspirational bistros. Most of these places have emerged around the past decade, fueled by the city’s growing tourism sector.