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Set in the former headquarters of a 19th-century bank, Hotel de Rome forms a major part of Bebelplatz, the historic square best known as the site of the Nazis’ infamous book burning in 1933. Across from the stately Opera House and the equally handsome Humboldt University, the hotel has retained the bank’s neoclassical exterior. Parts of the interior are original, too, most notably an elegant staircase that winds up to the fourth floor (the first three floors are also original), and the former bank vault, which has been transformed into a spa that is accessed via the vault’s original steel door. The high-ceilinged guestrooms and suites are suitably sumptuous, with marble in the bathroom and furnishings of mahogany; the color palettes, however, were devised by designers Olga Polizzi and Tommaso Ziffer and are ultra-contemporary. The hotel also has a swanky restaurant, a popular cocktail bar, and a rooftop patio with splendid views of Bebelplatz and the city beyond.

A contemporary take on a traditional pub, Citizen Public House is known for its craft beers, classic and modern cocktails, and interesting pub grub. Snacks include bacon-fat popcorn and a beer fondue made with the local Kilt Lifter brew. Main courses like short ribs with a coffee rub and pan-seared scallops with grits are hearty and delicious. The spot is beautiful, too, with mahogany furniture, oversize leather booths, and a large stainless steel–topped center bar. Speaking of the bar—Citizen Public House is a good spot to tip one back with the locals. Because the bar supports Arizona brewers and wineries, you’ll find Four Peaks Hop Knot IPA and Pillsbury Wild Child white blend on the list, along with wines from Caduceus Cellars and Dos Cabezas.

Pescheria Mattiucci is a fish store by day that transforms itself into a small standing-room-only restaurant a few nights of the week. Mattiucci is an old family operation, but this place is the brainchild of a young son, Luigi Mattiucci. Luigi speaks to me from behind the counter as he preps plates of fish. “There’s a tradition of eating raw fish in southern Italy,” he says. “But it wasn’t a restaurant thing. It was something fishermen did because they couldn’t store all the fish they’d caught.”

He passes me a plate of raw red shrimp with the heads still on, slices of Sicilian tuna, and some amberjack, all of it topped with only a spray of lemon juice and some thick grains of sea salt.

Mattiucci has expanded his family business, which began as an outdoor fish stall in the Quartieri Spagnoli. (Everything artisanal in Naples seems to originate from there, probably because only a poor neighborhood like that could supply the child labor that was the foundation of old-school artisanal culture.) Mattiucci expanded from that original location into this store in posh Chiaia and also bought fishing boats in Sicily so they could eliminate the middleman. He serves me a dish of baby calamari stuffed with friarelli, a distinctively Neapolitan bitter green. Then he offers me a sample of a new dish: the same seafood stuffed with sprigs of spring vegetables, just now in season. Mattiucci, I realize, is someone who’s taking an artisanal approach to the very traditional, and non-artisanal trade of fishmongering. He’s already expanded his restaurant to London and Milan, but Naples is still where he cooks himself. “The fish is freshest here,” he says.

This small, family-run wine shop in the Oltrarno district has been a gathering place for Florentines since 1947. Now run by the founder’s grandson and his family, it remains a place where neighborhood denizens come to buy wine to take home or to have a chat over a glass. Inside the shop, floor-to-ceiling shelves display bottles from a variety of Italian regions and vintages, with options in every price range. Glasses of red or white wine, dispensed from taps, can be enjoyed at the narrow bar. Or linger a little longer: Ask for a seat at one of the sidewalk tables, then order a glass of Chianti and a snack of chicken liver pâté (made from Nonna’s recipe) served on grilled Tuscan bread.

A reservation is an absolute necessity at this very traditional and very popular Florentine trattoria. The white-tiled walls are hung with photographs and prints; hard wooden benches and tables run along the perimeter, and more tables are squeezed into the center. The menu is decidedly Tuscan with highlights like finocchiona (a fennel-flecked salami), slow-cooked beans, tortino di carciofi (artichoke in swirl of whipped eggs), and butter chicken, which is served sizzling in the pan. Save room for the house dessert: heaped layers of cream and meringue surrounded by tiny wild strawberries.

Since 1880, Amaretti di Voltaggio has been serving coffee, pastries, and liquor in this gorgeous shop a few blocks from Porto Antico. The shop/bar opens at 8am, so come early for a table outside (the people watching along this street is superb), and order a cafe correcto if you are feeling adventurous (they will put a shot of liquor into your coffee, so be ready), or just stick with the tried-and-true cappuccino for the most authentic Genovese morning.

The name says it all: this sleek bar is set right on the south bank of the Arno, just east of the Ponte Vecchio and the sunset views of the bridge as dusk falls are indeed golden. Bag a table in the window, order a cocktail and help yourself from a great selection of snacks laid out on the bar counter. If you want dinner, move to the restaurant next door where there are regular live jazz sessions.

This authentic neighborhood bar, Il Chicco di Caffè (aka Lola’s), is run by Maurizio whose Mom, Lola, cooks for a truly egalitarian mix of local artisans, staff from the nearby Gucci headquarters, students and people like me (I live next door!) at lunchtimes. The place is always packed, so be prepared to wait for satisfying pasta dishes, succulent meat mains and great seasonal veg sides. No frills here, but prices are rock bottom and there’s a cool buzz about the place.

A useful address for a snack after a visit to the Uffizi or Palazzo Vecchio, this gourmet sandwich bar and deli, hidden away down a narrow lane, serves delicious panini plus the odd salad. The sandwich selection (made with focaccia freshly-baked in a wood-fired oven) changes daily but ingredients are top-notch and sourced from all over Italy: gorgonzola cheese and salty anchovies is a favourite of mine. The price of your sandwich includes a glass of wine.

Deep fried globe artichokes likely have their origins in the Jewish Ghetto. Yet you will find this regional specialty on menus all over the city, including at Flavio al Velavevodetto where carciofi alla giudia (Jewish style artichokes) are only served in season, in winter and spring. Flavio serves all sorts of typical Roman cuisine, including stewed tripe and braised oxtail. Like many Roman venues, it has its ups and downs and isn’t always consistent, but on a good day the food is phenomenal.

Giuseppe Marco Ferrigno is one of the most known for its Neapolitan terracotta traditional characters. Started also as a family business since 1838, Ferrigno family passes the mastering of traditional terracotta figures from one generation to another. The store is packed with hand-made icon graphic figures of Neapolitan script and before Christmas time the store is over crowded with visitors and clients who buy these terracotta figures to decorate their homes.

Before taking the train to Rome, we picked up a spread of antipasti at Peck, a vast and pristine food shop in Milan. In addition to a huge selection of cheeses, fruit, salumi, and bread, Peck sells prepared specialties like meatballs, potato croquettes, and caprese salad.

There’s no cost attached to one of Istanbul’s most distinctive photo ops, and the only lines are from fishing poles. Cross the historic Golden Horn via the Galata Bridge, where fishermen from every walk of life jostle for space, and tourist restaurants line the lower level (stop in for a drink if you’d like, but the food tends to be overpriced and mediocre). Galata Bridge isn’t beloved for its architecture (fun fact: It is supposedly the bridge for which the card game is named), but rather its views: Topkapı Palace and several domes and minarets in the Old City on one side, and the Galata Tower on the other.

In a city where cooking has been elevated to a lifestyle, provisions for the refined kitchen are in high demand. And no one has been able to meet that need quite like March. The whitewashed, sun-dappled store on an upscale stretch of Sacramento Street inspires instant kitchen envy in all. Pungent spices are displayed in black glass jars with custom labels, hand-thrown serving wear is stacked in elegant totems on the wood shelves, and a fat-bellied AGA stove stands against a wall of spotless subway tile. If you aren’t a home cook, you will vow to become one after a visit to March. The proprietor, the perpetually chic Sam Hamilton, came from New York and a career in fashion before finding her way here. She even interned with Alice Waters for a spell at Chez Panisse, which helps explain Hamilton’s knack for curating items—like handwoven tortillero baskets, Parigi stemware, and fishmongering knives by Pallares Solsona—that aren’t just beautiful but also useful to cooks who actually put their kitchens to work.

Since its founding in 1903, the DMA (as locals call it) has grown to become one of the top 10 largest museums in the country, with a permanent collection of over 24,000 works culled from around the globe and spanning over 5,000 years of history. Works by boldface Western names like Renoir, van Gogh, Warhol, Rothko, O’Keeffe, and Wyeth lead to extensive collections dedicated to art and antiquities from Africa, Asia, and South America; in between, limited-run exhibits might focus on Native American works, Asian textiles, or emerging contemporary artists. In addition to hosting popular events that engage the whole family, the museum is also committed to supporting Texas artists via foundations and special programs, and offers a searchable Texas artists database to help spotlight these native sons and daughters. Dine on casual, gluten-free Mediterranean fare at the plaza-side Socca, or head to the ever-popular DMA Cafe—set in a striking atrium—for globally flavored dishes inspired by works in the permanent collection.