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Of course there is no shortage of great food in Las Vegas, but this place is different. First of all it is not on The Strip, so it is not accessible unless you know about it. It’s in a strip mall in an area with a lot of other Asian restaurants, including an exceptional noodle shop next door called Monta Ramen. You must make a reservation at Raku—walk-ins are impossible and I saw them turn countless people away. Every dish will blow you away. I have traveled a lot to Tokyo, and I love it, but this is the best Japanese food I have ever eaten, and is worth tearing yourself from The Strip to experience.

Built in 1703, Heidelberg’s oldest and most famous tavern has certainly had some illustrious patrons. Mark Twain, Marilyn Monroe, and John Wayne are just a few of the celebrities who drank and dined here—a fact that’s proven by the many photos of famous faces hanging on the walls. Notable clientele notwithstanding, Zum Roten Ochsen is all about simplicity. Still run by the same family that opened it hundreds of years ago, it serves rich local dishes, from goulash soup and bratwurst to Swabian Maultaschen (meat-filled ravioli) and Käsespätzle (cheese-covered noodles), as well as fresh herring, boiled beef, and several vegetarian options. Also on offer is a drinks menu heavy on regional wines and local Heidelberg beer, all of which are complemented by the restaurant’s old-fashioned interior, friendly service, and live piano player in the evenings.

Don’t expect to find any Beijing residents on Wangfujing Snack Street, home of spiders, scorpions, starfish and pretty much anything else that can be skewered and cooked. This is firm tourist territory, a place for visitors to test their mettle when it comes to snacking on creatures that have six or eight legs or float about in the sea. It’s almost a rite of passage, to experience foods that most locals would turn their noses up at, and one that usually ranks among the top memories of a trip to Beijing. Scorpions on a stick seem to be particularly fascinating to visitors. In fact, during the Beijing Olympics it would have been easier to make a list of the visiting journalists who didn’t write a story about them. But, and this seems to be rarely mentioned, not everything on snack street has a ‘Man v. Food’ feel. The stalls offer far more identifiable snacks. Fried dumplings. Steamed buns. Mountains of noodles. Jellied acorn and chestnut. Corn. And given the overall cleanliness of the spot, perhaps due to its high tourism profile, it is generally safe to eat here. So, don’t feel you have to stick to the scorpions. The steamed buns will do, too.

Just through the heavy wooden doors of this Sichuan pop-up-turned-brick-and-mortar is the Pour House, an always-busy music venue where early evening soundchecks often fill the dining room with drum and bass noise. Even louder are the explosive flavors on the plate—the kitchen is unrepentant about not toning down the spice on the Sichuan beef and Yu Xiang pork slivers. For the full lip-numbing cocaine-face experience, start with the dry-rubbed Shaoxing chicken wings, which balance sweet, salty, savory, and spice with plenty of crunch. A few noodle bowls are adaptable for the more spice averse, but this is a place for adventurous fire hounds. On Sundays, brunch offers one of Charleston’s only dim sum experiences, including plenty of dumplings, scallion pancakes, and turnip cakes. After a meal, head to the Pour House deck for free daily concerts by local bands, before bigger-name bands take the indoor stage at night.

Craft cocktails and modern Asian cuisine reign at this hip noodle bar in Honolulu‘s Chinatown. Dig into a bowl of ramen, garnished with sesame seeds, green onion, ginger, a soft egg, and wakame (dried seaweed). From there, things get lively with additions like oxtail won tons and togarashi shrimp with housemade kimchi. Other standouts include lamb lumpia and pork belly bao (buns). Adventurous eaters should try the uni gnocchi—made with creamy urchin gonads—enhanced by leeks, tomatoes, and butter cream sauce. A popular late-night stop, Lucky Belly serves its full menu until 12 a.m. every night except Sunday. Its takeout window serves specials—announced via @_dawindow on Instagram—until 2 a.m., Thursday to Saturday.

Wong Kei is a place all Londoners know. It’s the go-to restaurant in Chinatown when you want a big plate of noodles or sweet-and-sour pork, and you don’t want to pay a lot for it. The service was legendarily rude. In the old days you would arrive at the door and be barked at: “Upstairs!” The multi-level restaurant is always busy, so you’re sent to whichever level currently has space. Then you sit at a table with others, and you order your food, which will be brought to you when the waiters can be bothered. Disappointingly, the service is now thoroughly civil; I can only hope it’s a temporary blip. Either way, this is a must-have London experience, and you’ll easily come away with leftovers.

Located in Hanoi’s business district, just two blocks from Tran Quang Khai highway (where it’s a quick 18-mile ride to Noi Bai International Airport), Hilton Hanoi Opera is in demand with the corporate crowd. Built to resemble the performance venue directly opposite, the Beaux Arts structure’s two-story lobby makes a lasting impression with floor-to-ceiling marble columns and a French crystal chandelier shaped like an inverted wedding cake. Rooms feature elements of traditional Vietnamese design, plus double-glazed windows that promise quiet, accent walls outfitted in floral wallpaper, and bathrooms with separate tubs and walk-in showers. Spend the day admiring opera house views from the outdoor pool, which is heated in the winter, then sit down at Ba Mien to savor such regional specialties as cha ca (turmeric fish with noodles) and roasted pork with green papaya.

Tucked on the corner of Hopkins Avenue and Monarch Street, White House Tavern occupies one of Aspen’s oldest buildings, a small Carpenter Gothic–style white house that was built in 1883. The offerings here don’t change from when the restaurant opens for lunch at 11 a.m. to when the sky darkens and the cocktails start flowing into the night. The menu is made up mostly of hearty salads (Thai steak and noodle, kale with rotisserie chicken) and tasty sandwiches, including an incredibly crispy chicken sandwich and a flavorful, perfectly cooked prime rib au jus piled high on a homemade roll. The cocktail list is short and tends toward the classics—negroni, margarita, martini—but the wine list is surprisingly ambitious.

A little over a mile from where the deer roam in the saguaro-studded foothills of the Santa Catalina Mountains, sit down for some izakaya-style dining. Japanese “tapas” might not be a completely accurate description for this genre of shareable plates, but you get the idea. Ginza is family-owned, and a nice surprise in this corner of the desert. After an evening hike in Sabino Canyon, sit down for your choice of izakaya-plates or fresh sashimi—Tucson is only a six-hour drive from the Pacific, and a four-hour drive from the Sea of Cortez. And if you’ve never had a bowl of ‘real’ ramen (just say ‘no’ to maruchan), you’re in for a revelation of toothsome noodles in porky broth. A few of my favorites are the sautéed shrimp with mild green chilies, the gyoza, and (for a main course) the bibimpbap-chirashi bowl. Over sushi-rice, you’re served a generous sampling of fresh sashimi, tamagoyaki (slightly sweet rolled omelet), sprouts, and seaweed, with a quail egg as a garnish. Korean-inspired spicy/sweet ‘bibim’ sauce tops it off. Chef-owner Jun Arai’s wife, Diana, is from Mexico, which explains the homemade flan on the menu. Take a hike, then take a seat. After the cactus, kampai!

It’s one of the hardest reservations to score in the country, but not just because of its diminutive size (22 seats in all) or limited days of operation (Wednesday to Saturday; dinner only). For one, the Catbird Seat feels both intimate and exclusive: Guests are seated at a U-shaped counter that surrounds a central open kitchen. Then, there’s the thrill of the unknown.

Strategic Hospitality, the Nashville-based restaurant group started by homegrown entrepreneurs Ben and Max Goldberg, has hired a roster of notable chefs for extended stints, giving them carte blanche to create whatever inspires them during their tenure. Among them: Trevor Moran, an alumnus of Noma in Copenhagen. Since January 2016, Chicago-born chef Ryan Poli (another Noma vet, who also trained at the French Laundry) has held the reins, calling upon influences from his two-year stint working in kitchens around the world. A couple of recent hits: an umami-rich black truffle risotto made with sunflower seeds instead of rice, and noodles made with nori and spiked with zesty yuzu.

To many gastronomes, the subtle flavors and spicing of Khmer cuisine makes it one of Southeast Asia’s great food secrets. That’s certainly the view of French chef Joannes Riviera, who has taken inspiration from Cambodia’s unsung culinary traditions to create one of the region’s biggest restaurant success stories. Cuisine Wat Damnak has received numerous accolades since opening for business in 2011. Using only the freshest local produce (think juicy tropical fruit, bamboo shoots, and fish from nearby Tonle Sap), Riviera devises regularly changing tasting menus that burst with creativity. Recent hits include a fish sour soup with green banana and rice paddy herb, and a duck confit curry with fresh rice noodles. Dinner is a steal at just $27 for five courses or $31 for six.

Both Tokyo‘s largest and oldest Buddhist temple, Senso-ji is one of the city’s must see sights. The streets leading to Senso-ji are filled with souvenir shops where you can find tapestries, kimonos, kitschy key chains, and finger foods. Surrounding the temple you’ll also find yatai (food stalls) selling Japanese favorites like yakisoba (fried buckwheat noodles) and okonomiyaki (savory pancakes with a mix of ingredients including eggs, noodles, beef, octopus, squid, and green onion). Inside Senso-ji receive your omikuji (fortune) and if it’s not to your liking leave it behind on the wall of bad fortunes. Take your time exploring the grounds around Senso-ji, which are rich in pristine Japanese landscape design.

As ubiquitous as “mandu” (dumplings) may be in Korea, when in Seoul, seek out their Mongolian lamb-filled ‘ancestors.’ One theory says that meat-filled dumplings were introduced to the Korean peninsula during the Mongol invasions of the 14th century. If that’s the case, then “buuz” (Mongolian dumplings) have made a comeback in the 21st century. In recent decades, tens of thousands of Mongolians have immigrated to South Korea, and the neighborhood just to the west of the new Zaha-Hadid-designed Dongdaemun Design Plaza has become home to a Central Asian village. Seek out the Cyrillic lettering and look for “Ulaan Baatar” restaurant, on the second floor of an otherwise nondescript building in an alleyway. A plateful of “buuz” would make a hearty meal, but it’s best shared. Hand-cut noodles, al dente, stir-fried with carrots and mutton are another option. If you want a break from the seemingly non-stop chile-garlic-soy palette of Korean food, but still want a ‘local’ flavor, this is your fatty chance. My wife and I were the only non-Mongolians when we had lunch here. We followed the example of the other diners and ordered salty milk tea to go with our food. I couldn’t bring myself to dunk my dumplings in it, though, as everyone else was doing. (Beer and Fanta are also available.) By subway: at “Dongdaemun History and Culture Park” station, take exit 12, walk west and turn left at the next corner; look for the 10-story building with cyrillic lettering on your right.

When a restaurant has only four items on the menu, chances are good it will be an expert at preparing them. Myeongdong Kyoja is one such establishment. The restaurant’s signature dish is kalguksu, a hearty soup with chicken broth, hand-cut noodles, minced meat, dumplings, and vegetables. Also on offer is kongguksu, a cooling soup of soymilk broth and nutrient-rich chlorella noodles that’s perfect for summer. On the other end of the spectrum is guksu, a wheat-noodle dish coated with spicy red-pepper paste. Lastly, there are mandu—baskets of steamed dumplings stuffed with fresh pork and vegetables. As servings here tend to be large and optimal for sharing, it’s best to come with a friend or two.

For 20 years now, the Spring Mountain corridor north of the Las Vegas Strip has been a hotbed of hot pots—and every other Asian dish under the desert sun. When celebs such as Anthony Bourdain and Penn Jillette raved about the real-deal northern Thai cuisine at Lotus of Siam, chowhounds followed. Tell your friends you’re finally making the trip out to the strip mall and they’ll tell you to avoid the items you can order from the takeout joint at home: no pad thai, no chicken satay. They’re right. Dive into the last page of the menu, the one about dishes from Northern Thailand, then entrust your tastebuds to the award-winning hands of Chef Saipin Chutima and try her larb or the jackfruit curry, anything with ground pork sausage, the khao soi (egg noodles and meat in a coconut curry sauce), the nam prik ong (a chunky mix of pork, tomato, and red chili, served with lettuce and raw vegetables), or the whole fish with chilis. The food is spicy, yes, and the afterburn is serious, but the depth of flavor is sublime enough to make you weep with regret the next time you have to call your local takeout place for delivery.