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Although you can find most cuisines in Berlin now, Jamaican food is nowhere near as ubiquitous as it is in, say, London, and it’s mostly relegated to shacks or pop-up stalls at festivals. Enter RosaCaleta, a full-service restaurant run by two transplants from Jamaica via New York who have created a perfect balance of traditional Jamaican dishes playfully reinvented for a European palate. White walls and a wood floor set the stage for a menu that includes oven-roasted pork fillet, fiery jerk guava chicken served with fluffy dumplings, and vegetarian dishes such as vegetable stews and lentil salads mixed with mango and ginger. The restaurant also has a superlative rum collection, used for an inspired cocktail list that is as fruit-filled as it is potent.

Translating into cake of three milks, pastel de tres leches is a sponge cake doused in, yes, three kinds of milk. Evaporated milk, condensed milk and run-of-the-mill milk (or even cream, depending on the baker) are combined and poured over the cake base, which has been punctured with tons of tiny holes, allowing the milks to be evenly soaked up. Topped with a layer of whipped cream and squirts of caramel, the cake is surprisingly light for something so saturated in milk, and manages to steer clear of the too-sweet territory. While I got to try it in El Sal--at the amazing Juayua Food Fest--it’s a popular dessert across Latin America, busted out at many a celebratory occasion.

There’s more to Dutch cheese than edam and gouda. Besides endless variations on these two, including raw milk versions, there are also lesser known Dutch cheeses to try, as well as imports from all over Europe. You can also buy tools for cooking with cheese (graters, slicers, etc), wine, and foods that pair well with cheeses. One of my personal favorites were raisins on the grape vine --so cool looking! Staff generally have good English and even if you get an employee that doesn’t, you can always use the mime and point method to get a nice chunk of cheese cut off one of the massive rounds in the shop.

It didn’t seem to bode well that nearly a dozen buses were idling in the huge parking lot outside the giant modern building that overlooks Tokyo Bay from Kanaya Harbor. But the “tourists” that piled out of the buses were all Japanese, most from Tokyo, we were told, coming to shop in the market complex and dine in what, in San Francisco, would resemble a Fisherman’s Wharf restaurant. Ah, but the food was remarkable, and my lunch--above--was one of my favorite meals on the trip through the prefectures surrounding Tokyo on the Kanto plain. The name of restaurant? The Fish, of course. (If you get there, be sure to arrange a visit to the remarkable private Kanaya Museum across the street.)

Dongdaemun, the old East Gate of Seoul, has been the site of a market for generations. Today, the double-roofed stone arch no longer marks entry into the city, but the capital’s residents still come here to haggle over everything from shoes to plumbing supplies and electronics. Food is not left out of the equation; although large produce markets are not found immediately by the gate, roving merchants wheel seasonal fruit in and around the incessant traffic. As evening rush hour neared, this particular cart was almost empty of its offerings, and the vendor seemed ready for the day to end... To get there by subway: Line 2, exit Dongdaemun Stadium Station, or Line 1 or 4, exit Dongdaemun Station.

A trip on Oahu’s windward side to the North Shore is not complete without a stop at the yellow Shrimp Shack. Two wonderful women operate this truck and serve up locally sourced fresh shrimp and other delicious food. As a warning, the meals are usually loaded with garlic and spice, but oh so wonderful. Instruction are painted on every yellow table top: “Suck, peel, dip, and EAT.” Drinks (and other convenience-store items) are available at Ching’s Store next door. The truck is bright yellow and impossible to miss on the North Shore. Be sure to stop in and say hi and indulge in some amazing spicy shrimp!

In 1950, two halwais—or confectioners—from the Rajasthani city of Bikaner ventured to big city of Delhi to ply their traditional snacks together. Setting up a stall in the Old Delhi Chadni Chowk market, they crafted sweet and savory treats like rasgollas (cheese dumplings in a sugary syrup) and Bikaner bhujuia (fried flour and lentil crisps), based on family recipes—and soon became so well-known that the people of Delhi bestowed them with the nickname of “Bikanervalas,” in honor of their hometown. Today, the brand has over 50 outposts across India, from the Himalayan foot hills of Dehradun and the Mumbai airport to the upscale Hyderabad neighborhood of Banjara Hills, but that Old Delhi original remains. Come for classics like till chikki (nut brittle squares with sesame seed and brown sugar), rich halwas and milk cakes, fruit-and-nut chocolates, and more, as well as seasonal choices. All of the locations are casual, but some are take-out shops only, while other serve a fast-food menu of chaat, Indian and Continental main dishes (including parathas, veggie burgers, and pizzas), desserts, and shakes.

Calling all lovers of food: Shilin Night Market is the largest of many night markets in Taipei. It is easily accessible by MRT and has endless stalls of restaurants/stands as well as shops. Bring a friend so you can share and experience more of the many dishes that this great market has to offer. If you do take the MRT, make sure you get to the platform before 12am because the trains stop running after that. If you stay past 12am, you will need to catch a cab to get back to your hotel.

Sure, it’s a bit rustic and the pebbled beach is small, but this beach club has reached legendary status with Amalfi Coast travelers for its charm. And its food. Everything served is fresh and local, and made in a tiny kitchen built into the rocks at a precipitous height. One suggesion for a long and leisurely lunch: Start with grilled mozzarella served on lemon leaves before moving on to the zuppe de cozze, a giant bowl of mussels drenched in a garlicky, tomatoey stew. If friggitelli (sweet Italian chili peppers) are on the menu, by all means order them. A pitcher of cold white wine with peaches is also recommended. Call ahead to reserve a chair on the beach and a table for lunch, and at the ferry jetty in Positano, your ride to the beach club is the boat with the red fish on its mast.

Blink and you’ll miss this tiny Indian-run eatery serving eclectic international fare between Mitte and Prenzlauer Allee along the trendy Kastanienallee. Notable for its upside-down McDonald’s sign (hence the “W” in the name; Der Imbiss means “The Snack”), the restaurant consists of a service window and a few brightly colored tables, and has quirky Hawaiian and African decor. The food is not only cheap and tasty but also healthy and diverse, pulling off an ambitious mix of Mexican, Californian, Indian, and Italian influences. It’s most famous for naan pizzas—Indian naan breads baked in the venue’s tandoor, with pizza-esque toppings from olives and cheese to artichokes and salmon. The menu also includes filling Indian thali platters, soups and salads, and Mexican-style wraps.

Who hasn’t daydreamed about being an astronaut at least once? Thankfully, Space Center Houston makes it easy to learn about the great beyond. It’s the area’s No. 1 attraction for international visitors and the first Smithsonian Affiliate in the greater Houston area. The center features more than 400 space artifacts and several exhibits related to the past, present, and future of America’s human spaceflight program. It’s also home to the world’s largest collection of moon rocks and lunar samples for public view, and offers guests the opportunity to go behind the scenes to see NASA’s Johnson Space Center.

Hungry hikers (known as hill walkers in Scotland) will find refuge at Monachyle Mhor, a 2,000-acre farm located deep in the middle of Trossachs National Park, just past the grave site of folk hero Rob Roy. The main draw of the 14-room pink farmhouse is the food: Chef-owner Tom Lewis, a rising star on the U.K. culinary scene, prepares meals sourced from the farm. The hotel also offers classes on baking bread and churning butter, and coordinates hunting trips and mushroom-foraging excursions. After a day exploring the land, retire to one of the comfortable rooms, equipped with fireplaces, steam rooms, and views of a loch.

Mexico City has no dearth of luxurious boutique hotels, but Las Alcobas is a special option. Designed by famed firm Yabu Pushelberg, the hotel is full of gorgeous details, from hand-stitched leather wall coverings to a spiral staircase that surges up from the lobby. Upon arrival, guests enjoy a welcome drink as a bellman leads them to their room; explains the technology that controls the light, sound and temperature; and offers them a selection of handmade soaps. Once settled in, they can lounge in plush robes on their goose-down comforters while sampling snacks from the minibar. For a heartier meal, Las Alcobas offers two excellent restaurants. Just outside the hotel’s front door, there’s also Presidente Masaryk, Polanco’s main avenue full of restaurants and high-end boutiques.

With only 48 hours to spend in Istanbul, you really don’t want to have a bad meal. Doing my research before we left, one place that kept turning up with names like “Best Meals of 2012,” My Last Meal on Earth Would Be,"—plus recommendations from trusted friends—was Çiya. After a leisurely morning wander around the seaside neighborhood of Ortaköy, we hopped on a ferry, grabbed a glass of hot tea, and headed to the Asian side of Istanbul. In Kadıköy we found young buskers playing traditional music on almost every corner, and vegetable and fish sellers shouting the praises of their wares. And all of the sidewalk cafes were full. Çiya is spread out over three locations. We had the difficult choice of choosing one of them. We picked Çiya kebap. We ordered a thin and spicy lahmacun—a kind of turkish pizza—to start and then moved on to our meaty mains: Ayvalý Taraklý, an intense dish of tiny lamb chops smothered in a pomegranate and fresh quince sauce; a classic kebap plate with hand-minced lamb with lots of fresh mint; Kağıt Kebap, a spicy hand-minced lamb and hot chili pepper kebab. We were seated on the second floor with a view of the original Çiya Sofrasi, and we watched as plates from the two restaurants were passed back and forth. After all that food, the sun broke through the clouds, and we headed back out to the streets—to the crowds of Sunday shoppers and the sounds of the muezzin call.

New York, Tokyo, and other major cities are home to startling numbers of authentic Neapolitan pizzerias, many with ovens handmade by Neapolitan craftsmen. In those places, pizza making is definitely considered an elevated craft. Perhaps Neapolitans do not think of their cooks as artists because so much of the city’s cuisine is rooted in cucina popolare, or people’s food. What strikes me most about the food of Naples is the uniformly high standards in even the humblest restaurants. That goes for pizzas as well, which makes it impossible to single out one pizzeria. Or so I thought until I visited La Notizia, located up in the hills on the edge of the gritty working-class borough of Fuorigrotta (too far from central Naples to be reached on foot). Owner-chef Enzo Coccia is as obsessed with the details of materials and technique as any Neapolitan tailor.

From my first bite, Coccia’s pizza struck me as something categorically different and decidedly better than anything I had tasted in Naples—or anywhere else in the world. It was feather light but still chewy, the way Neapolitan pizza should be. The thin middle crust didn’t dissolve into a soupy blend of cheese and tomato. When I asked Coccia about his technique, he formed two small test rounds of dough. He flattened one by hand; the other he rolled out with a can. He threw them both into the wood-burning oven and pulled them out 30 seconds later. The hand-formed dough was light and airy. The can-leveled dough was dense. “I prepare my dough at seven in the morning,” said Coccia. “It needs 14 to 16 hours to rise. I make only 300 pizzas’ worth of dough, and when that’s done, we close. Of course it takes the best and freshest ingredients—artisan mozzarella and local extra virgin olive oil—but it’s more than that. You need a passion for the traditional way. Then pizza can be as artisanal as a suit. 39/(0) 081-714-2155. This appeared in the September, 2012 issue.