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The neighborhood where Martin Luther King Jr. grew up hosts local farmers and vendors at the Sweet Auburn Curb Market. It’s where you can find that unusual ingredient, be it chitlins, rabbit, or live crabs. The market also has a few permanent restaurants, like Grindhouse Killer Burgers, and Bell Street Burritos.

We had the most amazing breakfast in their beautiful and quaint back garden. I’m voting this the best Bloody Mary I’ve ever had. The cinnamon coffee was smooth and easy, and everyone’s breakfast hit the spot. Spend a breakfast here and even a couple of room nights.

Lardo, a sister restaurant to chef Elena Reygadas’s Rosetta and her bakery, is especially warm and buzzy on sunny days, when the Condesa restaurant’s full facade of French doors is thrown open and its handsome crowd spills out. The kitchen applies all the chef’s singular refinements to a winning mix of Tuscan recipes that put special focus on fine charcuterie. Menu items are (perhaps deceptively) simple: poached eggs, seasoned variously; a nice selection of pizzas; fresh, vinegary salads that don’t go overboard; grilled shellfish. The complexity arises from their delicacy on the palate, where each crisp taste is savored separately—and as a part of the whole. A nice wine list encourages sobremesa, the delightful Mexican custom of lingering over the table. Breads—either the ones that come with your meal or the ones you take home from the on-site bakery—might be the best in the city.

Stand on the the quais beneath the Pont Neuf bridge—the city’s oldest crossing of the Seine—and look up. Staring down at you are mascarons, stone faces that resemble gargoyles, but without bodies. No two of these grotesque visages are the same. Enjoy their individuality as you ponder the decades it took to build this stone structure: begun in 1578 by Henri III and inaugurated by Henri IV in 1607. From 1588 to 1599, construction was interrupted by the French Wars of Religion, which lasted 36 years. Then head up the stairs to walk across its two spans, which connect the Ile de la Cité to the Right and Left banks. Great views of the Louvre can be had from the longer, seven-arch span that stretches to the Right Bank.

Superstar chef José Avillez’s flagship dining destination is considered the country’s top restaurant. One of Lisbon’s Michelin two-starred affairs (the other is Alma) and fresh off a recent refurbishment, Belcanto is indeed the perfect place to enjoy Portugal’s rich bounty in the most wonderous, creative, and experimental of ways. The classic tasting menu (€165) nets you Avillez’s signature Garden of the Goose that Laid the Golden Eggs (egg, crunchy bread, and mushrooms), his most famous work of culinary art. More experimental is the Evolution menu (€185), where dishes such as sea bass with smoked avocado, pistachio oil, lime zest, and dashi push boundaries of tradition. It’s a tough choice, especially considering the classic menu ends with Avillez’s wicked cold citrus bomb of a dessert, Tangerine. Belcanto rang in at No. 42 on the coveted 2019 World’s 50 Best Restaurants list.

Tradition meets innovation at Wirthaus in der Au, where Bavarian specialties are updated for modern tastes—especially the dumplings, which are so popular the restaurant sells its own dumpling cookbook. Open since 1901, and conveniently located near the Deutsches Museum, the restaurant is a local favorite not only for its hearty, certified organic fare (roast duck, white sausage, potato salad, soft pretzels), but also for its great selection of beer (including Paulaner), welcoming atmosphere, and historic décor (which ranges from painted ceilings and sturdy wooden seats to a fabulous stein collection). If the weather’s good, grab a seat in the beer garden, where you can enjoy a brew or homemade lemonade under the generous shade of chestnut trees.

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.

Closed until 2024 for renovations.

Set on three-and-a-half acres of garden grounds atop Mönchsberg Mountain, the castle-inspired Hotel Schloss Mönchstein is like something out of a fairytale. Be sure to arrive hungry: In addition to a restaurant that serves Austrian and international fare and an indoor/outdoor orangery with light bites and drinks, the hotel has several private dining rooms, including one nestled in the castle’s tower and dubbed the Smallest Restaurant in the World, as well as a neo-Gothic chamber filled with black-hued antiques. The 24 guest rooms have regal touches like damask-patterned velvets and marble bathrooms with soaking tubs and walk-in rain showers, and a vast menu of treatments at the on-site spa, including Dermalogica facials and body wraps, are fit for royalty. After a day of pampering, an infinity pool and hot tub offer panoramic views over the city below.

It’s all about the view at Villa Dubrovnik, a divine hotel built into the cliff across the bay from the Old Town and Lokrum Island. The restaurant, rooftop bar, spa, and most of the rooms feature the same breathtaking vistas over the Adriatic, deep blue at depth and turquoise closer to shore. Done up in sleek, Mediterranean style, the hotel includes glass-walled balconies and external walls that merge into the golden stone of the cliffside. Those balconies are perfect for morning coffee or sunset drinks, but consider having breakfast on the restaurant terrace, under the shade provided by wind-bent pines. The spa features an indoor pool, and just outside, stone steps lead down to the Adriatic’s edge, where guests can relax on sun beds or step directly into the sea. Should you ever want to leave, the hotel’s private motorboat will zip you directly into the Old Town port.

During the communist era, milk bars could be found in every Polish city. These were canteen-style restaurants where workers could come and eat decent, inexpensive portions of simple food in a no-nonsense setting. Despite their popularity in the 1970s and 1980s, most of the milk bars died away as the Polish restaurant scene was rapidly modernized; however, the few that survived are now increasingly treasured as an important part of Poland’s cultural heritage. U Stasi is well-known for its friendly service (something that milk bars traditionally lacked) while Bar Mleczny Górnik (Miners’ Bar) is basic to the core in all ways except the food, which is consistently good and outrageously cheap.

A buzz surrounds the Smyth, located smack in the heart of TriBeCa, with its recent reinvention: Chef Andrew Carmellini has revitalized the restaurant space, making it a destination for diners from across the city, and a redesign from Gachot Studios has brought a fresh feel to the decor. The new residential-feeling lobby is meant to be your TriBeCa living room, with all the neighborhood’s shopping, galleries, spas, Michelin-rated restaurants, and attractions right on the doorstep. One of downtown’s most poignant landmarks, the 9/11 Memorial, is a few short blocks away. Mirroring the neighborhood’s style, this hotel is understated and chic. Grab a stool next to TriBeCa’s designers, filmmakers, and photographers for a cocktail at the Evening Bar.

Glockenbachviertel, one of Munich‘s prettiest neighborhoods, is located south of the city center and next to the Isar River. Formerly home to the city’s Jewish community and millworkers, Glockenbachviertel was the center of Munich’s gay and lesbian community in the 1980s. In recent years, rapid gentrification has morphed this area into Munich’s most luxurious neighborhood. Quiet streets are lined with beautiful residential buildings and there are plenty of beautiful bars, restaurants, and shops. Take a stroll in the evening or do some shopping before dinner. Don’t miss Hans-Sachs-Straße and its fun boutiques, cafes, and bistros with outdoor seating. One of my favorite meals during my trip was at Das Kranz, a stylish restaurant that focuses on organic produce. The menu changes weekly to take advantage of seasonal, local ingredients. The flavors are fresh and the presentation is beautiful. The fun, relaxed atmosphere (with outdoor seating in summer) further adds to an enjoyable meal.

Zum Dürnbraü, one of Munich‘s oldest restaurants, has been serving traditional Bavarian food since 1487. It has retained its popularity over the centuries by consistently delivering homeland classics while adding modern flavors. The restaurant is tucked away on a quiet side street in the heart of Munich, just 10 minutes from Marienplatz. Its main dining room looks like a typical Bavarian beer hall, but for those who seek a quiet daytime lunch spot, there is the very pretty and airy front garden. Bavarian specialities include wiener schnitzel, spaetzle with fried onions, duck with red cabbage, and roast pork marinated in dark beer. Zum Dürnbraü is also known for its pig knuckle, oxtail and ox tongue. Seeking lighter fare, I enjoyed a savory “Housewife Style” herring salad, with apples and potatoes in a sour cream sauce. It gets crowded during prime dining hours, so make a reservation or come for lunch.

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.

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.