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From pickle juice to hearty stews, these post-drinking cures are here to help.

Go there now while the Rust Belt is at peak cool.

With Hanukkah just around the corner, Wise Sons owner Evan Bloom shares some spots where you can experience the Jewish food renaissance.

On the toe of the Italian peninsula, a second-generation Italian American finds striking landscapes, underappreciated cuisine, and warm hearts.

When travel is stressful enough, skip cooking and feast at one of these hotels instead.

Take a cooking class in San Sebastian, hop between wine bars in a seaside coastal village, or taste Rioja’s luscious red wines from the source.

Anya von Bremzen raises a glass to local culture in one of the world’s most hospitable places.

Wandering Chef: Erika Dupree Davis in the Bahamas

Wandering Restaurateur: Jay Thomson in France, San Francisco, and New York

Wandering Chef: Matt Stone in Margaret River, Australia

In the city’s once-gritty fishermen’s quarter, a group of activist chefs is reviving—and reinventing—traditional cuisine.

We had been to Gollem for a drink and a snack (note: the meat platter is hearty) the evening before, but when we found ourselves on Overtoom after visiting Vondelpark, with Gollem just opening for lunch, we went for it again. After all, it was our last day in Amsterdam and there was beer to be drunk. The servers are very knowledgeable and helpful, and will guide you to specific styles or rhapsodize over undiscovered breweries. Fries, fried in beef tallow, were wonderful. Sweetbread croquettes tasted mostly like any other croquette, with perhaps a whiff of sweetbreadiness. The ham and Chimay cheese sandwich was good. It was all fresh, and all went very well with the wide selection of Belgian beers they offer. And for dessert? Gueuze.

When the directions to El Huacatay lead you from an unassuming street into an overgrown garden, you may be surprised. When you taste the food here—at what is one of the top gourmet dining rooms in Cuzco and the Sacred Valley—you’ll be equally surprised. Whatever you choose from the menu, you’re unlikely to be disappointed, from the melt-in-your-mouth beef tenderloin to the delicious and fresh valley trout. Share appetizers like the ricotta cheese croquettes with tree-tomato sorbet or the alpaca carpaccio. The drinks are excellent as well, with top marks for the coca sour, made with coca-leaf-infused pisco. Reserve to assure a table in this tiny boîte.

If you’re in Madrid and in the mood for tapas, you might not know exactly where to go or what to taste. The Mercado San Miguel (metro Sol) takes away all that decision-making by providing you with a taste experience all under one roof. The old, derelict market was renovated just a few years ago and turned into an upmarket culinary emporium of sorts. It has more than 30 food stalls, each selling something different. My favorite is the bellota ham sold at Carrasco, but there is plenty more. You can sample sherries and Rioja wines at the wine bar, or do as Spaniards do and pick away at tapas as you make your way through the market. I highly recommend the croquettes, or croquetas, in one of the outside alleys: they have ham, chicken, shrimp, cheese and a variety of others. The more standard tapas area easy to find, like tortilla, and seafood is beautifully laid out for you to pick and choose. Right in the middle is my top-rated tapa place. I couldn’t find a name for it but it’s the largest counter, shaped like a U, and has everything from potatoes aioli to steamed razor clams, with everything in-between.

No one quite remembers when the hipsters started flooding into what is still a rather Kiwanis-club-style banquet hall for Mexico’s Spanish community, but they’re here to stay. Arts and media types, often in large, vociferous groups, favor the ground-floor cantina—a wide-open, too-brightly-lit space featuring a fabulous midcentury bar—where they rub elbows with domino-slamming old-timers. Yes, drinking is the big idea, but the menu of old-school Spanish fare (tortilla omelettes, croquetas, seafood, and pork dishes) is entirely serviceable, particularly after midnight when attendance peaks (it’s said it only closes after everyone clears out, almost always in the wee hours). Everyone who’s anyone claims to be “over” Covadonga, yet there they are, nightly, cutting up with beloved friends; keep your eyes peeled for genius writers you wouldn’t recognize anyway.