15 of the best places in the world for food right now

For many travelers, food is an integral part of what makes a destination “the best.” We couldn’t agree more. That’s why we asked our global writers and editors to follow their appetites to the most delicious—and intriguing—places. The result? 15 Best of the World Food experiences to build your next trip around. More than a pin on a map, these top spots reveal hidden histories, rising culinary stars, and surprising flavors that will leave you hungry for more.

Why go now: Crete’s recent European Region of Gastronomy distinction gives travelers a new reason to revel in the country’s largest island, credited as having provided a blueprint for the Mediterranean Diet.

The experience: On Crete, food has never been merely about sustenance. Wine cups and food remains excavated at Knossos Palace dating back to 1900 B.C. indicate that agricultural goods were stored there by the Minoans, but it was also the site of many a party.

Celebrating food and appreciating good health go hand in hand on this vast island, where some 40 million olive trees thrive. Many consider Cretan cuisine the blueprint for the wildly popular science-backed and longevity-enhancing Mediterranean Diet. In the 1950s and ’60s, researchers found Cretans had remarkably low rates of heart disease and chronic illness. They attributed the islanders’ good health to a diet rich in extra-virgin olive oil, seasonal fruits and vegetables, legumes, and whole grains, and limited in meat and dairy consumption.

Today, from the arid, rocky slopes of remote Sfakia in the southwest to the wineries around Heraklion, new generations of cooks proudly maintain family heritage with foods like thyme honey, nutty graviera cheese, and fiery raki crowding their tables.

In tiny Drakona village, in the foothills of the White Mountains, farmer and cook Stelios Trilirakis keeps the flame of tradition alive at Ntounias, where he tends bubbling pots of snail-and-vegetable stew over an open fire. Do as Cretans do and pair the stew with plenty of mezze to share, and take your time.

A half-hour drive north lies the port city of Chania, where traditional taverna Chrisostomos plates up hearty helpings of tsigariasto of lamb simply seasoned with salt and cooked slowly in olive oil to maximize flavor. Meanwhile, in Chania’s Tabakaria neighborhood, once a hub for tanneries, Periplous finesses island ingredients into modern interpretations. Think dishes like wild amaranth greens with celeriac cream, a simple salad with tangy myzithra cheese, or a sashimi of the day’s catch drizzled with tangy citrus. It’s all best eaten on the terrace as the sun sets over the Sea of Crete.

How to do it: Flights from Athens reach the airports in Chania or Heraklion. The best way to explore the long, narrow island, which stretches 160 miles east to west, is by car hire, focusing on one prefecture at a time. Greece-based Gastronomy Tours offers a wide range of culinary experiences, from olive oil tasting to a Minoan cooking class with an archaeologist. —Helen Iatrou

Why go now: Late last year, Kelowna was named a UNESCO Creative City of Gastronomy—the first in Canada. The designation recognizes this premier wine region and its growing culinary offerings, made possible by centuries of land preservation by First Nations and a vibrant immigrant history.

The experience: Kelowna sits on the shores of Okanagan Lake, surrounded by the glacier-carved stepped benches of the Okanagan Valley. In the mid-1800s, French Catholic missionary Father Charles Pandosy was the first to plant grapevines and apple seedlings here. Now, the traditional territory of the Syilx Okanagan people is home to more than 800 farms and 40 wineries, many of them family- and immigrant-owned.

The best way to experience the area’s culinary riches is along the three-mile Boucherie bike route, which passes restaurants and fruit stands backed by stunning views of the lake and rolling vineyards.

Among the standouts is Volcanic Hills, which grew from an apple farm founded by Sarwan Gidda’s father, Mehta Gidda, an immigrant from East Punjab. Now the Gidda family showcases the region’s viticultural diversity with fruity pinot gris, an award-winning merlot, and a robust cherry wine. At Little Straw Vineyards, lauded viticulturist Karnail Singh Sidhu preserves the legacy begun by the Slamka family by overseeing the production of its famous full-bodied red blends. The winery’s new Tula Restaurant is where chef Bhawna Tandon pays homage to her Indian roots, with dishes like cedar-smoked tandoori salmon infused with Okanagan honey and apple cider vinegar.

Overlooking Okanagan Lake, the Old Vines Restaurant at Quails’ Gate Estate Winery serves meals with one of the valley’s best views, while Mission Hill Family Estate’s soaring bell tower and arched colonnades make a striking backdrop for summer concerts and wine tastings. If it’s available, try the 2020 Oculus, a Bordeaux-style blend well regarded by Canadian wine experts. And don’t forget to pack your panniers with favorite finds—many Okanagan vintages are available only at the source.

How to do it: Seattle-Tacoma and Vancouver International Airports have direct flights to Kelowna. Lakeside Eco-Sports rents Rize e-bikes with helmets, locks, panniers, and a navigation app with routes around the city, as well as guided outings in southeast Kelowna. Vivid Tours and Sip Happens offer guided tours in Lake Country. —Lisa Kadane

Why go now: Once staples of Hawaiian neighborhoods, family-owned saimin noodle shops—the island equivalent of classic diners—are fast disappearing, with only a handful left statewide. In Honolulu, beloved Palace Saimin’s 80th anniversary offers a reason to raise a spoon to this multicultural comfort food.

The experience: Everyone in Hawai‘i has a favorite spot for saimin, the piping hot, slightly salty noodle soup. At one time, you could order a bowl at McDonald’s. These days, it’s on the menu at local fast-casual chain Zippy’s. There are even gourmet versions at Merriman’s restaurants and Star Noodle, where Top Chef TV show finalist Sheldon Simeon served as executive chef. But it’s best slurped at an unassuming stand with retro interiors (and often retro prices).

These mom-and-pop shops reflect saimin’s humble origins, born from the ingenuity of Japanese and Chinese plantation workers cooking with the meager ingredients they could acquire. “Saimin is a culinary moʻokūʻauhau [genealogy story]. It’s a story of us,” says Mark Noguchi, a renowned Honolulu chef and educator at Punahou School, a private K-12 school.

A proper bowl starts with a clear dashi broth filled with chewy, curly, wheat-egg noodles, gussied up with glistening red char siu (Cantonese barbecued pork), pink-swirled kamaboko (Japanese fish cake), sometimes slices of Spam, and green onions. It’s finished with a dab of Chinese hot mustard and a drizzle of soy sauce at the table.

For locals, the noodle soup is a balm for rainy evenings, the flu, and heartbreak. Even when the air is sticky-humid, a steaming bowl of saimin is as welcome as a hug from a loved one. For 80 years, the family behind O‘ahu’s Palace Saimin has been ladling up bowls of it inside the eight-table dining room overseen by a pair of waving maneki-neko cat figurines. Locals upgrade a basic bowl with juicy pork dumplings and a side of grilled teriyaki beef skewers.

Over on Kauaʻi, the drive to the old sugar mill town of Līhuʻe passes jade mountains and leads to cash-only Hamura Saimin, deemed a James Beard “America’s Classic” in 2006. Here, locals amble up to the Formica counter for “sumo size” bowls, one of several portions that come with two pieces of crispy shrimp tempura, or a special that comes dressed with a hard-boiled egg, a generous amount of barbecued pork and ham, and veggies.

On Maui, Sam Sato’s has been serving saimin since Prohibition near Wailuku, a former plantation town in the foothills of ʻĪao Valley. The specialty here is dry saimin served with the broth on the side for dunking the thick noodles.

“When you eat saimin,” says Noguchi, “you are tasting Hawai‘i’s history.”

How to do it: Parking at Palace Saimin is scarce, so it’s best to take the No. 1 or No. 2 bus from Waikīkī or a 15-minute rideshare. Pair your visit with a stop at Hawai‘i’s Plantation Village in Waipahu, where replicas of field worker homes illustrate daily life on the sugarcane plantation.

Sam Sato’s is 30 minutes by car from Wailea and 45 minutes from Kāʻanapali. Walk off lunch with a stop at the Sugar Museum to learn about the workings of a typical sugar plantation, including what it took to build the extensive network of irrigation tunnels to sustain the crops.

Hamura Saimin is 20 minutes by car from Poʻipū and 50 minutes from Princeville. Don’t miss the Grove Farm Museum, where tours aboard restored steam trains that once hauled sugarcane offer a look into the lives of the wealthy owners and the immigrants who worked on the plantation. —Marie Tutko

Why go now: As climate pressures impact global arabica bean production, Vietnam’s robusta-friendly Central Highlands and booming coffee culture are raising the region’s profile for travelers seeking less crowded options to Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City.

The experience: In Vietnam, coffee has evolved from its French colonial roots into a distinctly Vietnamese drink. Across the country, people young and old pull up a chair and patiently await the slow drip of the fine-mesh phin filter as it concentrates grounds into a potent brew, sometimes sweetened with condensed milk. It also comes tinged with salt or whipped with egg to ​​a tiramisu-like treat.

As the world’s second largest coffee producer after Brazil, Vietnam’s coffee industry is booming, and its heart is Buôn Ma Thuột, the capital of Đắk Lắk province, where locals joke that there’s a coffee shop every 100 meters. The abundance of cafés isn’t surprising. Buôn Ma Thuột is located in the Central Highlands, where emerald-green plantations produce more than 40 percent of Vietnam’s coffee exports, reaching over 70 countries. It’s the largest region in the world producing robusta, the other main coffee bean besides arabica.

“Many experts and coffee businesses consider Buôn Ma Thuột robusta among the best in the world,” says Helen Le, author of Vegan Vietnamese and other cookbooks on Vietnamese cuisine. “The [coffee] beans are known for their strong body, amber color, high caffeine content, low acidity, intense aroma, and long sweet aftertaste.”

In this coffee-obsessed corner of the province, there are plenty of places to indulge. Park-​​like Trung Nguyen Coffee Village encompasses cafés, restaurants, and replicas of traditional stilt homes across 20,000 square meters. Inside three wooden houses (named Cherry, Arabica, and Robusta), visitors sample premium roasts, such as Legend, an intense blend of arabica and robusta beans. A short drive outside the city center, lakeside Aerococo Specialty Coffee Farm offers a hands-on look at the robusta-making process from branch to brew.

The World Coffee Museum casts Vietnam’s role against the wider world of coffee. The architecturally stunning buildings, mirroring the longhouses of the Central Highlands’ Ede people, bring travelers up close to thousands of artifacts (antique grinders, brewing tools) and interactive displays, like aromatic blending stations and a 3D map of historical coffee civilizations.

How to do it: Vietnam Airlines and VietJet operate daily nonstop flights from Hanoi to Buôn Ma Thuột. The airport is about six miles from the city center, which is easily accessible by taxi. The World Coffee Museum is open daily. Aerococo Specialty Coffee Farm is open daily, but it’s best to reserve tours. —Kristin Braswell

Why go now: Europe’s next great food destination is getting its due, including from the new Michelin guide to Czechia, which expands the restaurant authority’s traditional focus on Prague to recognize a nationwide culinary revival decades in the making. Now is the time to experience it, while prices remain accessible and reservations attainable.

The experience: Czechia sits at the crossroads of central Europe’s greatest kitchens. For centuries, imperial courts and merchants from Bavaria to Budapest traded flavors across borders. But after 1948, Communist rule reset the table. Farms were seized, imports disappeared, and dining for pleasure was deemed extravagant. The state even dictated what restaurants could serve, enforcing a book of standardized recipes.

The 1989 Velvet Revolution opened the country to new ideas and ingredients. Now a new generation of chefs is reclaiming—and reimagining—Czech classics, like slow-roasted meats, root vegetables, and dumplings.

Jan Knedla is among the country’s rising chefs. At Papilio, in Vysoký Újezd, just outside Prague, his menu evokes the Jeseníky Mountains, where Knedla grew up harvesting local ingredients for his grandparents’ kitchen. Dishes like venison with black truffle pay homage to the hearty comfort foods he grew up eating. It’s one of many that have helped the restaurant earn two Michelin stars—the only restaurant in Czechia with that distinction. Beyond the city’s fine dining scene, low-key spots like Lokál Dlouhááá serves a soul-warming braised pork, while U Fleků has been pouring dark lagers since 1499.

In Olomouc, the Moravian Baroque-style Holy Trinity Column greets visitors on their way to Entrée, where Přemek Forejt runs an open kitchen framed by an herb garden. Freshly plucked mint and dill brighten dishes and desserts like borscht with crème fraîche and smoked ice cream. A short drive away, Long Story Short Eatery & Bakery turns out fresh sourdough and brioche from the ground floor of a historic horseshoe-shaped fort that also houses a minimalist hostel and co-working space.

At La Villa, just outside the industrial city of Zlín, Július Löffler applies French techniques to Czech staples, such as wild boar sausage made with chervil root and porcini mushrooms, and Přeštice pork, served alongside barley blood sausage and a smoky bone broth-based sauce. The restaurant’s pine-filled setting in a 1941 private estate is a tranquil break in a city known for its functional architecture.

The lily-covered fishponds and vineyards of UNESCO-recognized Lednice-Valtice inspire the seasonal tasting menus at Essens, Otto Vašák’s restaurant inside the column-lined Chateau de Frontiere, a summer retreat commissioned by a Liechtenstein prince, now a hotel. Think carp fries and grilled catfish with wild broccoli and tarragon. Pair plates with peppery Grüner Veltliner or Pálava, a citrusy grape grown in Moravia’s rich soils. Don’t miss nearby Valtice, home to the country’s top 100 wines.

How to do it: Václav Havel Airport Prague services the city, which has plenty of rental cars, trains, and regional buses. Michelin’s interactive guide maps nine starred restaurants. Tasting menus are often seasonal, and prices vary from about $83 to $236 by course count (wine extra). The Czech-based platform Mapy (available online and via app), is an excellent search tool for finding hidden gems and candid restaurant reviews from locals. You can also book a Prague Foodie tour to sample a range of the capital’s culinary delights on the go. —Gulnaz Khan

Why go now: In late 2025, Lucknow became the second city in India to receive recognition as a UNESCO Creative City of Gastronomy, giving international travelers added incentive to explore this less crowded alternative to Delhi.

The experience: Lucknow, Uttar Pradesh’s capital city of scalloped archways and floral stucco work, rose to prominence in the 17th and 18th centuries as the seat of Islamic rulers from Persia. Here they cultivated a refined courtly culture of poetry, music, architecture—and a new elegant cooking style.

From their royal kitchens emerged dishes made with Persian ingredients that were hard to get at the time—cardamom, rose water, and saffron perfuming slow-cooked meats. It’s a cuisine defined by aroma, texture, and technique.

One such cooking method is dum pukht, where meat, primarily beef or lamb, sealed in heavy-bottomed pots simmers over low heat, steam gently cooking the ingredients in their own juices. This forms the base of some of the city’s most iconic dishes, like galouti kebab, pan-fried finely minced mutton patties; Awadhi biryani, a lighter take on one of India’s most famous rice dishes; and nahari, a beef or mutton shank stew seasoned with ginger and cardamom, a fortifying breakfast for the day. Even breads like the mildly sweet, saffron-scented sheermal reveal these centuries-old Persian influences.

One of the best places to try what’s now called “Lucknowi cuisine” is in the bustling Chowk marketplace, where kebab stalls, sweet shops, and spice merchants line narrow lanes, enticing passersby with generations-old recipes. A stone’s throw from ornate Akbari gate, which marks the entrance to Chowk, Raheem’s Kulcha Nahara has been drawing fans to its no-frills dining room for the namesake stew since 1890.

Newer spots like Lalla Biryani, opened in 1985, draws locals craving owner Vijay (“Lallaji”) Shankar Verma’s signature cardamom-scented mutton rice piled onto the plate. Nearby, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it Prakash Ki Mashoor Kulfi has been turning milk flavored with spices like saffron into the frozen kulfi dessert since 1956. In Aminabad, another busy marketplace, Tunday Kababi remains synonymous with Lucknow’s famed melt-in-your-mouth galouti kebabs. Meanwhile, inside the Taj Mahal Lucknow hotel, Oudhyana’s palatial dining room adorned with crystal chandeliers transports diners to the cuisine’s royal roots.

How to do it: All Indian airports offer direct flights to Chaudhary Charan Singh International Airport in Lucknow. The city’s historic center is less than 10 miles from the airport and easy to reach by Metro Rail, private taxis, or rideshare programs like Uber and Ola.

Roobaroo Walks, Secret Food Tours, and Lucknow Food Tour offer additional insight into the city and its food history; travelers can join group tours or book private meals and cooking sessions.

The best time to visit Lucknow is from October to March, when cooler weather makes exploring historic neighborhoods, markets, and restaurants more comfortable. April to June (summer) is extremely hot and precedes the monsoon season. —Karthika Gupta

Why go now: A flagship food festival and a new wave of pioneering chefs are adding buzz to this rising culinary destination

The experience: Colombia’s Caribbean coast moves to its own rhythm. It’s where the mighty Magdalena, the longest river in Colombia, sways past Barranquilla’s tree-lined promenades and the rhythmic beats of cumbia fill Cartagena’s UNESCO-stamped historical quarter. It’s also where innovative cooks and storied traditions are feeding a new hot spot for travelers led by their appetites.

In Cartagena’s trendsetting Getsemaní enclave, Jaime David Rodríguez Camacho oversees the kitchen at Celele, where he champions Caribbean dishes like hearty sancocho pork soup. His version adds dehydrated plantain cream, an example of the innovations that have earned the restaurant a place on The World’s 50 Best Restaurants list. Álvaro Clavijo, the force behind Bogotá’s El Chato—named Latin America’s best restaurant in 2025—has brought his culinary vision to the coast with El Curato.

Located within Cartagena’s 16th-century stone walls, the bistro highlights the chef’s contemporary approach to Indigenous ingredients in dishes like cheesecake made with costeño whey, a tangy, dairy cream originating in the Colombian Caribbean and a cornerstone of the region’s cuisine. Meanwhile, Alquímico, consistently ranked among the world’s best bars, pairs sugarcane-based viche cocktails brightened with citrusy native lulo fruit with a farm-to-table ethos that supports regions once impacted by conflict.

Two hours northeast by car is Barranquilla, home to the world’s largest carnival outside of Rio. Here, the cuisine, shaped by Indigenous, African, Spanish, Caribbean, and Arabic influences, is as vibrant and diverse as its people. Sabor Barranquilla (August 20-23), one of the country’s biggest food festivals, celebrates this cultural blend with local chefs making native fruits and vegetables—such as starchy cassava and the palm fruit corozo—sing.

Expect lively workshops, street food stalls, and cooking demonstrations from Barranquilla chefs, including lauded Manuel Mendoza, who elevates local flavors such as cured amberjack seasoned with achiote, a seed native to Latin America, at his eponymous restaurant. Also attending, Carolina Asmar brings her Arabic-influenced Caribbean cooking (think spice blends like baharat and za’atar), a perspective she hones at her restaurant, Celia.

How to do it: Most travelers fly into Rafael Núñez International Airport in Cartagena and Ernesto Cortissoz Barranquilla International Airport in Barranquilla. Both cities have extensive bus systems covering most places of interest, although the quickest and easiest way to navigate them is by taxi or Uber.

The best time to visit is during the dry season, between December and April, when temperatures average around 80 degrees Fahrenheit. Barranquilla is busiest during carnival (February 6-9 in 2027), while Cartagena sees most crowds during Holy Week (March 21-28 in 2027). —Farida Zeynalova

Why go now: The booming popularity of train travel is fueling a push to connect destinations with inspired menus, ushering in a new golden age of railcar dining.

The experience: As La Dolce Vita Orient Express picks up speed along the coast of Sicily, the windows frame views of the island’s sun-soaked places. What’s harvested outside appears on your plate in the 1960s-style dining car, as you fork into fennel-filled tortellini with marinated anchovies served with crispy bread.

“The dish is inspired by the iconic Sicilian pasta con le sarde, which I reinterpret in a lighter way to suit the experience of dining while traveling,” says Heinz Beck, the chef behind Rome’s three Michelin-starred La Pergola restaurant who oversees La Dolce Vita’s gastronomic experience on eight different itineraries in Italy.

La Dolce Vita is one of the train lines reimagining onboard dining as a way to celebrate the cultures along rail routes. Destination-specific ingredients also appear on menus from India’s Maharajas Express to Peru’s Andean Explorer to Taiwan’s Haifeng dessert train.

In the U.K., chef Simon Rogan, a pioneer of “farm-to-fork” dining, leads the culinary program on the Britannic Explorer, a sleeper train with eight routes by the luxury hospitality company Belmond. On the Cornwall journey, for example, multicourse meals are odes to the seascapes, with dishes like Mevagissey lobster and St. Ives Bay spider crab atop hand-harvested seaweed.

Aboard the Royal Scotsman, another Belmond train, Glasgow native Mark Tamburrini cooks alongside guest chefs like Tom Kitchin, a passionate advocate of the Scottish larder and utilizing every edible part of an animal. “Cooking onboard the Royal Scotsman is unlike any other kitchen experience,” explains Tamburrini. “As the train travels through the Highlands, the scenery becomes part of the inspiration for our dishes and the way we showcase Scotland’s incredible produce.” In the two dining cars, dinner segues from oak-smoked salmon papillote to Aberdeen Angus beef drizzled with peppercorn café au lait sauce, paired with confit carrots and horseradish mash.

In 2027, L’Orient Express is set to return to the rails after a lavish restoration of original art deco carriages kitted out in marquetry and Lalique lamps. French chef Yannick Alléno—who recently received his 18th Michelin star—is currently perfecting the menus for the yet-to-be-announced itinerary.

How to do it: La Dolce Vita cabin rates start at about $3,620 per person per night. Three-night itineraries on the Britannic Explorer, a Belmond Train start at $14,560, based on a double cabin. The “Taste of the Highlands” two-night itinerary on the Royal Scotsman starts at $6,350 per person. (Rates were accurate at press time.) —Mary Winston Nicklin

Why go now: A movement to recognize and promote the Aboriginal foods of Tasmania—supported by a new national Food Resilience Strategy to help build local supply chains—is providing more opportunities for travelers to appreciate the food traditions that colonization disrupted.

The experience: In the cooler maritime region across southern Tasmania, native foods have long thrived: coffee-scented wattleseeds in inland bushland, nutty bracken fiddleheads at forest edges, and salty pigface fruit in sand dunes. Offshore, shellfish cling to rocky ledges and tidal shoals in ecosystems shaped by the cold Southern Ocean.

“What might first appear as bushland or coastline begins to reveal itself as a living food source that has sustained my people for thousands of generations,” says Kitana Mansell, a manager with Palawa Kipli, an Aboriginal company that runs guided walks at Risdon Cove—whose Aboriginal place-name is Piyura Kitina—where visitors learn how colonization disrupted the region’s native food traditions.

The island’s first British settlement, in 1803, Piyura Kitina became an early flash point of conflict as colonial expansion displaced Aboriginal communities across Lutruwita—the Aboriginal Tasmanian word for what’s now Tasmania—then home to nine Aboriginal nations. Today “it is a place where our community, and the wider community, can come together to learn, share stories, and experience the flavors of Country,” Mansell says.

Across the region, these food traditions are being restored. Aboriginal Tasmanians (collectively known as Palawa) are again harvesting and selling abalone, practices that were prohibited with colonization. Known locally as muttonfish, abalone is one of the most important cultural foods. Meanwhile, in the Derwent Estuary, a conservation effort is underway to return the Angasi oyster, a meaty native species whose shells have been found in ancient middens, to reefs to help rebuild marine ecosystems.

In Hobart, Tasmania’s capital, that deep relationship to terra and tide surfaces in everyday food. Each Sunday at the Farm Gate Market, growers fill Bathurst Street with native ingredients such as pepperberry (like sumac) and wattleseed flour, alongside colonial-era crops such as Sturmer Pippin apples and morello sour cherries.

On the waterfront, the floating stalls at Constitution Dock sell the day’s freshest catch: scallops, southern rock lobster, and Angasi oysters, also called Australian flat oysters. Nearby, the commercial fishermen of Tasmanian Wild Seafood Adventures launch public Deep-to-Dish cruises toward Bruny Island, where divers haul up abalone, sea urchin, and rock lobster to cook onboard for guests.

“The ingredients have always been amazing, but colonial cooking didn’t do them justice. You had incredible ingredients and people stuffed them up by overcooking them,” says chef Rodney Dunn of The Agrarian Kitchen, the New Norfolk restaurant on the grounds of a former asylum that he owns with his wife, pastry chef Séverine Demanet. One example is wallaby, traditionally smoked over rosemary-scented kunzea leaves and paired with native honey. Dunn’s approach is similarly restrained: wallaby tartare, seasoned with a house-made miso and preserved garlic, and served in the sunlit dining room overlooking a lavish kitchen garden.

At the 10-seat Lumachelle, set to open this year in the Huon Valley, Analiese Gregory plans to spotlight native ingredients she gathers herself—including abalone she dives for and fries in brown butter with capers and lemon. In Bream Creek, married chefs Bob Piechniczek and Jillian McInnes turn to a bounty of native ingredients at Oirthir (Scots Gaelic for “coast”), which may include warrigal greens and seaweed, used in woodfired soda bread and butter.

Even as chefs explore new ways to center Tasmania’s native ingredients, Mansell says the island’s oldest food traditions remain written in the landscape—a living pantry in plain sight. “Aboriginal food knowledge is one of the oldest food cultures in the world,” she says. “When I walk on Country I see layers of knowledge.”

How to do it: Airports in Sydney, Melbourne, Brisbane, and Auckland have flights to Hobart International Airport. Central Hobart is compact and walkable, but renting a car makes it easy to explore nearby food regions.

Autumn (March through May) is harvest season, when orchards, vineyards, and markets are flush with local produce. Farm Gate Market operates Sundays from 8:30 a.m. to 1 p.m. Palawa Kipli’s public two-hour native-food foraging walks at Risdon Cove take place once a month, while private tours can be arranged anytime. Tasmanian Wild Seafood Adventures’ 4.5-hour Deep-to-Dish seafood cruise departs from the Hobart waterfront throughout the week at 10 a.m. —Leilani Marie Labong

Why go now: As Singapore finds new ways to celebrate its lesser known Peranakan culture—including a new museum exhibition and a growing literary festival—now is the time to get to know the hybrid culture’s rich culinary contributions.

The experience: Singapore packs lots of flavor into less than 300 square miles, with 38 Michelin-starred restaurants, thousands of UNESCO-recognized hawker stalls, and multiple entries on the World’s 50 Best Bars list, an annual ranking by hundreds of drinks experts published since 2009. What gets less attention is its Peranakan food.

Peranakan people trace their heritage to sometime around the 15th century. Their numbers grew over the years as migrants from China, India, and other countries married local or Malay women in Malacca, Penang, and Singapore. (Peranakan women are called Nyonyas; men are Babas. Peranakan means “locally born” in the endangered Baba Malay language). A distinct culture emerged, and with it some of the island’s most complexly flavored dishes, blending spices from Chinese, Malaysian, and Indonesian pantries.

But Peranakan cooking requires long hours in the kitchen—a rare luxury, which has some worried about the cuisine’s future. Among the protectors of Peranakan culinary traditions is Alvin Yapp, whose 1950s home, called The Intan, in the Joo Chiat neighborhood bursts with more than 5,000 Peranakan artifacts, from beaded slippers to peony-painted tingkats (enamelware food containers).

It’s also where Yapp hosts private meals, serving dishes like ngoh hiang (typically a deep-fried roll made by wrapping a savory meat mixture in bean curd skin), the well-loved Nyonya ayam (a curry usually made with chicken), and babi pongteh (pork belly braised in fermented soybean paste, once considered the benchmark of a young Nyonya’s readiness for marriage). Cooking demonstrations designed by The Intan are facilitated by a professional chef at a nearby cooking studio.

At Pasir Ris Central Hawker Centre, overlooking Pasir Ris Town Park, Sarah Sng of Nyonya Pok Pok Kay dishes up ayam buah keluak, the quintessential Peranakan chicken stew made with buah keluak nuts (seeds of the fruit from Pangium edule trees, grown in Southeast Asia). Commonly called Asian truffles, these nuts require lengthy fermentation and take seven days of scrubbing and soaking to remove toxins before they can be cooked.

Among the standard bearers of Peranakan cuisine are Chilli Padi Nonya Restaurant and True Blue Cuisine, which have each earned Michelin recognition with classics like crispy kueh pie tee, pastry cups filled with prawns or shrimp and shredded turnip. At upscale Candlenut, the first Michelin-starred Peranakan restaurant in Singapore, Malcolm Lee reimagines satay, a hawker stand mainstay, with charcoal-grilled beef short ribs doused in buah keluak sauce. It’s all part of his “Ah-Ma-Kase,” a play on the Chinese dialect word for grandmother (ah ma) and the Japanese omakase meal.

How to do it: The main airport is Singapore Changi Airport. The Mass Rapid Transit train connects Changi to downtown in about 40 minutes. Getting around is convenient on the train and through ride-hailing apps like Grab.

Singapore’s tropical climate makes it a year-round destination, but February through early March offers the driest weather.

Visits to The Intan are by appointment only. The Intan’s Tea Experience includes a guided tour and traditional Nyonya kueh (a Peranakan dessert) starting at around $50. The Intan’s Private Dining Experience is a seven-dish Peranakan meal that must be booked in advance. Candlenut's Ah-Ma-Kase costs about $85 for lunch and about $108 for dinner. Reservations are recommended. —Iona Brannon

Why go now: The home of both cider and cheddar cheese, this farming county has long been overlooked by visitors heading west for the Devon and Cornwall coast. But a raft of hotel and restaurant openings gives travelers an incentive to explore this less crowded alternative to the region’s famous Cotswolds.

The experience: In Somerset, cider is something of an obsession. This verdant region is home to more than 450 types of apples and is widely considered one of the United Kingdom’s main producers of hard cider.

Local producers blend different varieties to balance sharp and sweet flavors to make this often potent alcoholic drink. Megabrand Thatchers, on tap at pubs across England, offers tours and tastings at its farm near the Mendip Hills, where dramatic limestone gorges enhance this officially designated Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty.

Smaller-scale Burrow Hill Cider, popular with Glastonbury Festival-goers, offers walks through fragrant orchards and hilltop views of Glastonbury Tor. Visit a cottage outfit like Wilkins Cider, and it’ll most likely be the proprietor offering you a jar.

No “one-trick” county, Somerset is also the birthplace of cheddar cheese—the earliest reference to its connection with the area dates to 1170. At Westcombe Dairy, visitors nibble artisan cheeses made with raw milk from dairy cows grazed on lush green pastures.

Swiftly emerging as Somerset’s epicenter of cool is the market town of Bruton, home to a clutch of farm-to-table restaurants as well as contemporary art gallery Hauser & Wirth, where Italian restaurant Da Costa and an upmarket farm shop occupy a former farmstead. Inside charming Georgian-era hotel Number One Bruton, cozy Briar serves seasonal small plates that may include Westcombe cheddar gougères or Somerset apple cake. Meanwhile, restored 17th-century inn Osip offers Michelin-starred dining for about $101 per person, plus four new bedrooms.

The pinnacle of any Somerset culinary odyssey is The Newt. One of the U.K.’s most fêted country estates, its hotel sits within 800 acres of woodland and orchards, and features both a kitchen and an ornamental garden. Food-focused experiences run the gamut from “Bee Safaris” to cream teas and “The Great Garden Escape” that brings guests from London on a first-class train ride for a day of tastings, tours, and lunch at the estate’s vegetable-led Garden Cafe.

How to do it: Great Western Railway offers direct service from London Paddington to Castle Cary, the closest train station. Journey time is about an hour and 40 minutes. —Orla Thomas

Why go now: International demand for agave drinks like tequila and mezcal is so strong that the Mexican government is considering expanding production of a lesser known agave spirit called bacanora beyond its origins in eastern Sonora. In response, tour operators are ramping up a new tasting route designed to support the families that have been distilling it for generations, allowing travelers to try the smoky liquor at the source.

The experience: In a little explored corner of the Sierra Madre Occidental of eastern Sonora, the revival of a once outlawed agave spirit is stirring up the sleepy ranching pueblos of Bacanora.

The drink has roots here stretching back to the Indigenous Ópata, who sipped the molasses-like concoction, made from roasted agave hearts, at ceremonies. By the 18th century, Sonoran families were raising glasses of a crystal clear, distilled version at weddings, quinceañeras, and baptisms. Then in 1915, Governor Plutarco Elías Calles blamed the spirit for causing moral decay and banned it. For nearly 80 years after, families distilled bacanora in 50-gallon drums and plastered pots buried in the brush in remote mountain areas. Bootlegging bacanora became both an act of cultural preservation and quiet political rebellion.

Today bacanora is once more legal and remains deeply tied to Sonoran identity. For drinkers new to mezcals—agave-based spirits often described as tequila’s stronger, smokier cousins—bacanora serves as a palatable introduction. Unlike most mezcals, it’s made from a singular type of agave without additives, resulting in a smoother tipple, some with notes of candied agave and an earthy minerality from the arid foothills.

Production is still largely artisanal, making the beverage nearly impossible to find in the United States, other than at an annual festival that gathers Sonoran distillers in southern Arizona. A controversial push to expand Bacanora’s Denomination of Origin would allow the spirit to be made outside eastern Sonora, raising fears about mass production and the loss of the traditional style that results in the drink’s prized smooth quality.

The emerging Ruta del Bacanora, organized by producers, nonprofit partners, and two binational tour groups, brings travelers to the source, supporting families’ sustainable small-scale production around Arivechi, Sahuaripa, Bacanora, and Ures. Visitors tour the traditional vinatas (distilleries), walk agave fields, observe the centuries-old distilling process, and sample spirits.

In the town of Bacanora, the Museo Estatal del Bacanora preserves copper stills, archival photographs, and contraband bottles that tell the story of the prohibition-era producers who kept the traditions alive. The historic colonial town of Ures, designated a Pueblo Mágico for its cultural significance, is a tranquil stop with colorful adobe homes and colonial mansions hemmed by river-fed gardens contrasting the pale desert mountains.

Outside of the Ruta del Bacanora, Sonora’s capital, Hermosillo, makes a good base for exploring the region’s unsung culinary riches, like bountiful seafood from the Sea of Cortez and arguably Mexico’s best beef from bacanora country. From there, the web of valleys across the Sierra Madre Occidental to the east shelters the 35 municipalities where hundreds of bacanora producers tend their stills.

How to do it: Hermosillo is the region’s gateway, with an international airport, rental cars, and lodging. In rural areas, Spanish will be helpful to independent travelers or those who join curated La Ruta del Bacanora tours. Borderlandia leads bilingual, multiday tours from Nogales, Arizona, in the spring and fall. The spring tour combines the trail with the Agave Heritage Festival (April 8-11, 2027) in Tucson, Arizona, starring Sonoran producers and their wares. —Rebecca Toy

Why go now: One of Turkey’s under-the-radar islands pairs laid-back beaches with Aegean cooking and millennia-old winemaking, all to the soundtrack of a jazz festival’s 10th anniversary.

The experience: At Turkey’s western edge, Bozcaada has long drawn locals for sun-soaked summer escapes in the Aegean. It isn’t difficult to see the appeal. The island is just a 30-minute ferry ride from the mainland, and it’s easy to navigate, at about two-thirds the size of New York’s Manhattan Island and ringed by beaches.

Once known as Tenedos and mentioned in Homer’s Iliad, Bozcaada’s history manifests in the kitchen, where Greek and Turkish influences sit side by side, shaped by what the island provides. Foraged herbs with Greek names find their way into crisp Turkish böreks, while Greek pastries emerge from ovens run by Turkish bakers.

All across the island, familiar Aegean-wide dishes make the most of the land and sea: locally caught sardines wrapped in grape leaves from nearby vineyards and grilled over charcoal; jars of heritage tomato-and-almond jam accompanying generous Turkish breakfast spreads.

From the moment travelers disembark here, they are pulled to mezze-laden tables crowding cobbled streets. At Koreli Restoran, overlooking Ayazma Beach in the island’s southwest, the same family has been preparing seafood mezzes since 1967. Meanwhile, Bozcaada Kadın Kooperatifi stocks its shelves with jams and dips made by a women’s cooperative on the island.

But perhaps the real draw are the wines sourced from the grapevines tumbling down hills around the island. Wine has been produced here and exported since at least the 5th century B.C. Small producers continue to press local grapes, such as Karalahna (deep, tannic reds) and Çavuş (soft, fruity whites). Vineyards offer plenty of tastings and tours, but the quintessential Bozcaada experience? Packing a couple bottles and settling on a west-side beach for unobstructed views of the sun dropping into the Aegean, turning the horizon crimson.

Late summer is the most rewarding time to visit, when the air is warm and vineyards buzz with the beginning of harvest. It also marks the start of the annual Bozcaada Jazz Festival (September 4-6), when live music fills the air and revelers join activities from foraging hikes to mixology sessions.

How to do it: Flights from Istanbul Airport connect daily to Çanakkale. From there, it’s just a one-and-a-half-hour drive to Geyikli, where car ferries run to Bozcaada. The town is walkable, but travelers can pick up minibuses and taxis. Car, bike, or scooter rentals are best for reaching remote beaches and vineyards across the island. —Berkok Yüksel

Why go now: As national attention subsides, travelers have the chance to gain a deeper appreciation for this Midwest city’s rich cultural roots.

The experience: The Minneapolis culinary map once zoomed in on Scandinavia. These days, it encompasses Somalia’s ancient Aromata spice port, Laos’s rice terraces, and Mexico’s heirloom maize fields, making the city one of the Midwest’s most vibrant food scenes. At the same time, diners are coming to a new appreciation of millennia-old Dakota and Anishinaabe traditions.

Those traditions center on manoomin, or wild rice, harvested for more than 2,000 years in the waters of northern Minnesota. At Sean Sherman’s Indigenous restaurant, recently renamed Indigena by Owamni, in the historic Mill District on the Mississippi riverfront, manoomin might come in three preparations: fried to intensify its nuttiness, tossed in a skillet with Northern Plains buffalo, or simmered into maple-sweetened porridge with pops of puckering chokecherries.

Ingredients native to the region drive the menu for Sherman, an Oglala Lakota from South Dakota, whose recent book Turtle Island explores Indigenous culinary history across North America. From venison and wild duck to spinachy lamb’s quarters and oregano-like bee balm, these animals and plants flourish across the glacial lakes, aspen forests, and big bluestem tallgrass prairie.

That regional mosaic also fuels one of the country’s most dynamic immigrant food scenes. In Northeast Minneapolis (“Nordeast” to locals), two acclaimed chefs from Minnesota’s Hmong community, many members of which resettled in the United States from Laos after conflicts including the Vietnam War, weave their culinary traditions into modern tastes. At Vinai, Yia Vang pays homage to many Hmong people’s highland roots in Laos with purple sticky rice and grilled “Hilltribe” chicken, fragrant with ginger, fish sauce, and coconut. At Diane’s Place in the Food Building—a hub for handcrafted food and drink, from cheese to non-alcoholic beverages—Diane Moua reimagines beef laab as carpaccio, brightened with fresh herbs and scallion aioli.

Nearby, at Oro by Nixta, married chef-owners Gustavo and Kate Romero turn out pescadillas using tortillas made from heirloom corn that’s been nixtamalized, the traditional process of soaking maize in alkaline water to unlock flavor and nutrients. Folded around walleye, a freshwater fish popular in the Upper Midwest, the dish riffs on the Mexican street classic and offers a snack-sized lesson in the cultural importance of maize.

Not all the city’s defining flavors come from chef-driven restaurants. Sambusas—flaky fried pastries stuffed with cumin- and coriander-spiced beef, lamb, or lentils—are a beloved comfort food across the Somali diaspora. In Minnesota, home to more than 100,000 people of Somali descent—more than any state in the U.S.—these crisp and savory handhelds circulate through everyday gathering places, from casual Cedar-Riverside cafés to the stalls of Karmel Mall in Whittier, often alongside cups of shaah, a cardamom-spiked black tea.

Earlier this year, as immigration raids rippled through the city, Somali community members brought trays of homemade sambusas to protest lines as offerings of sustenance and solidarity. Minneapolis has “really embraced many diverse cultures,” says Sherman. “There’s a lot of creativity” in all of that diversity.

How to do it: Minneapolis-Saint Paul International Airport is a major Delta hub. Metro Blue Line light rail connects the airport to downtown Minneapolis, which is compact and walkable. Rideshare, buses, and bike lanes make it easy to explore beyond the city center. —Leilani Marie Labong

Why go now: For years, Cape Town’s best and buzziest restaurants have been inspired by European cuisine. But the city is returning to its South African “soul food” roots at new spots and local favorites that many travelers may miss.

The experience: Cape Town has always been a top destination for fine food. In recent years, chefs around the city have been finding new menu inspiration in the simple, traditional South African comfort foods enjoyed at street stalls, taxi stands, and family tables.

“There is a focus on shared eating and the concept of a traditional Sunday lunch vibe,” says Rupesh Kassen, founder of Eat Like a Local food tours. “It’s a style of dining built into the very fabric of our culture.”

Heritage foods find the spotlight at places like Seven Colours Eatery at the busy V&A Waterfront in the city center, backed by views of Table Mountain. Nolukhanyo Dube-Cele opened the restaurant in 2022, where she highlights the namesake platter, a rainbow of rice, stewed meat, and vegetables that families have been sharing at Sunday gatherings and celebrations for generations. “I see it as something deeply symbolic of South Africa,” says Dube-Cele. “It reflects who we are as a country: diverse, colorful, and aspiring to be unified. It represents ubuntu, the idea of shared humanity.”

Umleqwa, the Xhosa word for “road runner chicken” is another cultural staple served at the restaurant. The stew is made from older or free-range chickens, slow-cooked for hours and often served with pap, a maize-based porridge, or samp (umngqusho in Xhosa), a mash made with dried corn kernels.

Near the city center, Bo-Kaap may be known among international travelers for its candy-colored homes, but restaurants here recall the 17th-century Muslim laborers who settled in Cape Town from Southeast Asia, with dishes like bobotie, a casserole of curried minced meat and egg. At Faeeza’s Home Kitchen, visitors learn how to cook Cape Malay dishes, such as curries and samosas.

In the Langa township, local tour guides bring travelers a taste of braai culture, the communal tradition of grilling meat deeply beloved across South Africa. Meanwhile, the Athlone suburb is a top spot for gatsbys, massive sandwiches stuffed with vinegary fries and masala steak or sausage slathered in fiery peri-peri sauce. Invented as an inexpensive meal for workers, they’re popular for sharing with friends and family.

Back at the waterfront, Gold Restaurant’s 14-dish set menu, a culinary tour of the continent, puts a modern spin on traditional ingredients and techniques. Bobotie fills flaky samosas and Xhosa imfino becomes patties—a handheld version of the traditional maize porridge made with imfino, the leafy green with a complex, yet treasured, history.

Dube-Cele credits younger chefs with bringing these foods into the mainstream, giving visitors a taste of Cape Town’s soul food history. “It’s food that brings people together,” she says, “and makes you feel at home.”

How to do it: The city center is 20 to 30 minutes by car from Cape Town International Airport. There are a variety of ways to get there, including authorized taxi or private car hire. Public transportation options include commuter buses, a number of rail services, and rideshares. —Kristen Pope

Why go now: The capital city’s cultural scene is getting a big glow-up, thanks to a couple of highly anticipated museum openings. At Queen Elizabeth Olympic Park, V&A East unveiled its new galleries and a café by well-regarded Jikoni, highlighting global flavors inspired by East London’s diverse community. Later this year, the London Museum is set to move into the renovated historic market halls at Smithfield, the city’s main site for selling livestock from the 12th century until the mid-19th century.

The experience: London is a world-class dining city, where a meal at a marquee chef-led restaurant can be a once-in-a-lifetime splurge. But travelers don’t have to look far to find the mom-and-pops and neighborhood stalwarts beyond the Michelin star buzz.

“London can be a pricey city to visit but filming there and really getting to know the landscape more, I realized it doesn’t have to be,” says Antoni Porowski, host of National Geographic’s upcoming series Best of the World with Antoni Porowski. “You just need to do a little digging.”

Among East London’s vintage shops and vinyl record stores, the food expert found local gem Beigel Bake. Open since 1974, the 24-hour bakery draws lines of Londoners along Brick Lane, waiting to order the “salt beef beigel”: a freshly baked, chewy bagel layered with thick-cut meat, fiery English mustard, and tangy pickles.

“The salt beef addition really made it a whole meal,” Porowski says, adding that the “beautifully chaotic” locale enhanced the experience.

It’s a fresh take on a food Porowski knows well, as the descendant of immigrants from Poland—the bagel’s birthplace—and a native of Montreal, where wood-fired bagels are popular at small shops like his favorite, St-Viateur Bagel.

In North London’s Islington, The Tamil Crown has been serving a South Asian twist on the traditional English Sunday roast since 2023. Here, Porowski, a self-taught cook, appreciated the swaps: fluffy, warm roti in lieu of Yorkshire pudding; Gobi 65, a deep-fried and spiced cauliflower dish instead of classic cauliflower cheese; and the star—slow-braised lamb shank, its flavor deepened with masala spices.

Porowski says visiting these two London gems speaks to one of his primary travel objectives. “The point of travel for me is taking in as much information as I can,” he says, “then seeing which dishes, ingredients, and techniques I want to bring home and share with everyone.”

How to do it: Beigel Bake is a 15- to 20-minute walk from the Liverpool Street and Whitechapel Stations on the London Underground (Tube) and a 10-minute walk from the Shoreditch High Street Station on the London Overground. The Tamil Crown is a short walk from the Angel Station on the Northern line (Bank branch) and a roughly 15-minute drive from central London. —Kwin Mosby