My British bestie, Rachael and I took a cooking class when we were traveling in the Loire Valley of France. The class was held in a cave where barrels and bottles of chenin blanc were aging in the cool air. Our instructor was a French woman named Anna who had set up a long table for us to prepare leek tarts made with creamy cheese and bacon. We rolled our pastry on the tabletop and then baked our tarts in a small portable oven Anna had brought with her.

This is a great way to use leftover mashed potatoes. I just add an egg and some garam masala, which is a spice blend available in your supermarket. I fry these little cakes and serve them at parties as a savory appetizer, but they’re also a nice accoutrement to a leafy salad.

Every table in Mexico is laden with bowls of salsa, ready to be spooned onto any dish that is presented. There are many variations of salsas, using both fresh and dried chiles, but my favorites are those whose ingredients have been fire-roasted, giving the salsa a smoky and earthy flavor.

In Athens, near Monastiraki Square, the streets are lined with restaurants serving gyros, kebabs, and platters of grilled meats. I’ve spent several afternoons sitting in wooden chairs at small tables eating platefuls of grilled lamb topped with French fries and tzatziki, the yogurt sauce flavored with garlic and fresh dill.

Crème brûlée is one of my treasured desserts for its minimalism and elegance. Whenever I order it at a restaurant, I quietly anticipate the blissful feeling of cracking its sugar coating just before digging into the velvety center. I mastered the art of getting every morsel into my mouth at a wine bar in the St. Germain district of Paris, where the pastry chef squeezed it in a thin shot glass with velvety chocolate on the bottom.

The Vines resort is nestled in the foothills of the Andes Mountains in the Mendoza region of Argentina. While staying there, I spent hours wandering around the outdoor kitchen area where numerous open fires were being tended to for preparation of the evening dinner. Under the portico there was a grill set between two brick walls where an iron grate laid across. At least a dozen whole fish were sizzling over the sparkling flames. The young chef proudly tended the fish, careful to cook them perfectly while I watched and asked questions of their preparation. He explained that the key to grilling fish is to keep the grates oiled well and watch closely to make sure they don’t burn.

There’s nothing quite like hiking through the ancient Inca ruins of Machu Picchu in Peru. We were the first to enter the gate one drizzly morning, and the clouds covered most of the views. After hours of walking and climbing, the sun finally peeked out and the clouds drew back, as if they were a curtain revealing a most spectacular stage set. The long day of admiring such beauty ended in the bar at the Sanctuary Lodge nearby, where I took a pisco tasting lesson from the elegant bartender. He presented 13 piscos for me to try, each different in its own way. The chef brought a steaming bowl of corn soup for dinner, which was a perfect pairing to the piscos.

Pastilla is one of the most glorious dishes in the Moroccan kitchen. It’s often served for special occasions and is similar to chicken pot pie. But the filling can also be made with seafood, quail, and pigeon. It may sound odd to read the ingredients that include both sweet and savory, but once you bite into this labor of love, you’ll understand why this golden pastry is so special. Don’t let the long recipe deter you. It is worth the time and effort and is a pièce de resistance.

I love shopping at my local farmers market, picking up seasonal vegetables and meats grown on farms near my home and not thousands of miles away. My favorite farmer is Nate, a California native who moved to Oklahoma to go to college. He fell in love with my home state and bought a farm where he has raised pigs, chickens, turkeys, and beef for the past 5 years. His business, Prairie Creek Farms, has flourished, and the meat he sells is some of the best I’ve ever tasted. The jalapeno brats are my favorite, and if I’m not grilling them in the summer, I’m braising them in beer during the colder months.

I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, but I love a good carrot cake. I’ve tried many different recipes, some with pineapple and raisins, and others with nuts. I like them all, but this one has no fruit and plenty of pecans.

One of the most classic Peruvian dishes is Aji de Gallina, a rich chicken stew blended with nuts and aji Amarillo. It appeared on menus all over Lima, and nearly every Peruvian cook had her recipe, claiming it to be the best.

When I visit Tel Aviv, Israel, I get up early in the morning to walk through the Carmel Market. I love to watch the merchants set out their colorful fruits and vegetables, stacking them in perfect formation next to wooden crates full of nuts and dried fruits. Spice merchants scoop mounds of pungent seeds and pods into paper bags for early morning shoppers, many who are chefs in the city. I’ve taken home several bags of nuts and spices, saving them to put into scrumptious salads, stews, and sauces. I call this salad “autumn salad” because it reminds me of the colors of fall, orange from the squash, red from pomegranate, and hues of green from lettuces.

When I was in my early twenties, I had just married and had very little experience cooking. My new husband and I began attending a small church where the ladies were pros at cooking crock-pot dishes for the potluck dinners. This cheeseburger soup appeared often, and someone finally shared the recipe with me. That was nearly thirty years ago, and I still make this soup as soon as the weather gets chilly. My kids grew up on this treasure and I’m happy to share it with anyone, as someone did with me many years ago.

It was a humid and sticky night in Ubud, and my friends and I went to dinner at a popular restaurant known best for its whole roasted pig. Diana was a pescatarian and hated to see pigs spinning over open fire, which was exactly what was happening inside the restaurant. She chose the fish soup for her dinner, and I have to admit it was better than any pork dish I sampled that night. It was served in bowls made of coconut shells, and topped with fresh greens and sprouts. I’ve done my best to replicate that soup, and I’ve come very close. I use whatever white fish I can get at the time, and often I squeeze lime juice into each bite for a little extra zing.

Focaccia is a bread with ancient origins, and although it is prepared differently all over Italy, it remains a staple on most Italian dinner tables. Historically, it was cooked either over hot stones or on the hearth of a wood-fire oven, similar to flatbreads in other cultures. It is always topped with olive oil, and often with fresh herbs and other ingredients such as olives and onions.

I’ve never been a big fan of cauliflower, but when I was in the little town of Tours, France I had the most delicious bowl of cauliflower soup. It was warm and creamy, and decorated with the loveliest flowers and fresh herbs.

If I learned anything about the way food is cooked in Patagonia, it’s that the main ingredient is fire. Nearly every meal I ate, and dish I prepared was either baked in a wood-fired oven or on a spit or grill over roaring flames. It was the end of spring when I visited the Chilean side of Patagonia and many of the vegetables had just ripened. They were drizzled with olive oil and roasted over flames next to beef or lamb, and sometimes buried in the ash to cook slowly in the hot embers.

Every morning at the Riad La Sultana in Marrakesh, I ate breakfast in the courtyard surrounded by tropical flowers and towering palm trees. By the third morning of my stay, the waitstaff knew to send me a plateful of beghrir, spongy pancakes covered with tiny holes resembling a honeycomb. On my last day, I was asked if I’d like to meet the chef and learn to make Beghrir in the hotel kitchen. I eagerly accepted the offer and followed my server to the pristine kitchen where four female cooks were busily prepping the day’s menu.

Argentina boasts some of the best steaks in the world, mostly due to the way they raise their cattle. Very happy cows graze in the lush pastures called “Las Pampas”, resulting in lean and very flavorful meat. The city of Buenos Aires has countless parrillas steakhouses where cuts of beef are grilled and seasoned with nothing more than salt.