A Guide to Barbecue Around the World—in All Its Tangy, Spicy, and Charred Glory

When I was growing up in Atlanta, my dad grilled almost every weekend. It was often impromptu, but folks were bound to show up as soon as they found out he was making Puerto Rican–style churrasco—tender beef skirt steak marinated in garlic, lime, oregano, and black pepper, and seared to perfection. After all, there are few things as intoxicating as the smell of barbecue. Whether it’s charred chicken on skewers or caramelized sweet potatoes, the smoky aroma of grilled food lures people toward roadside stands and into neighbors’ backyards around the world. Barbecue is an invitation to gather, often outdoors, and to share a meal—it is, arguably, among the most sumptuous global traditions.

Americans have a habit of thinking they invented barbecue, particularly in states such as Texas and Tennessee, famous for slow-cooked brisket and dry-rubbed ribs respectively. It is, however, far from an American concept. Slow cooking by fire and smoke is among the oldest ways of preparing food. Nearly every culture has its own take.

The term barbecue, in fact, comes from the Taino word barbacoa. Today the term often refers to a Central Mexican dish, typically lamb or goat slow-cooked in maguey leaves (more on that below). But for the Tainos, the Indigenous tribe that inhabited Puerto Rico, the Dominican Republic, and much of the Caribbean until the mid–16th century, the word referred to a platform made of wood set over a fire, allowing smoke to billow up and both preserve and season the ingredients above (in essence, an ancient smoker). It's a backstory illustrative of the tangled roots and layered histories that underscore much of present-day barbecue.

“Indigenous cooks in the Americas laid the foundation for what we now call barbecue,” says Adrian Miller, a James Beard Award–winning food writer, author of Black Smoke, and certified barbecue judge, who has studied the cuisine’s history as part of his work on American soul food. “Later, colonizing Europeans and enslaved Africans mixed their meat-cooking traditions with Native American techniques to develop barbecue in the American South, particularly in Virginia.” For centuries, that meant entire animals like pigs, goats, and sheep, or massive cow quarters, over a pit filled with burning hardwood coals. As Miller puts it, the resulting technique is distinct, something you don’t find anywhere else.

Today the same can be said of Japanese yakitori. And Bedouin zarb. And Jamaican jerk. “It's interesting that such diverse grilling traditions bring us together under the umbrella term of barbecue,” says Miller. “It's just another example that there's room at the cookout for everyone.”

The origins of the marinades used, cooking techniques, and drinks thrown back between bites of meat reflect unique histories and culture. Sometimes the stories that barbecue tells are spiritual, such as in the Peruvian Andes, where the ancestral process of cooking meat, tubers, and wild herbs in an earthen oven involves a ceremonial offering to Mother Earth, yet is always protected by a wooden cross stuck atop the oven, a mark of Spanish colonizers' impact. Other traditions tell stories of resilience, as in Korean barbecue—one of a few examples of indoor grilling in this collection—where once-limited access to meat led to cheap, tough cuts requiring marination to make them softer and toothsome, resulting in intensely flavored garlic-, ginger-, and soy-based sauces.

In many places, barbecue is characterized by more than the main dish. Sides are more than a supporting act; from tangy pickles to breads for sopping up the remnants of juicy meat and sauces, these tend to hold the same level of emotional attachment as the centerpiece ingredients, and they also require the labor of additional hands—barbecue is, after all, a largely community effort. To eat someone's food is to know them, and this is most true for the labor of love that is barbecue. The guide below is far from comprehensive when it comes to rounding up what you may find around the world, but it’s a tasty start.

Follow it to discover a Jamaican jerk shack in Kingston and a dish developed by Maroons, who buried seasoned meat in the ground in order to evade detection by pursuing enslavers, or to be inspired to travel to Argentina and seek out an asado—where gaucho traditions live on in the form of large weekend gatherings around charred beef. If nothing else, consider this a reminder to follow the scent of smoke on your next trip. Chances are, it will lead you to somewhere filled with locals, and promise flavors that, in just a few bites, can get you to the heart of a place. —Von Diaz

Asia

Jordan: Zarb

As stars speckle the inky desert sky, the aroma of roasted meat wafts into the camp of goat-hair woven tents. Here in Jordan, the Bedouin—nomadic Arab tribespeople—have roamed the sands for centuries. Their nomadic lifestyle impacted their cooking options, resulting in zarb—meat cooked in an underground sand oven. It’s prepared with sparse equipment: a pit dug in the sand, filled with fiery hot coals, then with hot stones or modernized iron racks, and topped with palm-wrapped proteins. The whole structure is covered with blankets and sand for two to three hours. All are welcome to enjoy, as the Bedouin are known for their hospitality—essential in these harsh climates. These days, find zarb in Jordan’s deserts or in the capital city of Amman.

What’s cooking? Palm-leaf- or foil-wrapped lamb and goat, or crisp-skinned chicken that was marinated in lemon juice, garlic, salt, and pepper. Also, carrots, onions, potatoes, and a pot of rice.

What’s served on the side? Jordanian shrak (flatbread), hummus, mutabal (roasted eggplant dip), chopped tomato, and cucumber salad.

Whom are you eating with? It’s a shared meal enjoyed in the desert at a Bedouin camp. Everyone is welcome.

What's everybody drinking? Black Bedouin tea with mint or Bedouin coffee using green Arabic coffee beans.

Where to try it: Some of the best include Bedouinroads in Wadi Rum for its juicy lamb, or Petra Marriott Hotel for seated dinners overlooking the Petra mountains. —Kaila Yu

Japan: Yakitori

Think Japan, think raw fish? Think again—the country is home to an intense grilling culture, which sets the foundation for some of the most delicious Japanese culinary institutions, like okonomiyaki and yakiniku. But humble yakitori is by far the most pervasive and perhaps the most beloved. Yakitori—literally, “grilled bird”—refers to chicken skewers seasoned with salt or slathered with tangy Japanese barbecue sauce, then grilled over white charcoal for a distinctive charred flavor. It’s one of Japan’s tastiest cheap bites, enjoyed at festivals, yakitori-ya (yakitori restaurants), or izakaya (gastropubs). Wherever you eat yakitori, handle the skewer with your fingers, and after nibbling it clean, chuck it in the nearby stick box—there’s almost always one nearby. Order one variety at a time, starting from “lightest” (salted or spiced) to “heaviest” (drenched in sauce).

What's on the grill? Yakitori is primarily associated with chicken, and you’ll find every single part of the bird pierced and grilled, from momo (thigh) to sunagimo (gizzards), and even hatsu (hearts) and reba (liver—just trust us). You’ll also see vegetables like shiitake mushrooms and shishito peppers, and, in certain cities, different seasonings or even other meats, like Muroran’s famous mustard-flavored pork skewers.

What’s served on the side? Typically, rice or cold veggies, like raw cabbage or pickles to munch on between bites.

Who’s cooking? The chef, who’ll ask how you want your yakitori seasoned (trust their expert recommendations).

Whom are you eating with? Friends and coworkers; yakitori is the quintessential after-work snack.

What's everybody drinking? Draft beer, usually Asahi or Kirin.

Where to try it: Yakitori-ya and izakaya are everywhere–just look for the red lanterns, or nationwide chains like Torikizoku. Cult favorite Shibuya Morimoto in Tokyo offers a true old-school yakitori experience. At the polar opposite end of the yakitori spectrum, try the Michelin-starred Yakitori Ichimatsu in Osaka. —Eva Sandoval

Korea: Korean barbecue

For much of South Korea’s history, meat was scarce and only cooked on special occasions. The country’s transformation into an economic powerhouse has changed this, and now barbecue is everywhere—with restaurants nationwide packed with patrons eating, laughing, and drinking to the soundtrack of sizzling meat. There’s just something about huddling around a smoky tabletop grill that brings everyone closer together. Whether it’s a raucous, spit-and-sawdust joint serving up cheap cuts of pork or an elegant eatery featuring the highest-grade Hanwoo beef, barbecue in Korea is about much more than the food: It’s a ritual deeply woven into the social fabric of the nation.

What's on the grill? Though methods like dry aging are beginning to catch on, fresh, unseasoned cuts of pork or beef are king: Samgyeopsal (pork belly), moksal (pork collar), galbi (rib meat), and bulgogi (thinly sliced marinated beef) are most popular.

What’s served on the side? Lettuce, garlic, white onions, mushrooms, chile peppers, ssamjang (red bean paste), and a kaleidoscope of banchan such as pajeori (green onion salad), kongnamul muchim (mixed bean sprouts), kkaennip jangajji (pickled perilla leaves), and kimchi, along with doenjang-jjigae (bean paste stew), and naengmyeon (cold noodles)

Who’s cooking? The tabletop barbecue setup is designed for customers to do the grilling from their seats—though these days, trained restaurant staff often take charge.

Whom are you eating with? Family or friends, and often coworkers at company dinners known as hweshik.

What's everybody drinking? Cold beer and soju, Korea’s clear firewater served in little green bottles

Where to try it: When in Seoul, stop by Gold Pig for the best samgyeopsal, Majang Meat Market for the freshest Hanwoo beef, or dine on galbi and bulgogi in the shadow of presidents at the historic Han Il Kwan. If you’re outside of Seoul, you won’t have to look too hard for a good barbecue restaurant, since they’re found in almost every city and town—just follow that seductive scent of grilling meat. —Chris Tharp

Philippines: Inihaw

The world of Filipino barbecue, inihaw, is expansive. It’s spit-roasted lechon (suckling pig), prepared over an open fire for a special occasion. But it’s also skewered meat, marinated in a sweet, sticky marinade, being grilled on every corner. As Manila comes back to life after one of the world’s strictest lockdowns, hungry workers, once again, crowd around their favorite barbecue shacks, dunking their skewers into cups of sawsawan, a sharp vinegar-based dipping sauce that rounds off the caramelized sweetness of the meat. The skewers make it easy for you to enjoy the meal standing, but if you can, grab a plastic chair off the sidewalk and take in the collegial atmosphere of everyone’s favorite neighborhood lunch spot.

What’s on the grill? Filipinos believe in using every part of the animal, so expect a variety of meat. There will be different parts of chicken and pork and sometimes a whole stuffed bangus, a popular local milkfish.

What’s served on the side? Rice—and plenty of sawsawan for dipping.

Whom are you eating with? Workers and friends from the neighborhood.

What's everybody drinking? If it’s after work, San Miguel Light beers.

Where to try it: In Manila, pick up some skewered meat from Bebeng’s BBQ, nestled inside a residential neighborhood in Makati, and for bangus, the popular grilled milkfish, visit Pochok Bangusan in Quezon City. —Maryam Jillani

Southeast Asia: H'mong barbecue

As Hmong people have settled across Myanmar, Thailand, Laos, Vietnam, and southern China, many Hmong dishes have adopted flavors of the community’s new homes. But one barbecue tradition has followed the diaspora from rural areas of Southeast Asia to major cities in the past few decades, with a notable footprint in Thailand. Today, the smell of sizzling pork and fish cooked over an open hardwood flame wafts through vendor-lined streets from Bangkok to Chiang Mai, where travelers can find Hmong grillers tucked into the stalls of Thai markets, selling flavorful meat as the honks of tuk-tuks create an urban symphony in the background. The tradition continues in Hmong homes, where hisses of fat hitting the flame punctuate stories being passed down from generation to generation.

What's on the grill? From fish like branzino to pork and beef, the meat—seasoned with lemongrass, salt, and MSG, and spiced with Thai chili peppers—is turned over makeshift grates with tongs made from split bamboo.

What's served on the side? Once pulled off the grill, the jerky-like result is coupled with sticky rice and wrapped in banana leaves for a meal on the go, or stewed with braised mustard greens.

Who’s cooking? Men are typically the ones doing the cooking, though women—usually responsible for the side dishes—step in as needed. Chances are you’ll spot a father behind the grill while his son watches and learns nearby.

Whom are you eating with? Hmong barbecue is both an everyday method for preparing a meal as well as the centerpiece of family and community celebrations.

What is everybody drinking?: Kabocha squash water-tea, a semisweet drink made from boiled squash.

Where to try it: Find Hmong barbecue on streets of Thai cities; in Chiang Mai, head to the food stalls outside Warorot Market. Stateside, Chef Yia Vang has brought the practice to Minneapolis with pop-ups of his soon-to-be brick and mortar Hmong restaurant, Vinai. —Cinnamon Janzer

Oceania

Australia: The Sausage Sizzle

Nothing quite encapsulates the Aussie “fair dinkum” attitude like sausage sizzles; they’re part of the national psyche. The sausage sizzle doesn’t flaunt its riches like a full-scale barbecue with bloated sides and various meats. At this egalitarian feed, you’ll find plain sausages (“snags”) cradled in supermarket white bread to make a sanga sandwich. It requires little effort and few condiments—tomato sauce (don’t ever call it ketchup) is a must, while grilled onions, mustard, and barbecue sauce can divide opinions. Always a public affair, the sausage sizzle is most often used for low-key fundraisers that pull friends, family, and neighbors together across Australia, in regional bush towns and well-heeled inner-city suburbs alike—particularly at elbow-rubbing community spots like kids’ sporting matches and surf clubs. In recent years, these events have become part of the political landscape too: A suited politician joining the masses in eating a sausage-sizzle sanga can make front-page news, and on election day, sausage sizzles are found at polling booths across the country, where for that day only they’re known as “democracy sausages.”

What's on the grill? A value pack of thin beef or pork sausages and (maybe) rings of white onion.

What’s served on the side? Nothing besides a pile of white bread and help-yourself condiments. The no-frills ethos is critical to the sausage sizzle.

Who’s cooking? Volunteers and some conscripts, like parents if it’s a school fundraiser.

Whom are you eating with? It’s a casual bite during small-scale charity events and fetes, served on a disposable napkin as you catch up with fellow members of the community.

What's everybody drinking? Non-alcoholic drinks like soda, coconut water, and natural sugar-free drinks.

Where to try it: Home-improvement chain store Bunnings has become synonymous with the sausage sizzle (seriously). Most weekends in the majority of their shops across Australia, you will find this basic barbecue setup in the parking lot. If you happen to be in Australia during an election, there is a website dedicated to finding your closest democracy sausage. —Chloe Sachdev

Fiji: Lovo

As smoke billows through their backyard, father and son wave two-foot taro leaves over a three-foot hole filled with kindling and wood to light it on fire. Next, volcanic stones, which retain heat, are placed onto the handmade underground oven. This is the way to prepare a lovo, which translates to “feast cooked in the Earth.” Once the blaze calms, different meats wrapped in banana leaves are lowered into the pit, then covered with coconut leaves and dirt to cook for at least two hours. It’s a weekly ritual for families in Fiji—most of whom have their own lovo pit—with the diversity and quantity of foods reflecting prestige and community. Variations of the lovo, which originated in ancient Polynesia, can also be found in Samoa, Tonga, Hawaii, and Tahiti.

What's on the grill? Parrotfish, legs of pork, and whole chicken are carefully wrapped in beautifully braided banana leaves. Also on the grill is palusami (canned corned beef and coconut cream wrapped in taro leaf); starchy breadfruit; and kumala—a local purple-tinged sweet potato.

What’s served on the side? Salads of wild bush fern, coconut- and lime-infused miti sauce, tomato chutney, and kokoda (a Fijian-style ceviche), plus cassava cake made sweet with coconut, and tiny, popping spheres of nama (sea grapes).

Whom are you eating with? This is either a Sunday dinner for Fijian households, or the centerpiece for a special occasion such as a wedding banquet, a festival, or a community gathering.

What's everybody drinking? A lovo is often followed by kava: The earthy drink—made from the Piper methysticum tree root—can be numbing and has light psychoactive effects.

Where to try it: Many Fiji resorts offer lovo on certain nights. For restaurants, Tukuni in Lautoka serves a delicate, locally caught tavu fish cooked in a lovo; Kanalevu Kitchen in Suva offers lovo lunch packs to go; and Palm Grove Restaurant in Savusavu includes an impressive whole-roasted pumpkin stuffed with rice on its lovo menu. —K.Y.

Africa

Ghana: Chichinga

To find chichinga, Ghana’s most famous barbecue, just follow the smell of char, sizzling fat, and spice from any outdoor marketplace, street corner, or celebration in Ghana. Originating from the Hausa people in Northern Ghana, it made its way south and quickly became popular throughout the rest of the country and West Africa (for example, suya in Nigeria). Chichinga stands are ubiquitous throughout Accra, Ghana’s capital, and in nearly every region throughout the country—and the food they serve is firmly ingrained as one of the nation’s most beloved street foods.

What’s on the grill? Cubes of beef, pork, mutton, or goat, along with thick slices of green bell peppers and onions, are skewered, then covered in yaji (or suya) spice—a blend of dried hot pepper, ground peanuts, dried ginger, and more—and grilled over hot coals.

What’s served on the side? It depends on the time and location—for a quick snack at Labadi Beach or after a long night enjoying Ghana’s vibrant nightlife, a few skewers are all you’ll need. For celebrations, chichinga is usually accompanied by jollof rice and Ghanaian salad.

Who’s cooking? Roadside chichinga stands usually have a person (or two) manning the operation, taking orders, and grilling the meat to order.

What’s everybody drinking? Depending on the location or occasion, chichinga is often accompanied by Ghana's Club or Star Beer, or sobolo, a refreshing drink made from steeping dried hibiscus flowers.

Where to try it: For some of the best chichinga in Accra, locals love the roadside stand in front of Perfect Touch Restaurant in Dzorwulu and by Dimaensa in Abelemkpe. —Vonnie Williams

Mozambique: Peri peri

So good are the sweet-and-hot flavors of Mozambique’s barbecues that Nando’s developed 1,300 chicken restaurants in 23 countries inspired by its peri-peri sauce. Its key ingredient is the bird’s-eye chile, known as pil-pil (or pili-pili—hence the name) in Swahili and brought to the Mozambican coast by 15th-century Portuguese explorers. Traditionally made by sun-fermenting chiles in oil, garlic, onions, vinegar, salt, and lemon juice, plus herbs, spices, and occasionally coconut, the peri-peri sauce is used liberally at barbecues as a marinade and a baste, with results that range from tongue-tingling to eye-wateringly hot. Throughout Mozambique, every day of the week, roadside fires and restaurant kitchens sizzle with a mix of meat and seafood grilled with peri-peri.

What's on the grill? Frango assado (peri-peri-marinated chicken); king prawns cooked in their shells; and steamed crab, served with lemon wedges and peri-peri sauce.

What’s served on the side? Rice, cooked with lemon or coconut; paõ (white bread rolls), fries, or xima (a corn-flour porridge) to mop up the sauce; fire-blackened corn cobs; and sometimes matapa (spiced, peanutty cassava leaves) or mucapata (coconut-scented mung beans). Plus, if you’re lucky, a finger bowl to rinse off your chile-coated hands.

Who’s cooking? A multitalented fire master, as adept at keeping the fire going as they are at basting and flipping prawns.

Whom are you eating with? No one can resist the smell of flame-cooked garlic, chile, and coconut—whether you’re an international guest at Azura Boutique Retreats' Peri-Peri Beach Club or a bus traveler waiting beside a small roadside barraca blasting Afro-folk marrabenta tunes.

What's everybody drinking? Local Laurentina lager or cold Portuguese rosé; the brave might sip an R&R, a cocktail mixed with fiery Tipo Tinto rum and raspberry Sparletta soda.

Where to try it: Surrounded by palms and with a tropical cocktail at Botanica, or after sushi on a sea-facing balcony at Zambi—both in Maputo. —Lisa Grainger

South Africa: Shisa nyama

Around the blaze of the braai—or “grill” in Afrikaans—loud music blares while hungry bystanders sway their hips. It’s an informal barbecue gathering in South Africa known as shisa nyama—meaning “hot meat” in Zulu. Although shisa nyama can take place in a family’s backyard, the best spots are often in South Africa’s townships—mostly Black enclaves that are a product of apartheid. The South African passion for grilled meat means that shisa nyama unites people from all strata of society: You can usually find one next to a butcher shop, where you can buy—and braai—meat cooked on the spot over charcoal or wood grills.

What's on the grill? Fatty cuts of braised meat, including kebabs, pork or beef ribs, chicken, pork and lamb chops, and boerewors—a sausage of spiced pork and beef.

What’s served on the side? Chakalaka—a relish of curry powder, peppers, chiles, vegetables, and beans; coleslaw; mieliepap, a.k.a. pap—a maize porridge; hot chips—fried potato salad; and umxhaxha—sweet and savory corn and pumpkin.

Whom are you eating with? It’s a communal gathering after work, while barhopping, catching up with friends, waiting for your car wash, or for any reason at all.

What's everybody drinking? Alcohol; beer like Amstel lager, South African brands like Castle Lite, or Namibia’s Windhoek Lager. Or an ice-cold soda.

Where to try it: Chaf Pozi in Johannesburg’s Soweto township for chicken wings and charred-meat platters; Tate’s Kasi Grill in Durban for hookah and juicy spiraled rolls of boerewors; and BUSY CORNER Imbizo Shisanyama in Ebony Park for chili and cumin-spiced T-bone steaks. —K.Y.

North America & the Caribbean

Dominican Republic: Parrillada

Música, merengue, y bachata. ¡Qué chevere! The smell of charcoal-broiled meat is in the air. You definitely want to be a part of this delicious fun—a Dominican parrillada. Common in the Dominican Republic and in Dominican communities outside the island, these family- and community-based outdoor barbecues are a get-together on the patio, at the beach, or in the park. Meats are typically grilled over charcoal, and, like American barbecues at home, parrilladas are relaxed, fun, and casual.

What's on the grill? A parrillada mixta, or mixed grill of charcoal-broiled meats; costillas dominicanas (barbecued ribs); chicken on the grill; pinchos de pollo (skewered chicken); steak; longanizas (Dominican sausages); and more. Also making an appearance is the Dominican burger chimi—short for chimichurri. Unlike the Argentinean green sauce made from parsley, minced garlic, olive oil, oregano, and red wine vinegar, chimichurri (the burger) is a sauce-dripping sandwich topped with tomatoes, mildly pickled red onions, shredded cabbage, and a dollop of mayo-ketchup.

What’s served on the side? Ensalada rusa (Russian potato salad), ensalada de coditos (elbow-macaroni pasta salad), papas fritas (french fries), tostones (twice-fried plantains), yuca, and corn on the cob.

Who’s cooking? Probably you. Like a parrillada itself, cooking is a community affair—with the host supplying the lion’s share of food and folks bringing a dish or two. Take turns manning the grill, or designate someone to flip the meats while you go eat and socialize.

Whom are you eating with? Anyone and everyone, una parrillada Dominicana is all about coming together and socializing over great food, drink, and even better company. 

What's everybody drinking? Country Club Frambuesa (a type of soda), Champola (fruit juices), ice-cold beer, and wine. If you can find it in the United States: Mabi. This is a sweet, Indigenous Taino drink that’s traditionally fermented, often fizzy, nonalcoholic, and refreshing.

Where to try it: The island is hardly short on parrilla restaurants. D'Luis Parrillada or La Parrilla, both in Santo Domingo, are great options. —Marisel Salazar

Jamaica: Jerk

Traditionally, pork and chicken are smoked over smoldering fires suspended on pimento wood, while breadfruit roasts in the embers. This style, Jamaican jerk, began in the 17th century when escaped enslaved people (Maroons) and surviving Indigenous Taino on the island captured wild hogs, preserved them with pimento (allspice), salt, and bird pepper chiles, wrapped them in leaves, and cooked them underground. After emancipation, jerk—also the name for the dish—traveled from the mountains to Jamaica’s Boston Bay, in Port Antonio, where it was first sold commercially. Today, recipes vary, but ginger, thyme, Scotch bonnet chiles, scallion, and pimento are essential. Traditional jerk drums, oil barrels split in half and turned into barbecues, are ubiquitous, offering a convenient and alternative way of grilling.

What’s on the grill? Pork, chicken, shrimp, fish, lobster, and sometimes goat.

What’s served on the side? Roasted breadfruit, yams, and sweet potato, plus festival dumplings, rice and peas, pressed plantains, and pepper sauce made from Scotch bonnets.

Who’s cooking? It’s a team effort—a couple of people take orders, others tend the flames, and one person is always on breadfruit-cutting duty.

Whom are you eating with? Everyone: Families, individuals, friends, and couples sit to eat, while others collect big orders to take home. For some, enjoying jerk is a day-off activity, while for others it’s a quick lunch before returning to work.

What's everybody drinking? A cold Red Stripe beer or Kola Champagne.

Where to try it: The best spots in Jamaica include Boston Jerk Pork Center in Boston Bay, Kingston Jerk, and Ocho Rios Jerk Center. —Melissa Thompson

Mexico: Barbacoa

As dawn breaks all over central Mexico on Sunday mornings, pitmasters wipe the mud from the lid of their hoyo, the underground oven, and begin the process of pulling out tender lamb. Sundays are for barbacoa, and in the stretch of central Mexico that includes Querétaro, Hidalgo, and both the city and state of Mexico, that means maguey-leaf-wrapped lamb, buried deep in a hole in the ground, and cooked overnight atop hot coals. Indigenous people around the Caribbean and Mexico have long used the same pit- and steam-cooking method to cook everything from armadillos to turkeys. Lamb was introduced by European settlers, which adapted well to both the central highlands and the pit-cooking and has been used ever since.

What’s cooking? Hidalgo-style barbacoa uses whole lamb, broken down into parts with only salt seasoning the rich meat, though it soaks up additional flavor from the smoke and maguey leaves.

What’s served on the side? Fresh tortillas and a selection of salsas—including salsa borracha (drunk salsa), named for the pulque used in making it. Also expect consomé, a chickpea soup made in a pan beneath the meat in the pit, where it catches the drippings.

Who’s cooking? Most barbacoa restaurants are family affairs, with the role of barbacoyero passed down through generations of patriarchs.

Whom are you eating with? Barbacoa is mostly a family meal, consumed by big groups and multiple generations, often to celebrate a holiday, birthday, or other special event.

What is everybody’s drinking?: Colorful aguas frescas—flavored waters—as well as pulque, a drink made of lightly fermented agave sap.

Where to try it: Third-generation family-run Barbacoa Renatos cooks lamb in the same room they serve it in on Sundays, a rarity in Mexico City. El Hidalguense serves barbacoa in La Roma Friday through Sunday. —Naomi Tomky

New England: Clambake

New Englanders have to make the most of their precious warmer months, so it should come as no surprise that, come summer, special occasions are often celebrated with clambakes all along the coast. The alfresco take on barbecue utilizes the region’s abundant seafood, which gets slow-cooked over a bed of seaweed on hot coals—originated by Native American tribes of the area, it has been borrowed by New Englanders since the 18th century. The result: a cornucopia of seafood and sides that come out moist, smoky, a little briny, and utterly scrumptious.

What's on the grill? From Rhode Island up to Maine, every region has their variations, but a classic clambake includes fresh lobsters, clams, mussels, ears of corn, potatoes, and some sort of sausage like linguiça or kielbasa (reflective of New England’s robust Portuguese and Polish populations, respectively).

What’s served on the side? In Massachusetts, Cape Cod clambakes tend to favor cranberry desserts, while Mainers go for whoopie pies or blueberry cake.

Who’s cooking? It’s pretty impossible to mess up a clambake—you essentially put seawater-soaked canvas tarp over the coal and seafood, letting everything steam for an hour or two—making it a low-risk, high-reward approach to cooking for a crowd that most anyone can handle.

Whom are you eating with? Because of the firepit labor involved, clambakes tend to be for special occasions, like weddings and family reunions.

What's everybody drinking? A light and refreshing rosé, Arnold Palmers, and plenty of cold beers—preferably from Cisco Brewers or Narragansett Beer.

Where to try it: A number of higher-end hotels in the region offer summer clambakes, such as Rhode Island’s Weekapaug Inn and Ocean House; on Cape Cod, Twenty-Eight Atlantic (inside the Wequassett Resort and Golf Club) does clambakes on request, and the Chatham Bars Inn has its own permanent clambake space on the beach. In Maine, Cabbage Island Clambakes offers all-inclusive half-day trips that include a boat tour followed by a traditional Maine clambake on a private island. If you aren’t able to get out of Boston proper, the quirky Barking Crab offers a traditional clambake meal in the heart of Seaport—and you don’t even have to dig a hole in the sand to enjoy it. —Todd Plummer

Virginia: Whole hog barbecue

Though other states try to stake their claim, there's much reason to believe that Virginia is the birthplace of American barbecue. Not Texas, not Kansas City or St. Louis; rather, those present-day barbecue traditions are evolutions of what started in Virginia, which has been verified by documents dating back to the 18th century. Traditional Virginia barbecue means a whole hog (although chicken, ox, lamb, and goat have also been used) cooked over a pit filled with coals for anywhere from five to twelve hours, depending on the size of the hog and the weather.

The tradition blends Indigenous cooking techniques from Powhatan and other tribes, with vinegar brought by European settlers, later perfected by enslaved and free African American pitmasters like Juba and Mandy Garth and Thomas Griffin. Early barbecues in Virginia were celebratory or held to gain political favor—either way, they were rooted in community, not commodity, much like the barbecues that happen in church and Rotary Club parking lots, backyards, and festivals throughout the state today.

What's on the grill? Whole hogs are roasted with a basting sauce of butter, red pepper, and vinegar, yet chicken and pork are most common these days.

What’s served on the side? Freshly shucked and grilled corn on the cob, macaroni and cheese, baked beans flavored with pieces of barbecue pork, and creamy potato salad (either served chilled with a mayonnaise base, or warm with a mustard foundation)

Who’s cooking? A pitmaster using techniques passed down from generation to generation—you’re tasting history in every bite

Whom are you eating with? Virginia barbecues are community and family events. The preparation of a whole hog is so labor intensive, it’s saved for special occasions.

What's everybody drinking? Cans of beer—anything goes, from Bud Light to local craft brews like Starr Hill—alongside sweet tea. Plastic cups filled with bourbon often keep pitmasters warm as they attend cooking hogs throughout the night.

Where to try it: Shenandoah Autumn Fest (prepared by Craig George and Justin Wightman, owners of 1752 Barbecue) for whole hog barbecue in October, Southern Grit Magazine’s Barbecue Wars (an annual barbecue competition usually in August or September) for the best barbeque in the Hampton Roads area, Original Ronnie’s BBQ for pulled pork, and Redemption BBQ & Market for barbecue pork shoulder sandwiches. —Debra Freeman

South America

Argentina: Asado

Your team won the polo match? Asado. Your team lost the polo match? Asado. Birthday party, Christmas lunch, the first warm afternoon of summer? Asado. The word itself refers to both the act of barbecuing meats and the social event of gathering around them. These are long, unrushed affairs that descend from the cooking techniques of nomadic cowhands in the 18th century, when gauchos would slow-cook entire cows, piece by piece, over a fire and share stories of their adventures across the pampas of Patagonia. Today, asado is so ubiquitous that meteorologists on TV in Argentina won’t tell you if it’s going to be rainy or sunny on the weekend—they’ll tell you if you can have an asado outdoors or not.

Don’t expect cloyingly sweet barbecue sauces or complicated marinades here–to ensure that natural flavors shine through, the meat on offer (primarily beef) is typically just sprinkled with a little salt, then slow-roasted to perfection over a parrilla wood-fire barbecue grill. Today, there are regional variations such as the Patagonian “a la cruz” cooking method of slow-roasting an animal in its skin to retain maximum juices; the addition of river fish in the province of Corrientes; adding herbs like thyme and rosemary to the fire for added flavor in Salta; or burning extra-smoky espinillo wood in the Cordoba region. Heck, some asadors will even throw some curanto vegetables into the mix, cooked on hot coals buried underground according to an ancient Indigenous technique. However it’s done, expect fistfuls of Malbec and lots of great storytelling.

What’s on the grill? Argentina is one of the top beef consumers (per capita) in the world—and it’s not a proper asado unless there are multiple cuts available, such as strip steak, skirt steak, short ribs, tenderloin, and rib eyes, as well as some chorizo sausages, blood sausages, sweetbreads, and assorted offal. There's a truly shocking new trend of incorporating plant-based options into the lineup, as seen with master meat chef Francis Mallmann’s new veggie-forward cookbook “Green Fire,” and Germán Martitegui’s vegetarian restaurant in Buenos Aires, Marti.

What’s served on the side? Griddled slices of provolone cheese, olives, and fresh salads. Once it’s showtime, it’s all about dousing your plate with spoonfuls of bright green chimichurri (a mix of minced parsley and oregano, red wine vinegar, olive oil, garlic, salt, and pepper) or salsa criolla (a vinegary salsa made of chopped tomatoes, peppers, and onions).

Who’s cooking? The asador is the master of ceremonies, ensuring the wood fire is properly stoked and the parrilla grill is adequately occupied with a variety of meats. There’s a reverence for the asador’s approach, and a diner wouldn’t dare dictate their meats “a little more medium” this or “more well” that—the asador calls the shots.

Whom are you eating with? Asado is a social affair that goes for hours on end. If someone invites you over for one, you better clear your entire afternoon—and perhaps your evening as well.

What's everybody drinking? Cold beers, Coca-Cola with Fernet, Malbec (by the gallon), or gourds of maté that are passed around.

Where to try it: The quintessential asado spot in Buenos Aires is Don Julio, a high-end all-timer that attracts both tourists and locals alike; for somewhere more casual and a little lighter on the wallet, check out Desnivel in San Telmo. But of course, the best asado is found if you can score an invite to someone’s home or estancia, especially out in the countryside. —T.P.

Brazil: Churrasco

Romanticized rural gauchos of southern Brazil created what is now known as churrasco (the name for both the grilling and the meat itself) during the mid-20th century—a practical use for their access to plentiful cattle. They roasted salted, skewered beef over embers at large gatherings, coming round to slice individual bites for guests as Brazilians still do today, both in backyards throughout the country and at countless churrascarias (Brazilian steakhouses). While any occasion—even just the arrival of the weekend—is reason for a churrasco at country homes and beside pools, what distinctly separates modern Brazilian barbecue from that of neighbors like Argentina and Uruguay is the churrascaria experience: An all-you-can-eat meatopia with juicy cuts skewered, doused in sal grosso (rock salt), spit-grilled, and served tableside in what is known as rodízio style. Wherever you try it, churrasco invites a celebratory mood—it’s a peep into the country’s love of a good time.

What's on the grill? Picanha, Brazil's favorite cut of beef (known as sirloin cap in the United States, or rump cap in the United Kingdom), which has a thin cap of fat that drips into the meat for a succulent result. Also expect lamb, chicken, pork, linguiça (Portuguese-style sausage), and even seafood.

What’s on the side? Rice, farofa (toasted manioc flour), feijão (beans), potato salad, pão de queijo (cheesy bread), sweet plantains, polenta, and vegetables. Meats are served with chimichurri, melegueta hot sauce, and a horseradish dip.

Whom are you eating with? Rooted in the large gathering style of the gaucho tradition, churrascos are a social affair ranging from milestone celebrations to casual family and friend get-togethers—they’re always a party.

What's everybody drinking? Most people drink cachaça (sugarcane-based liquor) while eating churrasco—it complements the richness of red meat, whether it’s served neat or mixed into a bright lime caipirinha.

Where to try it: If you don’t snag an invite to a backyard churrasco during your time in Brazil (you might), Assador Rio’s in Rio de Janeiro is set right on Guanabara Bay; Fogo de Chão, meanwhile, has over 60 locations, including five in São Paulo (and don’t let the fact that it’s a chain dissuade you; Fogo de Chão knows its meat). —M.S.

Peru: Pachamanca

For millennia, communities throughout Peru’s Andes Mountains have gathered around a pachamanca (the name of the earthen oven and the resulting dish) to bury ingredients in the ground and cook them with fire-heated stones. Today, a wooden cross on the top mound of dirt is intended to protect the meats, tubers, and vegetables below, while wild herbs like chincho and huacatay infuse them with a mintlike aroma. Before uncovering the earthen oven, usually after at least an hour of cooking, community elders make offerings of food, chicha (an Andean corn beer), and coca leaves to Pachamama—Mother Earth—in gratitude for the harvest that made the meal possible. On special occasions like weddings, joyful huayno music, drinking, and dancing follow the meal’s unearthing. Now migrant Andean families preserve this ancestral tradition in other parts of Peru.

What’s cooking? Steaks of pork, lamb, chicken, and heritage proteins like alpaca and cuy (guinea pig); potato and sweet potato; fava beans, corn; humitas (fresh corn tamales); plus plantains on the coast and yuca in the jungle.

What’s on the side? Spicy and creamy dipping sauces like peanut-rich ocopa, cheesy huancaina, bright-green uchucuta, and zesty japchi; plus salsa criolla (pickled red onions) on the coast.

Who’s cooking? A seasoned pachamanquero, using generation-hardened techniques.

Whom are you eating with? These are usually community events comprising friends, family, and neighbors, though some pachamancas are organized to be open to the public on a reservation basis.

What's everybody drinking? Chicha de jora, chicha morada (a purple corn drink spiced with cinnamon and cloves), wine, beer, and cañazo—a popular local rum.

Where to try it? El Albergue Ollantaytambo offers a unique farm-to-table experience in the Andes right near the ruins of Ollantaytambo, with made-on-the-spot artisanal spirits; Gutarra’s master pachamanquero slow cooks for special occasions in urban Lima (find upcoming dates on their Instagram); and Wasipunko Ecolodge spreads a pachamanca buffet in the Nasca desert. —Nico Vera

Europe

Greece: Antikristo

Greece’s grilling traditions don’t end with whole-roasting a lamb on a spit (as you might recognize from the front yard feast in My Big Fat Greek Wedding). In the Cretan countryside originates a barbecue method so ancient that Homer wrote about it in his Iliad. Antikristo is instantly recognizable by its main tool: a metal cage that surrounds an open wood fire. This ingenious setup allows the heat from the flames to do the cooking rather than the coals. A typical antikristo grill can feature up to five stacked wire hoops—enough room to skewer cuts of meat from 10 young lambs at one time—but modern versions are often much smaller. Besides the signature taste that comes from roasting the meat for hours in its own fat, antikristo also once served a practical purpose: When Crete was occupied by the Venetians and the Ottomans, it allowed the island’s rebels to cook meat swiftly and clandestinely, with little smoke. Luckily, there’s no reason to keep this delicious barbecue method a secret today, and its popularity extends beyond Crete to the capital of Athens.

What's on the grill? The preparation couldn’t be simpler: Lamb, 10 to 12 months old, is quartered, lightly salted, skewered in rows, and slow-roasted for several hours.

What’s served on the side? A heaping portion of horta (wild greens), dakos salad (tomato and cheese served with barley rusks), and rustic bread. For dessert, a simple plate of soft mizithra or anthogalo cheese drizzled with honey.

Who’s cooking? Since a proper roast can last up to five hours, antikristo requires an experienced grill master. If not a mountain shepherd like in the old days, it’s typically the family patriarch.

Whom are you eating with? This isn’t a weeknight family meal—it’s a veritable feast for the entire village.

What's everybody drinking? Tsikoudia, a grape-based liquor (and Crete’s answer to the mainland’s tsipouro brandy), or local wine like a white Vidiano or spicy red Kotsifali—all liberally flowing.

Where to try it: To Antikristo in Chania and Athali Cretan Cuisine in Heraklion; or if you don’t make it to Crete, Patouchas and To Katafigio in Athens also offer authentic antikristo. —Paul Jebara

Portugal: Sardinhada

During the hot summer months, from June to September, the scent of sizzling sardines rolls through every town in Portugal like a bank of fishy fog. Locals with a decent charcoal grill set up shop outside their houses to grill sardines for the revelers partying in the streets, like one big extended outdoor cookout—or sardinhadas, in Portuguese. Sardines, which have been a popular ingredient since Roman times due to their abundance in the Atlantic Ocean and their affordable price, are grilled intact and consumed mostly at festas populares—the lively annual street parties organized by local municipalities to celebrate saints.

What's on the grill? Whole sardines, skin on and with their insides intact. They are grilled on both sides for about 10 minutes, until a slight golden-brown color appears on the skin. Green and red bell peppers, for sides, are also put directly onto the grill rack until the skins are blackened and blistered. They are then peeled and deseeded, sliced into thin strips, and drizzled with olive oil.

What’s served on the side? During Portugal’s outdoor festivities, or arraiais, fresh grilled sardines are usually eaten on top of rye, wheat, or corn bread, which absorb the juices from the fish. In restaurants, they are normally served with boiled potatoes; a lettuce, tomato, and onion salad; or a barbecued bell pepper salad.

Who’s cooking? Women and men alike run the charcoal-grill tascas—traditional restaurants that specialize in Portuguese comfort food at reasonable prices.

Whom are you eating with? Sardinhadas are enjoyed with family or friends, especially on Friday and Saturday nights. Locals may also enjoy them after work on weekdays throughout the summer months.

What's everybody drinking? The chargrilled sardines go well with cold beer, a red wine sangria, or a glass of white or Vinho Verde wine.

Where to try it: On a street corner of the Bica neighborhood (Lisbon) or Cordoaria area (Porto), grilled sardines can be ordered from one of the stalls throughout the summer; the freshest, best grilled sardines in Portugal can be found in restaurants such as Lisbon’s Pateo 13 or Solar dos Leitões, and Matosinhos’s Salta o Muro. —Miguel Andrade

Turkey: Mangal

While it’s a go-to culinary tool across Asia Minor, in Turkey, mangal (derived from the Arabic word meaning “portable”) refers to both the age-old ritual of charcoal grilling as well as the original apparatus used for it: a rectangular metal box barbecue that sits on short legs. The mangal was first invented by nomadic Bedouins as a means to heat their tents, but today it arguably remains one of Turkey’s most popular cooking methods, found all across the country in family homes, countertop hole-in-the-walls, and sit-down restaurants (some spots have even adapted the mangal for on-table grilling). In major cities, head to city parks on the weekends to witness the art of mangal in action, family-style.

What's on the grill? Marinated cuts of meat (lamb, beef, and chicken), plus sujuk (spicy sausage), skewered kebabs (cubed meat), and köftes (ground meat mixed with herbs and seasonings) all get a nice char. Onions, peppers, and potatoes also tend to land on the grill. Marinades and spices vary regionally (preparations in Turkey’s Southeast region, specifically the city of Adana, rank higher on the spice meter), while fish is more common on the Mediterranean and Black Sea coasts.

What’s served on the side? An array of traditional mezze (hummus, stuffed grape leaves, and more) plus an obligatory fresh-chopped çoban (shepherd) salad of tomatoes, red peppers, cucumber, and onions dressed with olive oil and lemon juice.

Who’s cooking? Men are usually in charge of the mangal, while the female members of the party will take care of the sides.

Whom are you eating with? It simply wouldn’t be a mangal without the entire extended family—distant cousins included—joining the feast.

What's everybody drinking? Other than tea and sodas, glasses are filled with şalgam (turnip juice) or ayran (a savory yogurt drink). Turkish beer or raki are the boozy beverages of choice.

Where to try it: All around Turkey, from the cities to rural areas, with a naturally large concentration in Istanbul that includes popular spots Tomtom Kebap and Istanbul Kebab Cafe & Restaurant. —P.J.

Credits

Lead editor: Megan Spurrell

Editors: Lale Arikoglu, Jessica Puckett, Shannon McMahon

Copy editors: Marisa Carroll, Joyce Rubin

Research: Anna Gladwin

Visuals: Andrea Edelman, Pallavi Kumar

Illustrations: Andrea Cheung

Social media: Mercedes Bleth, Kayla Brock

Audience development: Lara Kramer

Special thanks: Erin Florio