This restaurant on the northern frontier of Greenwich Village represents the engaging food of northern China, specifically the provinces in the northeast called Dongbei. That means glass mung bean noodles sometimes served cold and flavored with wasabi, pork stews with shredded cabbage that’s something like sauerkraut, cumin-scented lamb, and some of the plumpest dumplings in town with a broad variety of stuffings.

Cecchi’s opened recently in the venerable Cafe Loup space, owned and hosted by veteran maitre ‘d Michael Cecchi-Azzolina — so you know the service will be good. In addition to the expected French flourishes at this price, the place also emulates an old-fashioned supper club, and features jazzy colorful murals. Will you go for the chicken pot pie or the steak special? Onion rings are especially good.

Since 1994, Bar Six has been one of Greenwich Village’s best French bistros, serving wines, aperitifs, and cocktails in a pair of dining rooms that might as well be in Paris — bent cane chairs, stamped tin ceilings, distressed mirrors, and all. Feast upon steak frites, onion soup, and stuffed artichoke, or one of the Moroccan-leaning dishes.

This hopping University Place spot, steps from the south end of Union Square, emulates a bustling market in Bangkok, with the waiters outfitted as pedicab drivers. Big fun! In addition to street food, Bangkok style, you’ll find dishes cherry picked from all corners of the country: curry pancakes stuffed with chicken, grilled steak with jaew sauce, pork jowl salad, and from the Thailand’s Malay Peninsula, khao yum, a rice salad so brightly colored it will knock your eyes out.

This old-fashioned focacceria might have been transplanted from Palermo. The menu features the chickpea fritters called panelle along with fried and squished small potatoes made into a panino, as well as bomboloni filled with pastry cream, pastas bearing eggplant and ricotta, and thick, square slices of focaccia, the best of which features thin-sliced potatoes and rosemary.

Now nearly a year old, One Fifth is a Marc Forgione project, hearkening back to the eponymous restaurant in this space before it was Mario Batali’s Otto. The place is an Art Deco maze, and as with the previous tenant, the best place to sit is at the bar or at one of the standing tables in the front room, and there enjoy twee pizzas with scrumptious toppings, baby trout fried with olives and celery, and lamb mortadella sandwiches, among many other choices. It’s a great fly-in spot for a glass of wine.

Originally known as John’s Pizzeria, this coal-oven pizza parlor was one of a small group of venerable places to introduce pizza as we know it to the United States a century ago. The pies are thin-crusted, slightly charred, made with excellent mozzarella, and a modest strew of good ingredients (my favorites: Italian sausage and black olives). John’s was once part of a thriving Italian and Portuguese neighborhood in the vicinity, of which few vestiges remain. 

This cart has perched on the southern edge of Washington Square Park for almost 25 years. The crisp dosas with a savory potato filling are crafted on the spot, garnished with a pair of chutneys, and accompanied by a cup of sambar, a spicy vegetable soup. Other meals and snacks include samosas and uttapam. (Call the number above to see if Thiru Kumar will be in the park that day.)

Nothing beats a great french fry, especially one that has been double cooked and furnished with a dizzying choice of sauces. Some of the best of these sauces are free, some entail a nominal charge at Pommes Frites, which was transplanted a few years ago from a location on Second Avenue in the East Village after an explosion and fire. Now the décor is more Tudor than ever, and never fear that the fries won’t make a full meal.

This legendary pizzeria established a beachhead in the Village a decade ago, in a premises more comfortable than the original seaman’s bar in Staten Island. The menu remains intact, which means start your meal with conch salad and proceed to the celebrated clam pie, fit to compete with any in town, or New Haven, for that matter.

Yes, you can get the faddish bread boatload of melted cheese called khachapuri at OTG, but Georgian cuisine is so much more: its compressed vegetable appetizers laced with walnuts and sprinkled with pomegranate seeds, for example, or its charcoal lamb kebabs wrapped with flatbreads for the convenience of eating with one’s fingers, or its mellow chicken stews or oniony lamb dumplings. The wine list is interesting enough on its own to induce a visit.