📍 Added in April: Naoki and Yoshimi Nakashima renamed this quiet, classic Japanese refuge, maintaining the solid standards that sustained it for decades, and revived the sushi program with alluring specials and a few moderate nods to prevailing trends. Deep bowls of curry udon and chicken-and-egg donburi, or crackly grilled mackerel and panko-jacketed tonkatsu, conjure a comforting home you never knew, while a bento box and jiggly coffee jelly charge your reentry into the frenzied outer world.

📍 Added in April: Vintage neon beckons from northwest Indiana, calling you to the last outpost of the Depression-era progenitor of the lacy-edged smashburger. Back then, these were just known as “burgers”—and still are, because nothing changes at Miner-Dunn: not the fresh cut fries or the orange sherbet that comes when you order a “deluxe.” You can make the drive for the full diner-style menu, with slow-roasted beef and housemade pies, but it’s against Hoosier state law to skip a burger.

📍 Added in April: A pre-concert convenience on the ground floor of the Romanesque Thalia Hall, this is also the journey’s end for Mexican seafood in this landlocked burgh. Sustainably sourced sea creatures abound, the ceviches, tacos, and tostadas charged with electric bolts of acid and heat. Octopus Sonoran dogs, firefly squid aguachile, and other once-unknown wonders of the deep swim alongside a divine pastry program yielding blue corn macarons, mole lava cake, and apple butter ice cream.

📍 Added in April: Everything’s priced as if it’s a charity rather than a sustaining family business at the mothership of this budget-friendly, counter-service mini-chain that has sustained hungry students for decades. This small empire is built upon fast, well-made Indo-Pak classics like masala-cured hunter beef, yogurt-tender lamb korma, and palak paneer, along with a few modern updates and cross pollinations for discriminating cool kids, such as chili chicken biryani and spicy masala gyros.

📍 Added in April: This avowed “fancy cocktail bar” looks more like a basement lair reimagined by a committee of suburban grandads. The cocktails themselves, both modern and classic, are built from an endless library of compelling spirits. The kitchen absorbs them with a menu ranging from a half pound “cuppa” popcorn shrimp to matzo ball soup to honey-harissa roast chicken to a scarfable cheeseburger with hand-cut fries (best digested with Angostura bitters by the shot).

The self-described “control freak” behind this brand-new ramen-ya spent a decade methodically studying his craft—and regularly selling out periodic pop-ups within seconds. The resulting tentacular housemade noodles and perfectly balanced broths are still the object of intense devotion, but in his long-awaited brick-and-mortar, it’s a little bit easier to score a bowl. With just two soup-based and two dry varieties, obsession and passion are evident in the bowl.

Little Palestine, aka Bridgeview, is the heart of the largest Palestinian community in America, and this former-fast-food-joint-turned-opulent-oasis is its pleasure center. Wood-grilled meats and seafood are the celebrated gems here, but treasures are all over the sprawling menu of mezes, salads, and sandwiches, such as makdous (oil-cured, walnut-stuffed baby eggplants) or arayes (crispy, griddled beef-lamb or Syrian cheese–stuffed pita).

Parachute power couple Beverly Kim and Johnny Clark’s Ukrainian relief project employs a kitchen crew of refugees cooking modernized classics like duck-and-smoked-pear borscht, huckleberry-bacon-pecan varenyky, and sea buckthorn-and-feta potato pancakes. The menu’s beating heart is zakusky, a tiered, rolling cart of small bites like trout roe tarts, pickled mushrooms and tomatoes; Hokkaido herring with tropea onions; and lamb-stuffed, fried Crimean-style olives.

Among the 30-some recently opened Kyrgyz restaurants in these parts, get your bearings here, with all the hallmarks of a meaty, carb-loaded cuisine rooted in ancient nomadic lifeways: beefy, hand-pulled noodles; bulging, pumpkin-stuffed dumplings; savory, tandoor-tanned pastries; and sizzling shashlik skewers. Packing for a long ride on the steppes? The neighboring market stocks loads of imported products and locally produced dairy- and grain-based ferments.

Badou Diakhate’s West African cooking style is improvisational, adjusting bright spikes of sweet, sour, and spicy to guests’ whims. Take, for instance, a whole lime-lashed fish buried in caramelized onions and chile sauce; or chicken and yam chunks stewing in peanut butter mafe; or the chef’s signature tomatoey jambalaya, with okra, shrimp, and a husky whisper of smoked turkey.