One of travel’s great pleasures is placing great works of art and endeavour in their true context. You only understand Michelangelo’s awe at the power of the divine when you’re surrounded by the gravitas of the Vatican; the refined wit of a Strauss waltz makes perfect sense in an elegant Viennese ballroom; actually seeing Monet’s garden is worth more than a thousand Rolf Harris TV biopics.

But what about some of the creative masterpieces of the kitchen? Is cooking not the art of the common man? A medium-rare hamburger smothered in relish and dripping with cheese, the moreish perfection of a freshly baked pizza margherita, a cavernous dish of steaming, spicy paella — surely these wonders of the modern world, these culinary col- ossuses, are worthy of a pilgrimage to their birthplaces, to the cultural cauldrons that forged their genius ...

Here, four writers visit four corners of the world where a star was born, to uncover the relationship between classic recipes and their homelands, to track down the best places to eat the definitive items and to plot a short-break itinerary no galloping gourmand could resist.

So, pack the Pepto-Bismol, take a short sabbatical from the GI diet and follow in their staggering, overfed footsteps.

Hamburgers in New York

CREDIT WHERE credit’s due: Genghis Khan and his Mongol hordes invented the hamburger. Genghis’s high-speed horsemen weren’t going to stop pillaging just because they were hungry, so they needed food that could be scoffed on the hoof, with one hand — and the burger was born, in its uncooked, tartare-esque form. But the icon of grilled beef, onions and relish wasn’t created until a New York chef shortened “Hamburg steak” to Hamburger in the 19th century, launching the meal that built America.

Enough history lessons already. You’re not going to Mongolia for a hamburger, are you? You have to go to New York, because, like Marmite on toast and tea in England, it just doesn’t taste as good anywhere else. Until you’ve sat in a booth with yellow taxis honking outside, and NYPD officers in the adjacent seats, you’ve never tasted a real burger. “What’s your 10-20?” Crackle . .. “Pass the piccalilli.” Crackle ...

The burger trail: to kick off with a classic, you could do worse than Jackson Hole’s 7oz special. They have five joints in town (visit www.jacksonholeburgers.com) and 31 burgers on the menu, from the Pizza Burger (with mozzarella and tomato sauce) and the English Burger (served in a muffin, obviously) to the entirely unmanageable East Sider, a bacon cheeseburger with ham, mushrooms, tomatoes and fried onions.

For something trendier, go to Pop Burger (58-60 Ninth Avenue; 00 1 212-414 8686), in the hip and highly appropriate Meatpacking District: Philippe Starck-style fast food in the front; dark and groovy bar with surf videos on flat screens in the back. Against the tide of ever larger American helpings, the front-of-house Pop Burger is tiny: not much beefier than a canapé. You get two for $5, and they’re delicious. Go on a weekday: at weekends, it’ s swamped by B&Ters — meaning Bridge and Tunnel teens, meaning out-of-towners. Meaning avoid.

The world’s most expensive burger is served at the supersophisticated DB Bistro Moderne (55 West 44th Street; 391 2400; reservations essential). The DB Burger Royale, a sirloin burger stuffed with short ribs, foie gras and a mirepoix of root vegetables, costs $99 (£53) with a double portion of fresh black truffles (in season: late December to early March). I had to make do with the truffle-free $29 burger, and it was truly spectacular fine dining. It tasted amazing, but it felt wrong. Burgers shouldn’t be flash. They’re wholesome, cheesy Americana.

Which brings me to the winner, the must-not-miss, the to-die-for burger joint, which goes by the name of The Burger Joint (118 West 57th Street; 245 5000; closed Sundays). It has booths and serviette graffiti and 1950s music, and it is, without a doubt, New York’s classic burger diner — except that the plastic-fantastic, superkitsch look is entirely fake: hidden incongruously behind a huge curtain in the lobby of the swanky Le Parker Meridien Hotel. Step through and you’re in a magical world where the $5.50 cheeseburgers are good, real good, and the milk shakes are ouddathizworld. It even had the NYPD men in the next booth. This is the best burger in New York, and therefore the world.

Where to stay: the beautifully sophisticated Soho House Hotel (627 9800, www.sohohouseny.com) is right across the street from Pop Burger, in the heart of the Meatpacking District; doubles start at £200. For stunning views and bargain rates, consider the Hotel on Rivington (475 2600, www.hotelonrivington.com), where doubles start at £120.

Getting there: fly direct with Continental Airlines (0845 607 6760, www.continental.com) from Gatwick, Manchester, Birmingham, Glasgow or Edinburgh (and Bristol from May 20, then Belfast from May 27), all from £321; or from Dublin or Shannon (1890 925 252), from €295. Or try British Airways (0870 850 9850, www.ba.com).

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