Trastevere at dusk is one of those places that makes you want to cancel your flight home. The cobblestones are uneven and golden-lit, the ivy spills off every terrace, and the smell of garlic hitting hot olive oil drifts out of kitchens that have been feeding the same neighborhood for generations. This evening stroll is an unhurried way to eat your way through all of it.

You meet your guide at Piazza di Santa Maria in Trastevere, in front of one of Rome's oldest basilicas, its golden mosaics glowing in the last of the evening light. From there the route winds through lanes too narrow for cars, past laundry strung between windows and cats sleeping on ancient doorsteps.

The first stop is a suppli, Rome's answer to the arancino, a deep-fried rice ball filled with molten mozzarella and ragù that pulls apart in strings when you bite into it. Then a glass of house Frascati at a bar where the owner's grandfather poured the same wine to the same regulars. A small plate of cacio e pepe served in a folded piece of paper. A thick slice of porchetta carved off a whole roasted pig at a counter with nowhere to sit. And to finish, a maritozzo, a soft cream-filled bun that Romans eat for breakfast but which works equally well at 9 PM on a warm evening with a small glass of something sweet.

No reservations, no dress code, no set menu. Just a neighborhood, a guide who grew up in it, and five very good reasons to eat standing up.