One For The Road

In Which I Join Garfield In Cursing The Hateful Name Of Monday

2011-09-15T08:20:00.000-07:00

For Labor Day this year, I went back to Philadelphia for the third time. Philly is one of my favorite cities for many reasons, almost all of them food related. Back in the very early days of this blog, I outlined five steps for anyone setting out to plan a trip. I will now apply these five general steps to a specific situation, namely the situation of planning a trip to our nation’s second capital.

Step One: Decide Where You Are Going and When.

If you are planning a trip to Philadelphia, I sure hope that’s where you are going! If not, you’re going to be very confused when you arrive at your desired destination.

As to when, this is more flexible but I do dearly love visiting Philly on Labor Day weekend. I’ve done it three times already, so you might consider me the world’s leading expert on Visiting Philly For Labor Day Weekend. Labor Day Weekend is an excellent time to see the city because the weather is awesome but the crowds are light because so many people have foolishly chosen to be at the beach.

Why would anyone rather be at the beach than in Philadelphia? The food is nowhere near as good at the beach and there is much less sand in Philadelphia.

On top of this, the first Friday of every month in Philadelphia features a big party at the galleries in Old Town with free wine and pretzels and weird happening and whatnot. And on top of THAT, on the first Sunday of every month the Philadelphia Museum of Art offers “Pay What You Wish Admission”. Yup, Labor Day Weekend in Philly is where it’s at. I have high hopes that this article is going to start a trend.

Step Two: Decide How to Get There.

If you are a New Yorker and you take anything but Bolt Bus to Philadelphia, then you are an idiot and may God have mercy on your soul. Amtrak is great for some things but it costs many times more than a Bolt Bus ticket and it isn’t much faster. My trip cost 30 dollars round trip and it only took me three hours to get from NYC to Philadelphia on Labor Day Friday, which is not too shabby even slightly.

If you're not a New Yorker, move to New York. Then we'll talk.

The one advantage to taking Amtrak is that the 30th Street Train Station is truly gorgeous, much like Grand Central in New York. However, since the Bolt Bus drops you off right outside the train station, if you really just want to see the train station, duck your head inside and you’ll be satisfied. Problem solved!

Step Three: Decide Where to Stay

The first choice you must make is to decide what kind of hotel you are looking for. Philadelphia does have hostels, though I’ve never stayed in one, so if you’re on a budget, you might want to try Apple Hostels. Time Out New York says they’re good, though I’ve never been there.
If you are not on a budget, I suggest trying a bed and breakfast. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: why anyone would want to stay at a hotel that doesn’t offer a delicious breakfast, if they get a say in the matter, is beyond my comprehension. So if you want to stay at some fancy pants hotel where they give you really fluffy pillows but won’t feed you, I’m afraid here is where we must part ways.

I have tried two hotels in Philadelphia, The Thomas Bond House in Old Town and La Reserve near Rittenhouse. I recommend both highly. The breakfasts at La Reserve are better because they are made to order, but the breakfasts at Thomas Bond are also yummy, so there’s no major culinary loss incurred by staying here.

If you plan on doing a lot of nightlife related activities near Rittenhouse, you’ll want to stay at La Reserve. I wanted to be close to the major tourist attractions, so I picked Thomas Bond. It is an incredibly convenient location, right across from City Tavern and a few blocks from Independence Hall.

Step Four: Decide On A Few Important Things You Want To Do

One problem with traveling during a long weekend is that you must usually end up reserving Saturdays, Sundays, and Mondays for engaging in fun activities. This is a problem because Mondays are the worst, worst, worst day ever. Some people hate Mondays because they mean going back to work after the weekend. I hate Mondays because they mean that museums and fun tourist activities are mostly closed.

Mondays, why do you suck so hard? Why do museums close on Mondays when so many Mondays are holidays? Why can’t they close Tuesdays instead? If there were a petition or something I could sign to make Tuesdays Official Museum Closing Day, I would do it, just so to not feel so helpless in the face of the looming darkness that appears in mine eye when I see a Monday upon the horizon.

Anyways I was planning my itinerary using the helpful and incredibly specific Frommers Day by Day guide to Philadelphia and I needed to take Miserable Monday into careful account when planning my trip. One suggested itinerary in the book revolves around the Italian Market—it’s closed Monday and partially open on Sunday so I scheduled it for Saturday. Another day revolves around the Philadelphia Museum of Art and it’s closed on Monday (CURSE YOU MONDAY) so I scheduled it for Sunday.

It was fortunate for me that most of the historic sites in Philly are open on Mondays, except for the Mantua Maker’s Museum in Elfreth’s Alley. Does this museum sound that exciting? I don’t even know what a mantua maker is, except that those words start with the letter M, just like Mondays, and therefore must be something bad. Therefore I scheduled my tour of the historic district for the day that dare not speak its name. Now that I had the general outline of my days planned, I could start buying tickets and things.

If you are visiting Philly in April, I don’t have too many suggestions for you. Similarly, if you are visiting in December, I can’t offer you much except to suggest that you might try Mumming. However, if you are in Philly in September, I do recommend checking out the Live Arts and Fringe Festival. This festival, which runs in September, features performances of all sorts, all over the city, ranging from circus performers to straight theater, to improvised telenovelas, which is what I saw last year.

This year, I made a reservation for the avant garde theater company Pig Iron Theater’s performance of Twelfth Night. I don’t much care for avant garde theater but Twelfth Night is one of my favorite plays, so I thought this production might be a good gateway drug into the world of the edgy.

Because you didn’t ask, here are:

My Approximately Top Five Favorite Plays

1. She Stoops to Conquer by Oliver Goldsmith (Saw it at the Gate in Dublin and it blew my mind.)

2. Private Lives by Noel Coward (Saw it with Prof. Snape on Broadway and it blew my mind.)

3. Henry V by Billy Shakes (I prefer the Branagh version but Olivier’s is certainly not shabby.)

4. What the Butler Saw by Joe Orton (I saw this in college. Like, an actual college production with teenage actors and I still thought it was amazing.)

5. Arcadia by Tom Stoppard (It’s about math and death, the two worst things in the world, and I still love it.)

6. Twelfth Night by Yo’ Mamma

If you’re gleaning from this list that I have a weird obsession with English comedies of manners, you win the pool. I’m quite sure that I was the world’s only four year old whose favorite movie was Clue. But I digress, big time.

Anyway, I bought my ticket to Pig Iron Twelfth Night and made reservations at my most favorite restaurant, Amada. I made other reservations and things but since Twelfth Night and Amada were my top priorities, I made sure to take care of those first. I was good to go for a jam-packed weekend.

Step Five: Pack

No, I’m not going to pack for you. What’s wrong with you? Are you lazy? There is one thing that I can insist that you bring to Philadelphia, and this is your walking shoes. Philadelphia was made for walking and you’ll be miserable in heels.

Also, bring your ID because you will get carded. The bars seem stricter about this sort of thing than most places in NYC.

One final packing tip is that you should leave a little room in your suitcase to bring back souvenirs. I always forget to do this and end up having to jump up and down on my suitcase to get it to close.

Step Six: Wait Til Next Labor Day, Then Go To Philly

That’s it! Now you know everything I do about going to Philadelphia for Labor Day. I hope to see you there sometime! But

In Which I Proclaim My Love For Sparkly Things As If I Were A Magpie

2011-09-01T10:39:00.000-07:00

The one word I would use to describe New Mexico is a little bit wacky. In fact, I can’t quite think of the perfect word to describe the way in which everything wonderful about New Mexico is tied to the earth. The closest I can come is the word terrestrial.

They call New Mexico the Land of Enchantment and this enchantment seems to come from the very earth. Behold, the many fabulous ways that New Mexicans makes use of the gorgeous red earth beneath their feet.

1. They made a cable car to take you up to the top of the watermelon-like Sandia Mountains, outside Albuquerque. One way to appreciate the earth is to stare at it from a great height as it turns pink in the sunset.

2. They built a fabulous opera house in the desert, using the desert’s natural acoustics to amplify the sound. If that’s not a creative use of the land, I don’t know what is. The opera itself is partially open air so you can watch the sun set while someone is singing a gorgeous aria. I saw La Boheme there one summer and it was spectacularly romantic.

This time, we went to see Faust, which is just as dramatic as La Boheme and therefore just as perfectly suited to the setting. I really wanted to take a picture of the beautiful inside of the opera house but the Santa Fe Opera doesn’t allow photographs and I saw someone get busted for taking a picture. I guess this picture from outside the opera will have to do.

3. They make the earth into toys. At Rancho de las Golindrinas, I built adobe bricks out of dirt, which was messy and fun. The man in charge of the adobe brick making activity said that they were going to use the bricks in a dollhouse making activity.

Of course, kids are perfectly capable of having fun with nothing more than a big pile of dirt, but this activity seemed like a good way to class up the idea of rolling in the mud just a little bit.

4. Some of New Mexico’s best art even comes from the earth. I fell in love with the Native American micaceous pottery, made from local earth that naturally contains sparkly bits of mica in it. It seems hard to believe that something that comes straight from the ground could be so gorgeous, but that’s probably because I am a city dweller lacking in respect for nature’s bounty.

I bought a piece of this glittery preciousness at the Taos Pueblo. It was made by a young woman named Olivia and it’s shaped like a tulip. It has joined the other pieces in my travel tchotchke display, which I hope will grow bigger by the day. Well, maybe not by the day. That would be a little glutinous.

5. Even if the art isn’t made from earth literally, New Mexicans find ways to get their inspiration from the earth. Of course, probably the best known painter of the New Mexican landscape is Georgia O’Keeffe. The Georgia O’Keeffe Museum is one of my favorite small museums because it is so well curated.

Half the museum consists of rotating pieces from the permanent collection and the other half is a special exhibit related to O’Keeffe. This time it was an exhibit about the relationship between photography and painting. It was cool but I prefer the permanent collection. I know that O’Keeffe’s flowers are almost clichéd at this point because of their fame, but I don’t care. They’re stunning and I could look at them all day.

6. Finally, they set an amazing spa among the pines in the perfect natural surroundings. There is nothing more relaxing than lying back in a hot spring, looking up at the pine trees and stars, and feeling like you’re melting into the earth. I feel like I could never go back to one of the fancy but sterile spas back home.

New Mexico couldn’t be more different from New York City, which is so disconnected from the natural world that New Yorkers tend to mistake the highly artificial Central Park for the real thing.

I would never want to live in New Mexico, and I love New York more than anywhere, but I know how to appreciate what’s good in other places and when it comes to appreciating nature, NM has us beat. I’m not sure when I’m going to be back in New Mexico, but I sure hope it’s soon.

My Approximately Top Ten Favorite Things About New Mexico

1. Most Important Lesson Of The Trip: I learned that I can balance spending time with my family with being on my own and still having a great trip.

2. Favorite Part of New Mexico: Santa Fe has it all, history, museums, amazing food, a beautiful setting, opera and unique architecture, and the most wonderful spa I have ever been to. No wonder so many artists want to relocate here.

3. Favorite Experience (Arts): The Georgia O’Keeffe is one of my very favorite small museums and I love that the collection is different every time I go.

4. Favorite Experience (Nature): Going to the top of Sandia Peak on that railcar ride.

5. Favorite Experience (History): Getting a tour of Taos Pueblo and learning about the sad history of the region.

6. Favorite Experience (Evening): Seeing Faust at the Santa Fe Opera. I have a weakness for a good, campy Satan.

7. Favorite meal: So much good food, but can anything top the 66 diner? Certainly not in my heart

8. Favorite dessert: Obviously it’s the mocha cake at The Shed

9. Favorite drink: The flavored cucumber water at Ten Thousand Waves

10. Favorite souvenir: My micaceous pot from Taos Pueblo.

11. Favorite thing about New Mexico in general: There’s more history here than in any other part of the United States and the fascinating clash of cultures that created the state is reflected in the architecture, art, food, and just about anything else you can imagine. Also, when I go to New Mexico, my hair never frizzes.

And with that, I’m finally caught up to the present. I’m off to Philadelphia once again for Labor Day weekend, so stay tuned and get ready to hear about my third and perhaps final attempt to conquer our nation’s former capital.

In Which I Warn The World Of The Ultimate Danger: TOAST

2011-08-31T07:35:00.000-07:00

Everything I Ate in New Mexico Over Summer Vacation 2011 Part Two

1. Frito Pie at Rancho de las Golindrinas

After Harry Potter Day, my aunt took me to a place called Rancho de las Golindrinas, which is a Spanish Colonial ranch. Basically, it’s like Colonial Williamsburg except with Spanish settlers instead of Anglo ones.

That weekend, they were having a Viva Mexico festival and there were all sorts of Mexican and New Mexican delicacies being sold all around the festival. I got a frito pie from one of the vendors because my guidebook told me it was a popular local delicacy, and here I am using the word delicacy in much the same way I would describe a Varsity chili dog as a delicacy.

I’m not 1000% sure why it’s called a pie, since no pie crust is involved. Rather, this concoction is simply a dish of chili ladled over a layer of fritos. It’s tasty and salty and crunchy and, I imagine, much easier to make than your average pie that actually requires baking.

2. Combination Plate (beef taco, chicken enchilada, chile relleno) at Blue Corn Cafe

My aunt and I then went to the fantastic Folk Art Museum in Santa Fe, which we followed up with dinner at the Blue Corn Cafe. I ordered a combination plate, which is popular all over New Mexico and will usually involve a taco, an enchilada, and a third dish of some sort. In this case, the third dish was a chile relleno, albeit a smaller and less cheesy relleno than the one I had eaten at Gabriel’s.

The thing I liked best about the Blue Corn Cafe was that the taco and enchilada shells were both made with--surprise!--blue corn instead of yellow corn. This added a special flavor to the dishes. Other than that, I’d say this is a good place to go if you want to try some solid and reasonably priced New Mexican food.

3. Tamale Pie and Flourless Chocolate Cake with Vanilla Bean Ice Cream at Graham’s Grill

The next day, my aunt and uncle and I went to Taos to visit the Native American pueblo. We stopped for lunch at a popular restaurant in town called Graham’s Grill, that features lots of different sandwiches and salads. However, I naturally wanted to try a New Mexican special instead of a sandwich that I can get anywhere.

The waiter seemed to be madly in love with the entire menu and was reluctant to express an opinion about which was best. I ordered the tamale pie, which was very flavorful and featured fresh green chile and a delicious tamale crust. I’m gonna imagine that it was much harder to make than the Frito pie.

When it came to the desserts, the waiter literally recommended every single thing on the menu except for sorbet. I begged him to narrow my options down but he refused, saying he had eaten them all and would gladly eat them all again. I ordered the flourless chocolate cake, because it’s the closest thing you can get to my grandmother’s birthday cake without actually bringing my grandmother into the kitchen to fix it for you. It was not too rich and deliciouus, but sadly I cannot give it the crown of Best Chocolate Dessert That I Ate In New Mexico Summer 2011, for reasons that you will soon discover.

4. Combination Plate with turkey sausage and green chile taco and chicken enchilada with red chile, as well as the World’s Greatest Dessert at The Shed

So, apparently I lied earlier about combination plates, because not all of them have three dishes. Some only consist of two, though the taco and enchilada appear to be essential. Perhaps I need to spend more time observing Combination Plates in the wild in order to learn their mysterious ways better.

But I am getting ahead of myself. This combination plate I had at the infamous Santa Fe hangout, The Shed. Obviously, I am here using the word infamous in the Three Amigos sense to mean “even more than famous”. The Shed has been in Santa Fe since before my aunt moved to New Mexico in the 70s so it’s very much a part of the landscape. In fact, I might say that if you go to only one restaurant to try New Mexican food, it should probably be The Shed.

I loved the spicyness of the very hot red chile used on the enchilada and the waitress’s recommendation of the green chile and turkey sausage was spot on. However, the star of the lunch was clearly the Mocha Cake that I had for dessert. In fact, according to my Frommer’s guide, this may be the best dessert ever.

I don’t know about that because I’ve eaten a lot of dessert in my time and I’d be hard pressed to say which was The Greatest Ever. However, the Mocha Cake is certainly in the running, if only for its rich, intense flavor. It isn’t really a cake, it’s more like a chocolate mousse and a coffee mousse mixed together, frozen, and then cut into a little slice of heaven. If it’s not the best dessert ever, it’s certainly the best dessert I had in New Mexico.

5. Enchiladas at Santacafe

My aunt took me to lunch at a fancy restaurant called Santacafe, before dropping me off at one of my very favorite places in the world: Ten Thousand Waves Spa. This spa is a magical Japanese style spa in the forest outside Santa Fe. But more about this wondrous location later.

The enchilada was not quite as wondrous as the spa, but it did give a good idea of what a more sophisticated treatment of the generally rustic and hearty New Mexican cuisine. The chiles were applied with a lighter hand than at a place like Tito and Mary’s and the chicken was obviously very well prepared. It tasted toothsome and tender, as if it had been poached, though I don’t know that it was. I would like to go back to Santacafe when I have more time so that I could try their appetizers and desserts too.

6. Cucumber and Lemon Water and a Buddha chocolate at Ten Thousand Waves

What do you think the perfect dinner would be after a long day of being massaged, scrubbed, soaked, and facialed at a spa? Do you think it would be a decadent ten course feast?

Well, I am here to tell you this is very false. If you are anything like me, this treatment will make you want to pour yourself into a nearby hotel bed and pass out. No, in this case, the perfect dinner was having my fill of the unlimited fountains of free lemon and cucumber flavored waters, topped off with a tiny complimentary chocolate left in my hotel room.
This was the best meal because it was light, sweet, and FREE.

7. Granola, rice milk, oranges and self-made coffee at Ten Thousand Waves

The next morning, I wanted something more substantial than water and a tiny chocolate. Fortunately Ten Thousand Waves stocked their hotel rooms with more than enough to fix your own breakfast. There are coffee beans and a coffee grinder and maker so you can make yourself fresh coffee. This was fun in a DIY sort of way.

There were also fresh oranges and AMAZING homemade granola. Granola is not the sort of thing I usually eat at home because it is neither healthy enough to be good for you nor decadent enough to be satisfying but this was good enough to make me a granola convert. I just loved its nutty flavor and I wish I knew the brand so I could sprinkle some on my yogurt in the morning.

8. Huevos rancheros and blueberry muffins at the Tecolote Cafe

For my last meal in New Mexico, my aunt and uncle took me to one of their favorite places for brunch. This place wasn’t listed in my guidebook but it came so recommended by my family that I decided to give it a shot. After all, the only reason I listen to guidebooks is to get some recommendations so I have a reasonable shot of not wasting my time and money on something overpriced and terrible. But why rely on a guidebook when you have the recommendation of a loved one instead? People: They’re Like Guidebooks You Can Talk To!

The Tecolote Café is known for its great breakfast food and it’s deep abiding hatred of toast. You can choose to get a small bakery basket with your food, or you can get a tortilla if you are on a diet and/and an idiot. Seriously, how could anyone pick a tortilla over fresh blueberry muffins? So moist and fluffy and yummy and bursting with blueberry goodness! And it’s not like the tortilla is free of carbs or anything.

But I am launching my disdain at this fictitious person who prefers tortillas to muffins while ignoring the real criminal: TOAST. The Tecolote Café has some sort of deep seated animosity towards toast and refuses to serve it. Why does the café have this policy? Did toast run over the café’s dog? Was the café stung by a piece of toast as a child? Did toast kidnap the Lindberg baby? If you answered all of the above, you are probably right. I personally believe that all the world’s evils can be attributed to toast.

Oh, and the huevos rancheros were good too. They were served on top of a tortilla, which is quite appropriate since huevos rancheros on top of a blueberry muffin sounds disgusting.

9. Assorted sparkling wines at Gruet Winery

So, one of the funnest (NOT a word, I know, but it should be) things I did in Albuquerque was take a ride on the ABQ Trolley. This tour is run by two guys from Albuquerque who wanted to show tourists that the ABQ was more than just a stopover on the way to Santa Fe. They made an adorable stucco covered trolley and give a fun and informative tour of the city to their lucky passengers.

But their passengers aren’t just lucky because they’ve been given the gift of knowledge. Oftentimes, the passengers are given actual gifts for answering trivia questions. But I lucked out big time cause I got the best gift of all: the gift of booze.

The tour guide said that the prize of a free wine tasting at Gruet Winery would go to the passenger who could correctly name New Mexico’s official state question. Now, lots of states have things like state birds and state flowers, but New Mexico actually officially declared itself to have a state question. What is it? Talk amongst yourselves, if you wish.

Well, I happened to know the answer to this question because my aunt had told me. It’s “Red Or Green?”, as in which color chile do you want on your food. My knowledge of New Mexican history won me a free wine tasting, though the guide did ask me if I was old enough to drink, which totally made my day.

My aunt and uncle drove me to Gruet to pick up my prize, which was a tasting of six different kinds of wine, most of them sparkly.
Three Reasons Gruet Winery Is Cool

1. It looks like a crazy castle on the highway.

2. They gave me free wine, including a rose champagne, which are my two favorite kinds of wine because I am a total chick sometimes.

3. They gave me a free champagne flute and everyone knows that the only thing that’s better than a free thing, is a free champagne flute. It combines elegance with cheapness in a very special way.

I love New Mexican cuisine and I certainly stuffed my face full on this trip. I will really miss the smoky flavors of the Land of Enchantment and look forward to going back as soon as possible.

Oh, and what’s my answer to the state question? Obvs it’s Christmas (aka red and green chile) mixed together. Y’all know I hate making decisions.

In Which I Drink A Car

2011-08-30T07:41:00.000-07:00

I had a very busy spring, so I decided to take it easy this summer and only go on one trip. This trip was both an obligation and a pleasure—to visit my aunt and uncle in New Mexico. I’ve been to New Mexico more times than pretty much any state that isn’t New York, Georgia, Louisiana, Minnesota, or Rhode Island and it is a magical and delicious destination.

Because I was staying with my aunt and uncle for most of the trip, I didn’t eat every meal at a restaurant, nor did I wish to. It’s a cliché but sometimes some of the best meals are great because of who you eat them with, not because of what you’re eating. Nevertheless, I did get plenty of time chowing down at some of New Mexico’s fine dining establishments and I would be happy to lead you along a stroll down Food Memory Lane.

Everything I Ate In New Mexico Over Summer Vacation 2011

1. 66 burger, pink Cadillac, and cherry pie at 66 Diner

As I believe I’ve said before, I think every traveler should have a favorite restaurant at every city. This doesn’t necessarily need to be the best restaurant in the city—my favorite restaurant in Atlanta is The Varsity, which is a fast food joint, and my favorite restaurant in New York City is Alice’s Tea Cup. In Paris, it might be Taillevent but when I hit the ground in Albuquerque, I head straight for the 66 Diner, which might as well be a world away from the French gastronomic palace.

The 66 Diner looks like the diner that Marty McFly visits when he goes back to 1955 in Back to the Future. This is high, high praise coming from me because nothing associated with Back to the Future can possibly be bad. I have a bit of an obsession with finding the world’s greatest burger and as far as I’m concerned, the 66 burger at the 66 Diner is a top contender. It features bacon and cheese, which is great, but the kicker is the fresh green chile all over the burger.

For dessert, I always have a piece of fresh cherry pie with real tart pie cherries. Diner cherry pie is one of my approximately top five favorite desserts.

My Approximately Top Five Favorite Desserts

1. Diner cherry pie (Best example, 66 Diner)

2. Bread pudding (Best example, Commander’s)

3. Hazelnut ice cream and/or gelato (Best example, Berthillon)

4. The chocolate cherry marzipan cake that my grandmother makes for birthdays (Best example, my grandma’s kitchen)

5. Cannoli (Best example, Mike’s in Boston)

6. Any English dessert as long as it comes with lashings of custard sauce (Best example, Tea and Sympathy)

7. I reserve the right to add on to this list later as I see fit but I will order any of the above, except for my grandma’s cake, at any restaurant anywhere. Perhaps not all at once, though.

This time, my aunt, uncle and I split a milkshake called The Pink Cadillac, which combines Oreos with strawberry ice cream in a delightfully creamy and splendid brew. It was the perfect capper to a perfect meal.

2. Fruit salad, juice, quiche, and scone at Bottger

I stayed at a lovely B and B called the Bottger Mansion, and y’all know how I feel about B and Bs. In the morning, the very nice couple who runs the Bottger feeds you a two course breakfast. The first course was a red fruit salad topped with yogurt that was very refreshing.

The second course was a flavorful piece of green chile quiche and a small, perfectly cooked cranberry scone. Green chile, in other words, fresh chile, is a local delicacy and probably the most New Mexican ingredient that you can possibly think of. You can find it on just about anything in New Mexico and in my opinion, it makes just about anything taste better.

3. Coconut chocolate cookie from Bottger

For lunch I had a free cookie, also from the Bottger. This cookie was coconut + chocolate + chewiness which equals a very happy me. I was still stuffed from the 66 Diner, so I didn’t really think I needed a big lunch after my big breakfast.

4. Salmon and tiramisu at Seasons

I did, however, want a big dinner and so I went to a rotisserie called Seasons, just a couple of blocks away from the center of Old Town. The people at the Bottger recommended it and even gave me a coupon good for a free dessert or appetizer.

The waitress recommended that I get the free tiramisu, which may not be my favorite Italian dessert, but which I still wouldn’t dream of turning down. She suggested that I accompany the tiramisu with the salmon. I was initially skeptical because New Mexico, being a totally landlocked state, is not known for its seafood. However, this was a nice restaurant and the salmon was delicious and simply prepared. I had nothing to worry about.

The waitress was right about the tiramisu too. The only problem with the dessert was that it was the size of my head and I couldn’t finish it. As potential tiramisu issues go, this is a high class problem.

5. Fruit salad, juice, sausage and French toast casserole at the Bottger

My last morning at the Bottger, I had a green fruit salad with a little homemade raspberry sorbet on top. I think I preferred this even to the previous morning’s salad. The second course was a totally scrumptious piece of blueberry French toast casserole. This is basically French toast but thicker and MORE OF IT, which is the only way French toast can be improved on, IMO. This came with a side of flavorful turkey sausage. I loved my stay at the Bottger and my food there and I would definitely go back.

6. Carne adovada sopapilla at Tito and Mary’s

My aunt and uncle came to pick me up that day and we spent the morning at the Indian Cultural Center. We then got lunch at a legendary local hole in the wall called Tito and Mary’s. This was named after the couple that founded the place, Alfonse and Evangeline. Alfonse (or Tito if you prefer to use his real name) is no longer with us, but the food is and it is delicious.

I had a sopapilla, which is a giant piece of fluffy bread, kind of like naan except that it is usually filled with something. In this case, it was filled with carne adovada, pork slow cooked in red chile. The neutral taste of the bread helps to balance out the spicy taste of the pork in a most delicious combination. I was also satisfied with this dish because it let me enjoy two New Mexican specialties for the price of one.

7. Guacamole, chile relleno, and tres leches cake at Gabriel’s

That night we had tickets to the Santa Fe Opera’s production of Faust and we met some friends of the family for dinner at Gabriel’s, which is a nice restaurant on the road near the Opera House. Gabriel’s is famous for having the best guacamole in New Mexico, which they make fresh table side. I hate that nasty guac gloopy stuff you get at so many bad Mexican places, but this is the real deal and it is yummy.

I had a chile relleno (chile pepper stuffed with cheese) and tres leches cake for dinner. Chile rellenos are popular in New Mexico, though they aren’t as regionally specific as carne adovada or anything with green chile on top. I enjoyed it very much because you could still taste the fresh chile and not just the breading and cheese.

I was tickled to hear the waiter say that their tres leches cake was their best dessert because it was recommended to me all over San Juan and now I am starting to wonder if every single restaurant in the Spanish speaking world recommends their tres leches cake as their best dessert. This one was good but The Parrot Club’s was better.

8. Junior Mints at Harry Potter

Well, this was hardly a local delicacy but I just wanted to add that my family and I went to see the last Harry Potter movie and I ate Junior Mints and it was awesome. I felt that this was relevant, because at the moment Junior Mints are my very favorite concession snack. However, this may change the more I see the world and learn to appreciate other kinds of movie snacks. Stay tuned!

In Which I Trick You Into Thinking I Am Bad At Math

2011-08-29T10:34:00.000-07:00

I know New Orleans about as well as I can know any non-New York city and I could come up with about ten thousand words to describe it. However, the one I choose in sensual. New Orleans is designed to be a feast to all the senses. I think I’ve already covered “taste” but I’d be happy to provide further evidence to demonstrate New Orleans' power over the other five.

Sight: Yes, there are parts of New Orleans that are run down and ugly, but I think at its most beautiful, it’s as beautiful as any city in the world. My favorite sight in New Orleans was the newly renovated City Park.

I promise you that this park looks much better than it did when I was a kid. It’s been renovated since Katrina and it looks fabulous. I particularly loved the sculpture garden in City Park, which contains sculptures by well-known contemporary artists like Louise Bourgeois and Jean-Michel Othoniel. It’s a gorgeous and relaxing place to spend the day.

Smell: I have two favorite smells of New Orleans. The first was the scent of Spanish Moss fragrance at the famous Hove perfume shop in the French Quarter. This store was started by an intrepid lady whose husband lost his job during the Great Depression. It’s lovely and fabulous and retro and I was pleased to be able to support a local business and buy a solid perfume. Bonus! I can take it on the airplane without violating TSA regulations.

The other is the smell of the roses at the Botanical Gardens. I spent a lot of time with the roses when I was volunteering at City Park, because we were helping to set up for the big flower show. Mostly what they needed us to do was sort and label the approximately flobbity-jillion different kinds of roses that were being presented. Southerners take their roses seriously.

Sorting roses doesn’t seem like anything major but it’s more helpful than it sounds like at first. New Orleans needs tourism to survive and it’s events like the flower show that help bring tourists to town and to attractions like the Botanical Gardens. I went back on the day of the flower show and the gardens were jam-packed with people, spending money and having a good time.

If I can accomplish one thing with this blog, it would be to encourage people to visit New Orleans. Spend your money, have a great time, and help the city. New Orleans needs you and you won’t regret it.

Touch: The fluffy, fluffy pillows at Le Pavillon. I’m not sure it’s worth it to stay at a fancy hotel very often but my goodness that was the most amazing bed I’ve ever slept in in my life. Though keep in mind, I’ve slept on a couch for most of my life, so my standards are quite low.

Sound: This one is a gimme. New Orleans has music playing all the time. I hate Bourbon Street, but I love walking through the Quarter during the day and seeing spontaneous performances break out. People dance in the streets, just like they did in Lapa in Rio, but unlike Rio, this wasn’t confined to the evening hours. In New Orleans, there’s music from sun-up to sun-down.

I did see a great planned show at Snug Harbor, which featured a quartet called Astral Project. This quartet contained a sax player, a guitar player, a bass player, and a drummer. They played mostly original music and some classics.

I am in no way shape or form a music expert, but what I love most about jazz is the way that each member of the quartet gets his or her time to shine during a set. This didn’t necessarily happen during each number but throughout the evening we got ample opportunity to hear the skills of each member of the quartet as well as the sound of the group altogether. It made me think it must be so much fun to play in a jazz quartet and it made me understand why some people give up everything to come down to New Orleans and play.

The Sixth Sense: I bet you thought I made a typo when I said that New Orleans appeals to five other senses. Well, I didn’t! New Orleans is the most haunted city I have ever been to, and I have been to Savannah and Roswell. Of course, the legendary cemeteries and ghost tours help contribute to the eerie feeling of the city, but New Orleans is also haunted by the ghosts of her very checkered history.

I spent a very entertaining afternoon touring the Beauregard Keyes House, one of the historic homes in the Quarter. The very existence of this house, and others like it all over the South, demonstrates the importance to Southerners of preserving the past and retelling stories about long-dead people so that they appear to become part of the present. Is there something creepy and racist about this?

Yes, to be sure, but that’s not all that there is. I think it’s a natural tendency to both want to be proud of where you came from, and I think a lot of groups tend to romanticize a certain period of history and think that times were better back then. So I would call the Southern romanticizing of the past 1/3 creepy and 2/3 understandable and even kind of awesome. I wish that we in New York took more care to preserve the past because that way we might not do stupid things like tear down the old Madison Square Garden.

Three Things You Should Know Before Visiting The Beauregard Keyes House

1. Keyes is pronounced so it rhymes with “prize”, not “bees”.

2. The house has previously belonged to Confederate Civil War General P.T. Beauregard and Mrs. Frances Keyes. Mrs. Keyes was a prolific and popular writer and many of her books are on sale at the store. I purchased a tiny little pamphlet biography of her.

3. The tour guide will refer to the Civil War as “The War Between the States”. At least mine did.

The Beauregard-Keyes House tour guide told me that the house was an important part of New Orleans history and an important part of my history as well, since my family was from there. I found there to be something inspiring about this notion.

I don’t know that there’s really anything useful about exploring one’s roots but I do love going to New Orleans even more than I would otherwise, because being there makes me closer to my family. I am planning on going back to New Orleans this winter, just to check out the city around Christmas time and see what it’s like.

But until then, here are:

My Approximately Top Ten Favorite Things About New Orleans Over My Second Spring Vacation 2011

1. Most Important Lesson Of The Trip: I learned that even if you know a city really well, there’s always more magic to discover.

2. Favorite Part of New Orleans: Faubourg Marigny! I love the colored houses, the coffee shops, the music, everything!

3. Favorite Experience (Arts): The surprisingly awesome sculpture garden in City Park.

4. Favorite Experience (Nature): Taking the ferry across the mighty Mississip for the first time.

5. Favorite Experience (History): Getting that deliciously eccentric tour of the Beauregard Keyes House.

6. Favorite Experience (Evening): Listening to some smooth jazz at Snug Harbor.

7. Favorite meal: The protein bar I ate in my hotel room the night of the rainstorm. Just kidding! Commander’s now and forever.

8. Favorite dessert: The bread pudding soufflé at Commanders

9. Favorite drink: The Bloody Mary at Commanders. (I will try to mention other restaurants next time. It’s not their fault I heart CP so.)

10. Favorite souvenir: The little book I bought at the Beauregard Keyes house.

11. Favorite thing about New Orleans in general: It’s the only place outside New York that really feels like home to me. I think NOLA is a lot like New York in that you either fall in love with the place or hate it. Also, I can be very happy in both cities not really doing anything but wandering around aimlessly and looking at the buildings and people.

In Which I Praise The Noble Swine As I Cheerfully Munch On Its Carcass

2011-08-28T08:41:00.000-07:00

Everything I Ate During the Tourist Portion of My Trip to New Orleans Over My Second Spring Vacation 2011

1. Beignets and café au lait at Café du Monde

I kicked off my first morning in New Orleans with beignets at Café du Monde. “But wait!” a careful reader might be asking. Didn’t you already eat beignets on this trip? I did! But there are

Three Perfectly Good Reasons I Needed to Eat Beignets Twice

1. I wasn’t really hungry the first time I ate the beignets, so I didn’t appreciate them.

2. I was about to go on a walking tour of the French Quarter and the only proper way to start a walking tour of the French Quarter is with beignets.

3. Beignets are delicious and I don’t need a better reason than that. Nyah!
They were just as greasy and delicious as they always are but be warned that if you go in the morning for breakfast, the lines are going to be much longer than they are for an evening dessert. I waited in line for half an hour, which wasn’t so bad, and a pleasant gentleman tried to sell us all his homemade jazz CD.

Also, no one is going to come and seat you. You need to keep an eagle eye out for your seat and then pounce on it. That’s the New Orleans way.

2. Muffuletta at Central Grocery

I’ve had many kinds of po’boys in New Orleans over the years (my favorite is fried oyster), but yet I had never sampled the classic Italian sandwich, the muffaletta. As I was already in the Quarter, which is where Central Grocery, The Home of The Muffaletta, is located, I thought it was time to introduce myself to this fine combination of bread and meat.

Now, everyone knows that New Orleans is super French, but some people may not realize how much people of many cultures, Native American, Spanish, African, Irish, Italian, and German, contributed to the culture of the city. The muffuletta sandwich is Sicilian in origin, though it was invented in New Orleans. It is made with sesame bread, salami, provolone, ham, Swiss, other things that are delicious, and most importantly, olive salad. The olive salad and muffuletta bread are the crucial ingredients.

You can order a full sandwich or a half. I got a half sandwich, because I really don’t think anyone needs a full muffuletta. It is so, so, so oily and delicious. I would use this sandwich as exhibit A in my case that fat makes everything more delicious. The meat is all rich and fatful and so is the cheese and the olive oil from the olive salad is just the delicious glue holding the whole thing together. It is truly a marvel of sandwich technology.

3. Pimm’s Cup at Napoleon House

OK, so y’all know that I feel no shame when it comes to doing things alone but I must admit that I find going to a bar alone a little odd. I mean, I’m not going there to pick up a gentleman because I know all about Looking For Mr. Goodbar and I really never want more than one cocktail, which limits the amount of time that I can spend in a bar. Also sitting alone, knocking back cocktails and reading a young adult novel looks weird and sad.

However, I do enjoy a fine beverage from time to time and I had never been to the Napoleon House bar to try their famous Pimm’s Cup. Now, obviously the Napoleon House did not invent the Pimm’s Cup, the English did that, probably accompanied by a rousing chorus of "Rule Britannia". However the Napoleon House is so famous for their Pimm’s (a combination of Pimm’s, lemonade, ice and a cucumber) that the recipe is on the website.

Anyway, I had a Pimm’s at the bar, where I got a really good view of the bust of Napoleon behind the bar. It is a perfect cocktail for New Orleans because it is so light and refreshing, although I am curious as to why the Napoleon House is so famous for a non-native concoction.

4. Shrimp risotto, duck five ways, and ice cream/sorbets at Stella!

I try to experience a different new fancy restaurant every time I am in New Orleans, recognizing, of course that I must always go to Commander’s. This time, I decided to visit a restaurant in the Quarter called Stella! Those of you familiar with New Orleans trivia will be aware that this restaurant was named after me.

Or possibly a character from a Tennessee Williams play. But I choose to believe it was named after yours truly. I mean, who goes to the theater anymore anyway.

The service at Stella! Was really extraordinary and Microsoft Word won’t let me write that sentence without capitalizing the Was. Everyone was so friendly and solicitous. I felt right at home.

Because I had only eaten peanut M and Ms for dinner the previous night, I felt that it was time to do New Orleans food up right. The waitress recommended their gulf shrimp risotto and gnocchi, but I chose the risotto because the ingredients seemed more New Orleanian.

Risotto is just the perfect dish. I could eat it weekly. It is creamy and chewy and satisfying. How can something so rice-like be so much better than plain rice? The gulf shrimp were big and meaty and tasty. I thought this was a great way to take local ingredients (rice and shrimp) and fancify them.

The main course was duck five ways, and this is really an embarrassment of riches because I would totally be satisfied with duck one way. Also, I am contractually obligated at this point to mention that as much as I enjoyed the duck, my sister is a duck fiend and would have enjoyed it more.

The Five Ways That The Duck Was Prepared

1. Szechwan Seared Breast
2. Lacquered Leg and Thigh
3. Moo Shoo Pancake Stir Fry
4. Duck Miso Broth
5. Crisp Foie Gras Wontons

I just took all this info from the Stella! Menu. My favorite was the moo shoo. I think duck moo shoo may be the perfect food because it is delicious, fancy, messy, and fun to eat.

My dessert was a big bowl of assorted ice creams and sorbets. I remember that they were very tasty, though sadly the exact selection has been lost to time. What I mostly remember is that the bowl was kept cold with liquid nitrogen, which smokes like a magic trick in a circus and is really fun to watch.

I definitely want to go back to Stella! At some point and try the chef tasting menu. In fact, I vow from now on to eat the tasting menu at every restaurant because it’s the best way to try the most dishes for the least amount of money. It’s a lot of food but I will just have to make the sacrifice.

5. Breakfast buffet at Le Pavillon

The breakfast buffet at Le Pavillon is as fancy and awesome as you might expect. It is not, however, included in the price of the room, so minus points for that. What is even the point of staying at a nice hotel if they don’t give you breakfast?

Anyway, the food was delicious. I had some eggs, bacon, and a yummy fluffy biscuit. I also had a very friendly waiter who wanted to know all about the Chaucer I was reading because his sister studied English lit. This is one of the things I like about traveling—you learn that you can never expect what people are secretly going to be interested in. I wouldn’t guess that a waiter in a New Orleans hotel would care about medieval lit, but then I probably wouldn’t assume that anyone, anywhere is interested in that subject except for me.

6. Crawfish With A Total Stranger in City Park

This wasn’t an official meal, but was rather a serendipitous food happening. I was relaxing in City Park when a woman sat down next to me and told me that she liked my dress. She was with her daughter, her daughter’s friend, her mother, and a big bag of boiled crawfish.

So, you’re not going to find a big bag of boiled crawfish at a restaurant but they are a New Orleans delicacy. You eat them out of the shell and they are spiced with one of the various local spice blends. Anyway, this lady, whose name I never learned because I don’t like learning names of people I will never see again, offered to share her crawfish with me, so this became my lunch.

She was interested in the fact that my parents are both Southern and asked if they missed the food. I said that they did and that it was hard to get good New Orleans food in New York. She laughed and said, “I bet them Yankees’d think you was a right savage if they could see you eatin’ these whole crawfish”. I don’t care if you do think I’m a right savage because the crawfish are yummy enough to make me tolerate your judgment.

7. Nola Nectar Sno-ball

For dessert, there is really only one choice following crawfish in the park, and that is a luscious Sno-ball. Sno-balls are New Orleans delicacies and they are a little difficult to describe. I grew up visiting a Sno-ball stand in Metairie, Louisiana, right near my grandmother’s house and I remember the key feature of the Sno-ball stand is that it involves a big pile of very fluffy ice with flavored sugar syrup poured over it until saturation. A good Sno-ball stand will offer many, many flavors. When I was a kid, I would get a different flavor every day.

This stand was run by a couple of kids, who recommended one of their “creamy” flavors. I chose NOLA Nectar, which is bright red and tastes like a cream soda. It was a perfect accompaniment for a stroll around City Park.

8. Gumbo and a vodka grapefruit at Snug Harbor

I had a big expensive dinner the night before, so I stuck to a bowl of gumbo at a jazz club called Snug Harbor over on Frenchmen Street. This is a really famous local club and I had tickets to the show that night, so I just grabbed a quick bowl of gumbo in the neighboring restaurant.

Before the show starts, a waitress comes by to take drink orders. I did my usual and just asked her to bring me whatever she likes. She gave me a vodka grapefruit, which was quite refreshing. One of these days, I need to pick a signature cocktail. However, that day is not today!

9. Peanut butter and jelly sandwich at Le Pavillon

Of course, there was no way I was going to pass up an opportunity to check out the PB and J spread at Le Pavillon and considering the lightness of my dinner, this seemed like the perfect time.

This spread was a serious good time. They had silver dishes with different kinds of peanut butter, jelly, and bread set out on a long table in the lobby. I chose the red jelly, which I think was strawberry, the crunchy peanut butter, and the wheat bread. I washed this all down with a cup of creamy hot chocolate.

Peanut butter, like duck, risotto and chocolate, is one of nature’s perfect foods. It’s good for you, it’s filling, and it’s kind of sweet. In fact, I think the perfect meal for me might be duck risotto followed by peanut butter and chocolate pie. Now if I could just decide on the perfect cocktail…

10. Bloody Mary, three little pigs gumbo, eggs cochon de lait, and bread pudding soufflé at Commander’s

OK, so as delicious as all of the rest of the food I had in New Orleans was, it was merely a prelude to the greatest meal available in the continental United States. That would be, of course, the jazz brunch at Commander’s.

I did not have a reservation, which I really should have done, but the very pleasant maître d’ seated me anyway. The jazz brunch is awesome because there are balloons and also jazz music. The musicians wander around the restaurant playing at your table. One of them chastised me mildly for studying on a Sunday, but I think he just didn’t realize that I am a nerd and for me, studying is kind of fun.

Of course, I had the lunch special, which features an awesome Bloody Mary (with a pickled OKRA in it). I know lots of Yankees don’t like okra because it’s slimy and they have poor taste and judgment, but like all good things, okra is really delicious once you get used to it.

The appetizer was a smoky “Three Little Pigs” gumbo, with bacon, ham, and pork shoulder. Eating it, I was reminded of Homer Simpson’s skepticism regarding the possibility that three such amazing meat products could come from the same beast. The pig is truly a wondrous creature.

The main course involved even more pork, though this time the chicken also provided a crucial contribution. Vegetarians should maybe look away from this next part. Cochon de lait literally means pig of milk but figuratively it means slow roasted baby pig. So rich and tender. So fabulous. Bless you, dead baby pig.

The final course was the bread pudding soufflé, which I have described earlier. Once again, it was fluffy and amazing and finished with whiskey hard sauce. I’ve come to believe that I need to eat this dessert once a year to live. Oh well, it just gives me an excuse to visit New Orleans annually! Poor me.

In Which I Tell Some Vicious Culinary Lies

2011-08-27T09:25:00.000-07:00

I made a choice for my next vacation that was both excellent and terrible. I flew back from France on a Sunday night because I had grad school class the next day. I then began my next vacation on Tuesday by flying to New Orleans that afternoon.

This was excellent because New Orleans is awesome but it was terrible because two vacations in such short order, especially two vacations involving places with such incredibly delicious and amazing food is both overwhelming and a good way to make you sick. I mean, when I looked back on my trip, I realized that for a week there, I spent the night in six different cities (Rouen, Bayeux, Mont St. Michel, Paris, New York, and New Orleans). Even for a champion traveler like myself, this was tough going.

Nevertheless, I’m not going to sit here and whine about my tough fortune at having to eat lots of fabulous French and French-adjacent food. No, instead I will celebrate my sensationally glutinous binge. Come along with me to read about the culinary delights of the Crescent City.

Everything I Ate In New Orleans For My Second Spring Vacation 2011

1. A glass of white wine

I go to New Orleans every year because my mother was from there. Her mother was also from there, and so was her mother, and in fact my family has lived in the Big Easy since my great-great-great grandfather Patrick McCloskey came over from Ireland in 1860 in order to engage in back-breaking manual labor. My mom passed away two years ago and going down to New Orleans makes me feel closer to her.

I always volunteer a day in New Orleans when I am down there, in memory of a friend of mine who was very committed to community service. I decided that since I had five full days in New Orleans on this trip, that I would divide the trip into two portions, the service portion and the tourist portion. For the service portion, I would stay at the wacky Balcony Guest House, and for the tourist portion of the trip, I would stay at the fancier Le Pavillon hotel in the Central Business District.

The Balcony Guest House is very affordable, probably because it’s in the Faubourg Marigny and not the French Quarter, or a more popular tourist destination but they still have some sweet amenities. One of these amenities is a drink of your choice when you arrive.

This drink ended up being my dinner for the evening. I was still digesting my brunch at Laduree so I wasn’t very hungry and it started absolutely pouring rain, as it often does in New Orleans. So I had a very pleasant evening drinking a glass of white wine at the bar of the Balcony Guest House and then went to bed, ready for a day of service in the morrow.

2. Breakfast at The Balcony Guest House

Wednesday morning I had plans to volunteer at the New Orleans Botanical Gardens, located inside the lovely City Park. I wanted to volunteer with Habitat ReStore again but they were all booked up with people volunteering over their spring breaks. However, the travel gods were not on my side because that morning the rain was coming down like Sunday Morning and so I needed to postpone the volunteer day until Thursday.

The upside of having to change my plans was that I got to eat my free breakfast at the Balcony Guest House. The restaurant doesn’t open until 9 and they won’t be ready for breakfast until 9:30—remember New Orleans moves at a slower pace than other places—so you can’t eat your free breakfast unless you don’t mind getting a late start.

The breakfast is really, really good, though. I got scrambled eggs and toast but you can get whatever you want. I could tell the eggs were made fresh with lots of fat, just like I like em. Most hotel buffets have those eggs in silver tubs that just don’t taste as good.

3. Iced tea at CC’s Community Coffee House

I spent the morning in my hotel room because the rain was coming down in sheets and ended up just eating some protein bars for lunch. After my experience not being able to find food in French train stations, I decided it would be a good idea to always have some protein bars on me so I wouldn’t starve.

When the rain let up, I walked up Esplanade Avenue towards the Botanical Gardens to get a better sense of how I would need to get from my hotel to the volunteer job the next day. I stopped for an iced tea at CC’s Community Coffee House.

Now, New Orleans takes coffee very, very seriously. I have been to all sorts of different coffee shops in New Orleans, from the traditional Café du Monde, to the hipster haven The Orange Couch. I saw nary a Starbucks within Jefferson Parish. Instead, I saw plenty of CC’s Community Coffee Houses, which serve New Orleans classic coffee brand, Community Coffee.

This coffee has been around a while, in fact my mom used to tell me about seeing Jim Henson ads for Community Coffee when she was a kid. (Check them out here because they are amazing.) Because it was such a hot day I opted for the iced tea, but now I kind of regret this. I should have at least tried the famous Community Coffee. Ah well, next time.

4. Ferdi Special Po’boy at Mother’s

I spent that afternoon at the World War II Museum and then went to meet a friend of mine for dinner. He happened to be in town for a business conference and we thought it would be great to meet up for po’boys at Mother’s.

Mother’s is a New Orleans institution. Most people will tell you that there are other places in New Orleans with better po’boys and certainly there are places with better décor (Mother’s is totally one of those generic cafeteria style restaurants) but their po’boys are yummy and it’s not a tourist trap.

I ordered the Ferdi Special, which is amazing. It has ham AND roast beef, so you need neither insult pig nor cow. It also has “debris”, which is a name for the pan scrapings from cooking those two fine animal products. All of this is put on top of some sturdy, thick bread. Feel free to order a half po’boy unless you have four stomachs.

Why is it called the Ferdi Special? It was named after former New Orleans mayor Antoine Ferdi, who caused a great scandal by ordering a ham po’boy at Mother’s and then sandwiching it in between a roast beef po’boy. In order to save the Mayor’s reputation, Mother’s put the Ferdi Special on the menu.
Yeah, I just made all that up.

5. Beignets at Café du Monde

After the Ferdi Special, we went to get dessert at Café du Monde because it’s open 24 hours a day and the beignets are one of the most delicious desserts anyone could possibly eat. I mean, they are three fried pillows of dough covered with powdered sugar. You’ve got your flour, your sugar and your lard altogether. Add a little café au lait and you have caffeine and dairy at the same time. That’s all five food groups, right?

Well, I felt pretty bummed with myself because I don’t think I properly appreciated the amazingness of the beignets. I was feeling kind of overloaded on rich food and all I wanted to do was go home and drink carrot juice for a week. My pal enjoyed his pillows of deliciousness but I sadly did not give them their due.

6. Yogurt, raspberry muffin and coffee at The Orange Couch

The next morning, I realized that I couldn’t let having indulged a little too much on rich French food spoil my amazing trip. I would just dial it back a notch and stick to eating just what I felt like eating and making sure I enjoyed it.

That morning, I grabbed a Greek yogurt, raspberry muffin and coffee at The Orange Couch. I’ve talked about this place before because I enjoy it so much. It has a very sterile and white look except for the big orange couch in the middle of the coffee shop. The coffee was good as always and the raspberry muffin was moist and had real fruit in it, just like a good fruit muffin should.

7. Triple Delight at Five Happiness

I spent Thursday volunteering at the Botanical Gardens and I had lunch with my fellow volunteers and City Park officials. This was the one meal of the trip I had no say in at all, because all the BG workers were headed for lunch at a Chinese restaurant called Five Happiness.

Now, I was expecting this to be disgusting because as a New Yorker, it’s hard to imagine New Orleans Chinese food to be any good. I mean, I don’t think New Orleans even has a Chinatown. But to my surprise, the Triple Delight (chicken and vegetables in a brown sauce) was pretty good. It wasn’t New York Chinese quality, but it had flavor and the veggies were crunchy and I would totally eat it again deliberately.

Why is it called the Triple Delight? Is it because it contains chicken, veggies, AND sauce? Are there three kinds of veggies? Pick less obscure names, people of New Orleans!

8. Iced coffee and biscotti at Fair Grinds

Third coffee house of the trip! I stopped in here while walking down Esplanade Ridge on my way from City Park to my new hotel, Le Pavillon. This time, though it was a hot day, I didn’t make the mistake of bypassing the local special for iced tea. The coffee was great, the chocolate biscotti was yummy, and the waitress complimented my suitcase, so that’s three out of three things that I look for in a coffee shop right there.

Why was the waitress complimenting my suitcase? Well, I was switching hotels so I needed to take my suitcase with me to the Botanical Gardens and then I needed to wheel it with me from City Park all the way down to the CBD and my hotel. This walk took me two hours. Why didn’t I just take a cab? Well, unless my life is potentially at risk, I don’t like taking cabs because that’s money better spent elsewhere.

9. Apple Hubig’s Pie at Terranova’s

After Fair Grinds, I stopped at an old and legendary local grocery store called Terranova. This place has been around since 1925 and supposedly makes an amazing sausage.

However, I was not in the mood for meat products. In fact, I wasn’t planning to buy anything, until I saw the Holy Grail of Southern pastries sitting on the counter. That’s right, Terranova’s, as appropriate for a local New Orleans business, stocks Hubig’s Pies.

These puckets of ooey fruity goodness taste of childhood and dreams. They were my mom’s favorite pastry and I need to get one every time I am in the city. I prefer the lemon, but the apple was pretty satisfying.

This Pie made me wonder about situations that call for unadulterated fruit and situations that call for adulterated fruit. Like, I would have been distressed to find that apple filling in my muffin but I would have been equally distressed to find nothing but pieces of fresh apple in my Hubig’s with none of that strange apple jam-like gooey substance. It just goes to show that context is everything.

10. Peanut M and M’s at Le Pavillon

Le Pavillon is the fanciest hotel at which I have ever stayed. I wouldn’t ordinarily stay at such a fancy hotel, but I got a great deal at booking.com and thought it would be fun to give the high life a shot.
Everyone at Le Pavillon was super, super nice to me and the hotel itself looks like a palace. A crazy gold-covered palace with a double staircase. And that is not all. Oh no, that is not all.

Three Reasons Le Pavillon Is Awesome

1. The doorman is a giant and wears a giant top hat, making him doubly giant.

2. Le Pavillon provides a peanut butter and jelly sandwich buffet with your choice of milk or hot chocolate. FOR FREE. EVERY NIGHT. Except for breakfast, this is the best amenity ever.

3. There is a mini-bar with everything.

Now, ordinarily I don’t condone minibars because they are overpriced and are just there to take advantage of hungry and lazy tourists. However, I had never seen a minibar this well-stocked and I was so tired from working at the Botanical Gardens all day and then walking two hours down Esplanade, so I only had the energy to grab a handful of Peanut M and M’s from my fridge and pass out on one of the incredibly fluffy beds.

The M and Ms were both the priciest and tastiest M and Ms I’ve ever eaten, but I might just think that because I was so sleepy.

Next time, stay tuned for everything I ate on the tourist portion of my trip. I promise that I will eat in some actual restaurants!

In Which I Become Obsessed With Pleasing A Long Dead Travel Writer, Possibly Because Of Unresolved Issues With My Father

2011-08-26T13:57:00.000-07:00

Do I really need to go to the trouble of coming up with a different word for Normandy than I did for Paris? No, no I don’t. The Normans might not be nearly as chic or as superior as Parisians, but the history and sights of Normandy are even more humbling than the wonders of Paris. I could ramble on for pages about the wonderful things I saw in my long weekend in Normandy but I’ve decided to limit myself to the three most majestic.

1. That old castle in Rouen

I was super excited about stopping in Rouen because the town is so closely associated with Joan of Arc, who was tried for witchcraft at Rouen Cathedral and burned at the stake in the town square. Mlle d’Arc is one of my personal heroes. Allow me to explain.

An Amusing Anecdote From My Childhood

When I was in 4th Grade, we had to read a biography of our hero and then dress up as that person and allow our teacher to interview us. My first choice was famous stripper Gypsy Rose Lee, but Mrs. Schulhof wouldn’t let me do that. So I went with Joan of Arc as my second choice. I distinctly remember that my teacher asked me what it felt like to be burned at the stake and I said something like “I didn’t like it.”

So, like I said, I was expecting to be amazed by the ancient Rouen Cathedrals and the monument to my very favorite saint, and they are pretty spectacular.

But what I wasn’t expecting was THIS tower:

As I was wheeling my bag to the train station at the end of my stay in Normandy, I passed my suitcase past this tower, right in the middle of a bunch of ordinary modern buildings. There was a sign saying that this tower had been there since 1200. That’s right, mixed in a bunch of hideous industrial blocks was a construction that was more than 800 years old.
I can’t imagine just blithely strolling down the street past an 800 year old building. In New York, a 100 year old building is ancient. Y’all, compared to France, America is nothing more than a mewling, squealing infant, waiting to be smothered.

2. The Normandy Beaches

On Friday, I took a half day tour of the Normandy beaches that I booked through viator.com, along with a single middle-aged man from Texas, a trio of American college girls, and the couple from Cincinnaland that gave me that apple. Our tour guide was French.

I’m going to try to avoid getting flip about such a serious subject matter-both my grandfathers were WWII veterans, so I would never want to say anything to imply that I was less than respectful of the servicemen who fought that day. The guide did a good job remaining both sober and interesting; the one joke he told was about the WWI monuments placed in each French town. He said that each monument featured a rooster because, like the French, the rooster was “proud and annoying”. His words, not mine.

First we drove around and looked at a couple of beaches, including Omaha Beach and our guide explained why so many Americans were killed at Omaha (because the tide took them further than they expected, which forced them to approach at a particularly steep part of the cliff).

Now the beach is eerily peaceful and there are plenty of French people with beach houses in the region. I can’t decide whether or not I approve or disapprove of this. The guide told us that they still occasionally find corpses of soldiers (Axis and Allies) in the backyards of people’s country homes. We spent half an hour looking at the monument to the fallen and exploring the beaches and then went to the American Cemetery.

The guide said that this was the most visited cemetery after Arlington and that it was reserved for servicepeople who were killed serving in Normandy, although they did make exceptions for soldiers who had siblings buried at the Normandy cemetery. The cemetery is weirdly beautiful because the white marble crosses are so simple and uniform. There’s something very moving about the plain symmetry of the place.

The guide also told us this awesome story about a soldier who was stuck in a bunker with 10 other soldiers. He wanted to take a chance against the Germans but no one would go with him so by himself he went out, took about 30 German soldiers prisoner singlehandedly and led them back to his shocked fellow soldiers back in the bunker. Is this true? Why has no one made a movie about this guy?

If you’re a history nerd like me, you know that England was originally conquered by the Normans (specifically William the Conqueror) at the Battle of Hastings. I was therefore especially touched with our guide pointed out to us the sign thanking the English for rescuing “the land of the conqueror”. This is perfectly French because it is lovely and touching and also manages to brag at the same time.

3. Mont St. Michel at night

After the tour, the guide dropped us off at the Bayeux train station. The rest of the travelers were heading back to Paris, but I was going to Mont St. Michel. I had dreaming of seeing this church since I was a kid, because I read about it in a book of my dad’s called Halliburton’s Book of Marvels. Mr. Halliburton would often say that he was addressing his remarks to the young men and intrepid young women reading his book and I became convinced that if I saw all of the places in Halliburton’s book, I was prove that I was truly intrepid.

Mont St. Michel is the most popular destination in France outside of Paris and is often called La Merveille because it is marvelous. Here are

Three Reasons Mont St. Michel Is Awesome

1. It is over 1000 years old.

2. It is on an island, which just makes the church more exciting to get to and amazing to look at because sometimes the bottom of the island is swallowed by the tide.

3. If you go there, it proves that you are an intrepid young woman because Mr. Halliburton said so.

I had a ticket for the last train to Pontorson, which is the closest town to Mont St. Michel. Be warned, there isn’t always a late train to Pontorson, I had just lucked out because there happens to be an evening train on Friday.

I arrived at Pontorson at around 9:30 and realized I wasn’t sure how to get from here to Mont St Michel. I had thought there would be a bus from here to the Mont, but I didn’t see one. I thought I should call a cab but I didn’t know the number of a local company.

Well, I was in luck because there were a couple of seedy bars near the station and I thought my French skills could get me some assistance. The first bar I poked my head into had nothing but a group of drunk looking Frenchmen and I didn’t feel up to tackling them. But the second bar had a competent lady bartender who told me that the bus to Mont St. Michel should be leaving in a few minutes but if it didn’t, she’d call me a cab.

Well it turns out that Super Competent French Lady Bartender was right. The bus showed up and a fat and bleary eyed old man behind the wheel took my handful of euros and drove me to Mont St Michel.

No one else got on the bus the whole rest of the ride, so when we finally arrived at the mont, there was no one but me and Monsieur Sullen to see the spectacular sight of Mont St Michel all lit up and rising out of the darkness.

I felt like Cinderella being driven to the Prince’s castle in a pumpkin coach, except instead of a coachman, I had a silent aged Gallic public servant, instead of a pumpkin coach, I had a big pink bus, and instead of a ball gown, I had a damp trenchcoat. But I think I came out ahead of Ms. Cinderella because no Charming Castle could have been as gorgeous as the vision of Mont St. Michel at night.

Mont St. Michel is almost as inspiring and glorious during the day as it is at night. Because I spent the night at a hotel on the rock, instead of in Pontorson, I was able to explore the exterior of the church early in the morning. I spent the whole time muttering to myself, “Living the dream!” and gawking.

I am so glad that I finally got outside Paris and saw some of France’s other glories. I can’t wait to go back to France this spring and see some of the other sights in Normandy, like Monet’s garden in Giverny. Also, I would like to do some more eating and drinking. You can never do enough of that in France.

My Approximately Top Ten Favorite Things About France

1. Most Important Lesson Of The Trip: I learned to be less self-conscious in general about not being as chic as a French girl and losing my accent. The more relaxed I was, the better the trip was, and as usual I came home with a lot more confidence.

2. Favorite Part of Paris: The Champs-Elysees is the most perfect street in the world, the end. I would never leave New York but the only thing that could possibly tempt me is the possibility of watching the sun set over the Arc de Triomphe every night.

3. My favorite part of Normandy: Normandy is awesome in general, but Mont St. Michel has been my dream since I was a girl and it lived up to the hype

4. Favorite Experience (Arts): I wish I could move into the Louvre because that’s how much I love it. I’m sure you could spend a year there and still not see everything.

5. Favorite Experience (Nature): This wasn’t much of a “nature” trip but I do love that cruise along the Seine.

6. Favorite Experience (History): There’s so much history in France that it’s hard to choose but the experience of seeing the beaches at Normandy was very moving.

7. Favorite Experience (Evening): Thinking back on it, I don’t think I did much stuff in the evening at all. I’ll have to rectify that next time. I’ll say watching the Eiffel Tower light up at night. As cliché as it sounds, it should be on every travelers life list.

8. Favorite meal: Ha! As if there could be any doubt. The greatest meal I have ever eaten (at least until I go back to Taillevent). Restaurants of the world, consider yourself on notice.

9. Favorite dessert: The hazelnut and pear ice cream at Berthillion.

10. Favorite drink: That free cognac at Taillevent.

11. Favorite souvenir: I got a faiance porcelain cat in Rouen, which is now sitting on my dresser with my seashells from San Juan and wooden owl from Takayama.

12. Favorite thing about France in general: It is the most beautiful country in the world. The restaurants and food are beautiful. The churches are the most beautiful in the world. The people are beautiful. Even the bridges and trains are beautiful. If you go to France and don’t fall in love with its beauty, it’s quite possible that you are dead to all feeling.

In Which I Attempt To Foreclose On TD Bank

2011-08-24T17:06:00.000-07:00

I bet you think I’m going to come up with an extreme superlative to describe France, like “gorgeous” or “romantic” or “breathtaking”. Well, France is all of those things, but those aren’t the first words to come to mind when I think of that fabulously infuriating nation.

No, the perfect word to describe France, for both good and ill, is humbling. The French are notoriously good at making tourists feel humbled because they are nowhere near as chic or cool as the French. I myself was humbled throughout the course of my trip in ways that made me feel humbled with awe and ways that made me feel humbled with shame. The greatest source of shame for me was the response that I got from the French about my accent.

An Amusing Anecdote From My Childhood

Now, my French used to be really good. The first time I went to France, at the age of eleven, my French was so good that it allowed me to get free Chanel perfume. I went into the Chanel store, with my twenty dollars worth of francs that could totally buy me nothing, and asked in French how much a bottle of Chanel No. 5 cost. The salesman refused to sell me anything, and instead gave me a set of five small Chanel perfumes. If he was trying to make me a loyal Chanel perfume customer for life, mission accomplished.

This time around, my accent had gotten a little rusty, because I had not received any opportunity to practice my French since graduating high school. Usually, when I spoke in French with the people of Paris, they responded in French, but occasionally they would roll their eyes at me and refuse to continue in their native language. This made me feel somewhat lower than pond scum.

Another great source of shame was the Incident at Taillevent When It Came Time To Pay. I gave the waiter my card and he returned to tell me that it had been declined. This was completely horrifying to me, not least because I don’t have a credit card, I have a debit card, and I knew that I had enough money in my account to pay for the meal.

I pulled out my phone and looked up the number of a TD Bank in New York, so I could yell at a representative. Bear in mind that I had already consumed four glasses of wine and a Cognac and I was terrified.

Anyway, I got a woman on the phone and I asked her what was wrong with my account. She told me that they had put a freeze on my account because of the unexplained foreign charges.

“You’re supposed to tell us when you are leaving the country,” she scolded. This was a bridge too far.

“I DID TELL SOMEONE!” (This is true.)

“Really? Who?”

“HIS NAME WAS DAN!” (Also true.)

“I don’t know anyone named Dan.” (Highly unlikely and also irrelevant.)

“HE’S AT A DIFFERENT BRANCH!”

For some reason, this seemed to satisfy her and she told me that she was going to lift the freeze on my account. I handed the card back to the waiter, it went through, and he made a crack about my magic phone call. Still, I can hardly think of any experiences that would be more humbling than not being able to pay for my meal at Taillevent and having to spend the rest of my trip washing dishes instead.

Now for the good ways in which I was humbled. There is so much beauty in Paris that it’s hard to take it all in. Just wandering around the city made me feel small in a very satisfying way, the way a child feels when looking up at her mother, or the way you feel when staring up at a night sky filled with stars. Just look at all the kinds of beautiful delights that Paris has to offer.

There’s artistic beauty:

I saw these four works as part of the 45 minute "Treasures of the Louvre" tour, provided by the audioguide. But the Louvre has so many treasures that you could totally avoid these four and still feel overwhelmed by all the sensational art.

Well, OK, it might be hard to avoid the Pyramid because it's at the entrance. But you could totally avoid the rest, if you wanted.

There’s the beauty of Paris itself, especially lit up at night:

There’s the incredible wealth and beauty of French history all around you:

Finally, and most wonderfully, there is the beauty of French churches. My jaw was literally on the floor most of the time I was photographing these beauties. Well, not literally, because that would be weird. But come on:

I am fond of calling NYC the greatest city in the world, but I feel humbled as an American and a New Yorker when presented with all the amazing beauty, culture, and history of Paris, and having to accept defeat and admit that another city might be superior to the Big Apple is the most humbling experience a New Yorker can have.

Next time, I continue to be humbled by Normandy, and will once again provide more than three pictures in my post.

In Which I Eat Stale Fruit From Some Strange And Mysterious Midwesterners In A Crummy Norman Train Station

2011-08-23T16:23:00.000-07:00

After leaving Paris on Wednesday afternoon, I spent the next few days on the road in Normandy, exploring the various little towns, churches, and historical sights. Because of being on the move most afternoons, I rarely ate both lunch and dinner. I kind of like this way of eating because I got to totally enjoy a classic French pastry-based breakfast and a delicious three or four course meal. In my opinion, three of these meals a day is just too much.

Now, nutritionists will tell you that four small meals a day is the better way to eat because it helps keep your blood sugar stable. But I, the roving travel nutritionist (not a real thing), say that one big meal, one medium sized meal, and one snack if necessary, is the way to keep your energy up on the road. I call this camel style eating.

Everything I Ate In Normandy (As Well As Some More Stuff In Paris) Over Spring Vacation 2011

1. Pate, chicken stew, red wine, and tarte tatin at Pascaline

I arrived in Rouen Wednesday afternoon, checked in to my hotel and spent the rest of the afternoon and early evening walking around the town. I decided to eat dinner at a classic bistro called Pascaline. The décor was super old school, with white tablecloths and little square booths, and a prix fixe for under 30 euros.

I asked the waitress what she suggested, and she recommended the country pate, the chicken stew, and the tarte tatin. I quickly learned that every restaurant in Normandy thinks that they serve the best country pate and apple tart. Apple tart is definitely the tres leches cake of Normandy.

I washed this all down with a glass of the house red. I think getting the house wine is always a safe choice at any decent restaurant in France. The food was good, nourishing bistro fare. I found a bone in my chicken stew, but that just added to the rustic feel of the place. The tarte tatin was good; I would probably rank it third among the three apple tarts I had previously consumed, but that isn’t a judgment on the tart. It just wasn’t quite as amazing as the two I had in Paris.

2. Breakfast at Alive de Quebec

I stayed at an inexpensive hotel in Normandy called Alive Hotel de Quebec, and to my surprise, their breakfast spread was the best out of all four hotels at which I stayed over the course of my trip to France. It wasn’t very different from any of the other hotels EXCEPT for the very important fact that they give each table its own bread basket filled with fresh pastries. They don’t bring this basket out until you come down to eat breakfast, so it’s warm and fresh. At the other hotels, the pastries were sitting out on the buffet. Also, the breakfast here was cheaper, even though it was the best, so doubly well-played Alive Hotel de Quebec.

3. Paillardises at La Chocolatiere

I spent the rest of the morning strolling around Rouen before I had to catch my train to Bayeux. My Frommer’s told me that I needed to buy some chocolate at a lovely shop called La Chocolatiere. They specialize in a kind of candy called the paillardise, which is made from a kind of crystallized caramelly stuff, covered in chocolate. It’s so fragrant that it almost smells perfumed, but in a delicious and classy way, not in an artificial way. I believe this may be the candy that they serve in heaven. If there is candy in heaven.

There has to be candy in heaven, right?

Right?

4. Cider, pate, fish stew, Camembert, and apple tart at Le Pommier

I had a wonderful Norman feast at a restaurant called Le Pommier near the Bayeux cathedral. It will surprise you not even at all to know that the waitress recommended their pate de la maison and their apple tarte, which was kind of deconstructed and based on puff pastry instead of a regular pastry and served with caramel sauce. It was actually my favorite apple tart that I ate in France.

The waitress was really nice and happy to make suggestions. I loved her choices of cheese for my cheese plate, she told me she was giving me the most “Norman” cheeses. I washed all of this scrumptiousity down with a demi-bouteille of local cider, which was not too sweet and terrifically refreshing.

5. Breakfast at Le Lion d’Or

Le Lion d’Or was my wonderful hotel in Bayeux. It was my favorite of the four hotels at which I stayed. It was very comfortable and the restaurant was excellent. I think the breakfast spread was delicious too, but I rank it second for two reasons. The first is that the pastries weren’t warm like they were at Alive Hotel de Quebec, although Le Lion d’Or did have brioche, which almost cancels out the difference.

The second is that there was a bowl full of eggs and I totally thought they were boiled in the shell, but instead, I cracked one open on my plate and it was full on RAW. I saw a machine for boiling eggs on the buffet later, but I think they should have a sign.

6. Lunch and “Café Gourmand” at Le Lion d’Or

I spent the morning looking at the Bayeux tapestry and thought I had time for lunch before my tour bus was supposed to arrive to take me around the Normandy D-Day beaches. I had an hour and this was NOT enough time. Here’s a very important travel tip: do not ever leave less than 90 minutes for a sit down meal in case something goes wrong. In this case, what went wrong was that, though the restaurant was supposed to open at 12, it didn’t really get started until 12:20.

I ordered the smallest lunch I could, which was a main course and something called a “café gourmand” for dessert. I thought the café gourmand would just be coffee with a couple of bonbons, but instead it was coffee served with four miniature desserts on a little tray. It was gorgeous and the fact that I only had about five minutes to eat it made me want to weep. I remember that the miniature rice pudding was especially delightful. I will have to go back to Le Lion d’Or and have a more lavish meal when I have more time.

7. Apple and nuts in Bayeux train station

Exploring the D-Day beaches and American Cemetery in Normandy is not quite the way to work up an appetite. I went on a terrific tour with an assorted group of Americans and spent a good couple of hours waiting in the Bayeux train station for my train to Mont St. Michel with a sweet couple of older gentlemen from Cleveland or possibly Cincinnati. I would have eaten nothing for dinner except that the men had a bag of apples and some almonds with them and were nice enough to share them with me.

Ordinarily you shouldn’t take food from strangers, but I say that if you can’t trust a couple of retired gay gentlemen from a city in the state of Ohio that begins with the letter C, in whom can you put your trust? There is such a thing as being too skeptical, you know.

8. Breakfast at Le Mouton Blanc

I arrived at my hotel on the “rock” of Mont St Michel late on Friday and had breakfast at the hotel in the morning. This was the weakest of the four hotel breakfasts, largely because the fruit seemed kind of stale and low quality and there were fewer choices than there were at the other places. I have to say that the hotel’s location, right next to Mont St. Michel kind of makes up for the less than ideal breakfast.

9. Trio of salmon, omelette, apple desserts three ways at La Mere Poulard

La Mere Poulard is one of the most famous restaurants in Normandy, largely because it’s been in business a really, really long time and because they serve a most unusual kind of omelette. This omelette is incredibly fluffy and more like a soufflé than a traditional omelette. The restaurant is pretty fun because you can watch the cooks making the omelettes in giant copper bowls over an open fire.

Be warned: the restaurant is quite expensive, though you will get an appetizer and dessert with your omelette, and the omelette is quite plain tasting. This doesn’t mean bad, it means that there are no “extras” in the omelette, that it is mainly notable for the texture and feel of the dish, because it seems like there are only eggs in it.

I’m glad I ate at La Mere Poulard, because it is so famous, but I’d say it’s kind of like Paula Deen’s restaurant. Go for the experience and to say that you’ve been, not because it’s going to serve the best food you’ve ever eaten in your life. The salmon trio and apple desserts were good but not amazing. I did like the smoked salmon terrine and the pure apple sorbet, that tasted quite a bit like the apple crisp ice cream flavor from Sebastian Joe’s in Minneapolis.

10. Hamburger and red wine at Le Drugstore

I got back to Paris late on Saturday and I was tired and it was raining and kind of gross. I decided to return to Le Drugstore and finish that hamburger that I got on my first night. I ordered a glass of red to go with it instead of ice cream, which I feel represents an increase of growth and maturity on my part over the course of my stay in France.

The only downside is that my nice waitress had turned into a sullen Frenchman who gave me indifferent service and insisted on speaking to me in English, even though his English was much, much worse than my French. Well, I doubt the waitress really turned into the mean waiter, but it felt that way. I think French restaurants should hire either all great waiters or all terrible waiters, just so they don’t surprise and confuse the clientele.

11. Hazelnut ice cream with pear sorbet at Berthillon.

This was my breakfast snack my last morning in France. I spent the morning roaming the beautiful streets of Ile St. Louis and I stopped at the legendary ice cream shop Berthillon. The woman behind the counter said that these were the two best flavors, and if she was wrong, I don’t want to know what the two best flavors were. They’d have to be so delicious that you’d explode just from eating them. The pear was especially marvelous and tasting like eating a perfectly crystallized amazing sensational magical pear.

12. Scrambled Eggs, yogurt, fruit, juice, macaroons, pain au chocolat, chocolat chaud, bread and butter at Laduree

I wanted to make my last meal in France a particularly memorable one so I stopped at a lovely tearoom called Laduree, near my hotel. Since this was my last meal in Paris, I was determined to stuff myself with every piece of pastry I could get my grubby hands on, because who knows when I would be back?

The brunch spread was endless. I may have forgotten some of the delicious things I nommed on. My favorite things were the super intense creamy hot chocolate, and the famous Laduree macaroon cookies. They come in all sorts of wonderful flavors, I got brown ginger, pink raspberry, and black licorice and each one was spectacular, though I think the raspberry was my favorite.

Another highlight was that I sat next to a Japanese family from Osaka and got the exciting opportunity to speak Japanese and French at the same meal. The family wanted me to help their son practice his English but he was a little too shy, so I just showed him my Detective Conan keychain, which I think he enjoyed. I noticed that the waiter was much nicer to me than he was to the Japanese family and I can’t be sure if this was because my French was better than the Japanese father’s was, or because the waiter was racist.

It doesn’t need to be said that French food is spectacular, but until I got outside Paris, I wasn’t aware of the tremendous diversity in French cuisine. I can’t wait for the opportunity to travel all around France and sample all the different kinds of food that the country has to offer.

In Which I Do Not Approve Of Some People Who Refuse To Live Up To The High Standards Of Ernest Hemingway

2011-08-22T16:17:00.000-07:00

Well, having gotten the magnificent feast at Taillevent out of the way, I still have many more delicious French comestibles to share with you all. I decided that this list is so long, I should divide it into two parts, Paris and Normandy, so as to not overwhelm the readers with drool-inducing descriptions of Gallic delights.

Everything I Ate In Paris Over Spring Vacation, 2011 (Not Counting the Meal I Had At Taillevent)

1. Hamburger and framboisine at Le Drugstore

I was so very jet-lagged when I arrived in Paris that I actually fell asleep riding a bateaux-mouches on the Seine. Considering that this is maybe the most beautiful ride in the history of rivers, and I am pretty sweet on a snazzy river view, this is a clear indication that I was beatdown tired like whoa.

It was fortunate for me that I was staying in a centrally located hotel called Residence Lord Byron, right off the Champs Elysees. After my nap on the world’s most romantic waterway, I had just enough energy to eat some food and then pass out. This fatigue helped me come up with a really useful travel tip, which is that you should always find a good restaurant near your hotel, so you can eat there on the first night of your trip and then crash.

When I went to Paris for the first time, when I was eleven, I remember my dad taking me to a restaurant called Le Drugstore and saying that their hamburgers were really good. I also recalled that Le Drugstore was just a few blocks from the hotel, and sure enough, even my directionally challenged self was able to find it. The restaurant has been renovated since I was a kid and now looks kind of high-tech, with glass walls that look out onto the Champs-Elysees.

My waitress was very pleasant and got me a fantastic burger, which I could not finish. She was concerned that I didn’t like it, but I explained that my stomach simply couldn’t contain any more beef at the moment. However, I did apparently have room for ice cream, because I totally was craving one of Le Drugstore’s soda fountain concoctions.

The waitress recommended the framboisine sundae, which combined a rich and delicious vanilla ice cream with raspberry sorbet. It was scrumptiously creamy but not too heavy, the perfect ending to my first meal in France. On top of this, I got to watch the sunset behind the Arc de Triomphe while I was eating, which only made my ice cream more delicious.

2. Breakfast at Residence Lord Byron

Almost every morning I was in France, I ate breakfast at my hotel. The typical French hotel breakfast spread seems to involve a selection of fruit, boiled eggs, bread, pastries, yogurt and juice. This will usually run you about 10 euros. This is reasonable, considering the buffet is all you can eat, but it feels a little pricey to me, because I always wanted to eat a light breakfast and conserve my travel calories for later in the day.

This morning I had some yogurt, fruit, a boiled egg, and coffee at the hotel. It was perfectly adequate, but I think I prefer the Japanese hotel breakfast. I blame myself more than the hotel, since I probably should have gone for the baked goods if I had wanted a really delicious French hotel breakfast.

3. Salmon and apple tart at the Musee D’Orsay

I spent Sunday morning at the Musee D’Orsay and had lunch at the fancy pants restaurant on the top floor. Now, most restaurants in France want you to order an appetizer, main course, and dessert. This menu is called the prix fixe. However, a lot of restaurants, especially at lunch, give you the option of sticking to either an appetizer and main course or a main course and dessert.

Three guesses which option I picked and the first two don’t count. I would never pick an appetizer over dessert. I ordered the salmon special of the day, which was merely a simply prepared piece of mouthwateringly pink fish, and a slice of apple tart. There are many different kinds of French apple tart, this was the more upscale version on a light pastry crust with a little almond paste spread in between the crust and the thinly sliced apples. So good, it could make me not regret ordering a chocolate dessert.

Sitting next to me at the restaurant was That American Couple. You know, the kind that doesn’t speak any French and won’t eat fish, even a perfectly innocuous fish like salmon. I sat there judging them silently like a pretentious snotface, even though they seemed like nice people and weren’t rude to the waiter or anything. But part of the pleasure of being a traveling American is getting to look down on other traveling Americans who aren’t as sophisticated as you are.

4. Soupe a l’oignon, poulet frites and crème caramel at La Cremaillaire 1900

I spent the afternoon in Montmartre and ate dinner at a restaurant in the Place du Tertre that was recommended by my guidebook. I ate a very typical three course bistro meal of onion soup, chicken with thin fries, and custard. The food was just decent but considering the low, low price of the meal (under 20 euros for all three courses), it was much better than a comparable French restaurant back in NYC.

Also, the décor was lovely and reminded me of what a restaurant designed by someone who made the old Paris metro signs might look like. Be warned—though the waiters are not the rudest waiters I’ve ever encountered in France, they’re not the friendliest either. You’re going to have to be proactive in getting their attention.

5. Sidecar and crazy bar nuts at Harry’s

I made my one stop on the Great Paris Hemingway Trail later that night by stopping at one of his old stomping grounds, Harry’s New York Bar. As this was a weeknight, this place was not actually filled with tourists, but rather middle aged Frenchmen who seemed to be discussing their day at work and their wives. They seemed kind of emasculated and sad—I think Hemingway would have become depressed at their conversation, which involved no references to bullfighting.

I ordered a sidecar, a very citrusy cocktail with Cognac supposedly invented at Harry’s. The 9000 year old bartender seemed to take pleasure in mixing it in front of me, although he may just wanted to have shown off the fact that he could move his hands. The cocktail was refreshing and tasty, but the bar nuts were sensational. I mean, really the best bar nuts you have ever eaten. If you go to Harry’s, you must try them.

6. Coffee, bread, and pastries at Angelina

The next day, Monday, I went to the Louvre. My very favorite breakfast place in all of Paris is a few blocks away, so I made sure to leave enough time to stop by and have breakfast at the Café Angelina. It is a beautiful palace of a tea shop, kind of like the tea room at the Plaza, only Frenchier.

If you order a preset breakfast at a restaurant in France, you’re going to end up with a carbapalooza. There was nary an egg to be seen with my breakfast selections, just a gorgeous set of mini croissants and raisin bread, along with baguette and freshly squeezed grapefruit juice. I polished off every single one of those pastries, which made the pastries that you buy at the grocery store back home literally taste like cardboard.

Angelina has amazing hot chocolate but I was eating at Taillevent later that night and I didn’t want to make myself sick so I only got coffee. Sometimes traveling is about making the tough choices.

7. Cassoulet and tarte tatin at Allard

I spent the afternoon at St. Chapelle and Notre Dame, so I stopped for lunch at a little bistro on the left bank called Allard. This place serves really tasty food that’s more like what you would find prepared by Gigi’s grandmother rather than haute cuisine. I had a smoky dish of sausage stuffed cassoulet (UMMMM) and a slice of my second apple tart of the trip, this time a rustic tarte tatin with perfectly caramelized caramel.

You guys, I’m starting to make myself hungry again. Why did I ever leave Paris? I’m starting to forget.

8. Vegetable soup and beef bourgignon at Le Potager du Roy

Remember how I said I would never pass up dessert for appetizer? Well, I lied. I went to Versailles the day after going to Taillevent and I was so stuffed up that the thought of dessert made me ill. In fact, I probably wouldn’t have wanted to eat lunch at all, but I had already made a reservation at a nice restaurant in the town of Versailles called Le Potager du Roy.

The maître d was kind of snotty to me—I think he didn’t like my magenta top. Well, joke’s on him because I bet Louis XIV would totally have dug my flashy threads. The waitress, however, was extremely polite.

I kept it relatively simple with a bowl of perfectly prepared vegetable soup and a hot and soothing dish of boeuf bourguignon. One thing I regret about the trip to France is not drinking more alcohol. I only drank wine with the dinner I had at Taillevent and just stuck to water the other times. Next time I’m going to Paris, I am forcing myself to have wine with every meal. I’ll just have to suck it up and deal.

9. Coffee at La Coupole

I could not eat a bite that evening, still stuffed as I was from the Taillevent dinner that night before. I decided to stop and get a cup of coffee at the famous café La Coupole on Boulevard Montparnasse. The hostess was very nice to me when I told her I just wanted coffee and sat me at a window seat so that I could engage in some excellent Blvd. Montparnasse people watching, while simultaneously reading some articles on Chaucer for graduate school.

I felt like a terribly chic grad student at the Sorbonne, even though La Coupole itself has no atmosphere and in fact, looks like a high school cafeteria. Montparnasse itself, however, has lots of atmosphere and anyone who complains about the experience of sipping coffee in a French café while watching the Parisians stroll by is an idiot with no soul.

10. Coffee, bread, and juice at Café Le Depart St. Michel

My last morning in Paris, I spent exploring the Left Bank and my favorite museum, the Musee de Cluny. I was still full from my Taillevent dinner, but I did want to soak up some of that Left Bank atmosphere, so I had a baguette, coffee, and orange juice at a café on the Place St. Michel. Was it kind of touristy, with English menus? Yes, although there were French people there too. Did I care?

Are you joking? Was I even slightly upset about eating breakfast at a bit of a tourist trap on the Place St. Michel? The view alone was worth the price of admission (and the breakfast was cheaper than my hotel buffet). That’s the beautiful thing about Paris, no matter what goes wrong, you still get to be in Paris, which is reward enough for anything.

In Which I Learn That You Can Buy My Love And The Price Is A Complimentary Cognac

2011-08-21T17:50:00.000-07:00

After all the delicious food I ate in San Juan, my next destination, France, was a little bit of a culinary let-down.

Yes, I’m being sarcastic.

I had so much delicious food during my week in France that I wouldn’t know where to begin. Well, I wouldn’t know where to begin if it weren’t for one exceptional, exceptional meal at the best restaurant I have ever been to. This meal was so special that I decided to give it its own entry and then go on to describing all the other fabulous things that I ate in France.

What was this restaurant, you ask? What restaurant puts all others to shame? Well, get used to slightly delayed gratification. When I was planning my March trip to France, my Frommer’s guidebook rather forcefully instructed me to make sure I bit the bullet and ate dinner at at least one of the top restaurants in Paris. I don’t know about you, but when my guidebook starts ordering me around, I step to with a quickness.

I didn’t have to think for more than five seconds about which gastronomic palace I wanted to give the pleasure of my business. I have this great book called 1001 Places You Must See Before You Die and this book has a whole entry devoted to a Parisian restaurant called Taillevent. This restaurant is located in the 8th arrondisement and has been around since the 1940s. There was a minor scandal a few years ago when it lost its third Michelin star but I couldn’t care less about that. It still has three stars in my heart.

I made reservations for a Monday night over the internet three weeks in advance, which turned out to be plenty of time. They called me day of (while I was wandering through the Italian sculpture section of the Louvre) to confirm my reservation. I felt really fabulous having this phone call, I must say. (“Oh, the call is from Taillevent? Hold on one moment please, I’m standing next to a Michelangelo.”)

When I arrived at the restaurant, I was escorted by about three different men to my table, as if each one of them were responsible for escorting patrons through a different portion of the restaurant. I was presented with a menu, but I already knew what I wanted: the tasting menu for 190 euros. Some of you may be thinking, “How can you possibly afford this meal? Aren’t you a teacher/grad student?” The answer to this question is that I couldn’t afford the meal, so I sold my spleen on the black market. I didn’t really like my spleen much anyway.

The waiter said that the sommelier was going to come over and suggest some wines with the meal. I was a little terrified by this prospect, and the sommelier was quite young and cute and French, which made me more nervous. He told me he was just going to pick four wines to serve with the meal and I asked him to just bring two glasses. He wasn’t happy about this.

I wanted to put myself in his hands, but I was terrified that he was going to bring me wines that cost more than a month’s rent. I finally told him that I was a student and asked him to not make the wines too expensive. He was totally charming and said that he was once a student himself and he completely understood. I ended up getting four glasses of wine for 10 euros each; they were affordable because he brought me the very delicious house wines.

But enough about the wines—anyone who reads this blog regularly will know that I am much more excited about food than I am about booze. I’m now going to list the things that I ate at Taillevent because the list is about as long as everything else I ate in Paris put together. Prepare to drool.

1. BREAD.

Some diet books will tell you to avoid the bread basket, but if you even so much as try to be on a diet at Taillevent, you deserve to be guillotined. They brought around tiny individual crusty loaves of bread, as much as you wanted. I had one white and one wheat and they were so perfect they made me hate all other bread baskets.

2. Cheese puffs.

After the bread, the waiter brought by a whole bunch of amazing cheese puffs that I wish I could eat fistfuls of every day for the rest of my life. They were perfectly light and fluffy and yet intensely flavored. MMMM. At this point, I just wanted to grab the bread and cheese puffs and run away.

3. Asparagus puree with peanut foam.

This wasn’t part of the tasting menu, but was rather the special amuse bouche of the day. It was kind of funny looking at all the well-heeled customers eating a green liquid with delicate foam on top with a little spoon. I know this amuse bouche sounds odd, but it was really light and refreshing.

I don’t know if the waiters were worried about me eating all by myself, because one of them brought over a book for me about the great restaurants of the world, as a present. This is 100% incontrovertible proof that Taillevent is the best restaurant ever. I've eaten great food at other restaurants, but no other restaurant has ever given me my very favorite kind of gift that there is: the gift of reading. I wonder if I were a film fanatic, would they have given me a DVD? I suspect they might have.

4. ??? (Appetizer 1)

Malheureusement, the first course disappeared along with my little red commonplace book that I left at the interview for the job I didn’t get. I’m sure it was just as delicious as everything else. I'll just have to go back to the restaurant and take more careful notes next time.

5. Frogs legs over risotto (Appetizer 2)

This was so good. The frogs legs were teeny tiny and perfectly tender and the risotto was amazing. I feel like there are only so many ways to say delicious and I intend to find every single one while writing this blog.

6. Langoustine (aka Fish Course 1)

Langoustine is a kind of small lobster and it was both mouthwatering and scrumptious. I had never eaten langoustine before but I certainly would be eager to try it again.

7. John Dory (aka Fish Course 2)

John Dory is a really cool looking fish. Observe:

It didn’t look like this on my plate, though. It looked like a perfectly flaky piece of choice and appetizing aquatic flesh. Which is quite appropriate, as that’s precisely what it was. It was accompanied by a few delicately prepared tender vegetables.

8. Fois gras (aka Meat Course)

Why are there two fish courses and only one meat course? Not that I am complaining, I’m just curious. Perhaps it was because the fois gras was so rich that it would be impossible to eat two meat courses like it without becoming ill.

The ambrosial fois gras was just gently seared, I believe, and tasted like eating a perfectly cooked piece of fat. Again, makes sense because that’s basically what it was. This makes the fourth course in a row that consisted of something I'd never eaten before. Taillevent: expanding your horizons with each perfectly prepared dish.

9. Cheese plate (aka Cheese course)

Now, cheese I did have prior experience with. The cheese waiter (yes, there was a cheese waiter) came over with a board of cheese and told me I could choose three. I asked him to pick his favorites and he got really excited. I’m pretty sure that he was a cheese nerd. I remember that his favorite was Camembert au Calvados and it was really strong and fragrant. Eating it was like gently being punched in the face by deliciousness.

10. Pear and praline puree (aka Fruit dessert)

The sommelier came over and announced that he was giving me two half glasses of dessert wine, a white with the fruit dessert and a red with the chocolate dessert. I knew better than to try to argue with the sommelier at this point and I'm glad that I didn't because the dessert wines were positively scrumptrellescent.

The fruit dessert was a pear puree layered with a praline puree in a pretty, pretty glass. It was sweet but not too sweet and positively luscious. Pears and nuts are a delicious combination. I feel like the more I eat, the more I learn about which foods taste well together, which is actually quite useful information. For example, I now know that if someone gives you asparagus puree, you should ask them to put some peanut foam on top to bring out the flavor.

11. Chocolate cake (aka Chocolate dessert)

Decadent, delicious, delightful. The only feeling, aside from the feeling of satiety, that I had when I was done was sadness that I had finally finished the tasting menu.

12. Complimentary bonbons and Cognac

I concluded my meal with a complementary assortment of bonbons and a cup of coffee. Also, and MOST awesomely, the waiter brought over a glass of Cognac and said it was compliments of the sommelier. The sommelier waved at me and smiled and, no lie, I would totally have given him my number except after four glasses of wine and a Cognac, I’m not sure I could remember what my number was.

At the end of the evening, I was escorted out and the maître d said to me, “A bientot!” which is French for “See you soon!” You absolutely will, gentlemen of Taillevent, as soon as I can find a buyer for this extra kidney.

In Which I Do Not Expect The Spanish Inquisition

2011-08-20T12:19:00.000-07:00

Since Puerto Rico’s nickname is The Enchanted Island, I bet some of you are expecting me to say that the one word to describe Puerto Rico is “enchanting” or something. But you’d be wrong.

I would say that my trip to Puerto Rico involved a high number of surprising, yet highly enjoyable experiences. So many of the best things that happened on the trip took me totally by surprise, in a way that hasn’t happened on any of my other trips. Therefore, I would say that the word I would use to describe Puerto Rico would be serendipitous. Here is a list of the many things that happened to me in a serendipitous fashion on this trip.

1. I saw lots of cats.

Old San Juan is full of cats. There were cats everywhere. This was awesome because I love cats, but I still don’t understand why this was the case. Where did these cats come from and where do they go?

2. I attended a gala event.

The master Spanish cellist Pablo Casals founded the Puerto Rico Symphony Orchestra in the 1950s and the Casals Festival has been held to celebrate classical music in Puerto Rico every year, also since the 1950s.

As soon as I read that the festival was going to be held in February during my trip, I knew I wanted to attend. I used to play the violin as a kid and I still enjoy a good strings concert. The cello is one of those instruments that sounds like the sounds of angels when played by a pro and like a cat being murdered when played by someone inexpert.

I bought a ticket for the opening night concert, but I was totally unaware of the fact that this was a fancy gala event. I thought it would be no different from seeing a performance at Lincoln Center, but when I arrived, I saw lots of hot lights, and people dressed in glamorous ballgowns, and paparazzi taking pictures of various famous people whom I did not recognize. People were even being interviewed for television. Tragically no one tried to interview me or snap my photo because showing up on the San Juan entertainment news would have been very surprising and exciting.

The concert was amazing. The orchestra had a guest cellist named Johannes Moser who played a gorgeous Catalan folk song called “Song of the Birds”, which was one of the prettiest strings pieces I’ve ever heard. My other favorite was a Shostakovich piece, “Cello Concerto No. 1”. The concert definitely made me want to check out more classical concerts at home.

3. I got my scuba diving license.

On Monday, I had made plans to go scuba diving with an instructor from Caribe Aquatic Adventures. Here’s what I knew about scuba diving:

In fact, I knew so little about scuba diving that when Karen, the instructor, came to pick me up and asked to see my scuba diving license. I told her that I didn’t have one and she said that she’d need to train me then and it would cost a little more. I didn’t have a problem with this because her prices are really reasonable for a private scuba lesson, and how cool is it that I was going to get my license anyway?

Karen showed me the basics of breathing underwater, keeping my mask free of water, and how to dive and exit safely. She impressed on me the importance of not trying to resurface too quickly because my eardrums would explode or something and this sounded sufficiently horrifying to keep me afraid of my eardrums exploding all the time, even when I am just walking around my neighborhood.

After the lesson, we went for an hour long dive on a coral reef outside San Juan. At first, I had a problem adjusting my level in the water and as soon as Karen let go of my hand, I floated to the surface and she couldn’t find me. She told me she’d have to keep hold of my hand for the duration of the trip, but this wasn’t a problem.

The tour itself was worth forcing a New Yorker to hold a stranger’s hand for an hour. We saw all sorts of tropical fish and Karen gave me bread to feed them so the tropical fish were actually eating out of my hand like puppies. This experience alone was worth going to San Juan. I’ll always remember it and I highly recommend going scuba diving in San Juan if you get the chance.

At the end, Karen gave me some seashells from the bottom of the coral reef to take home with me and they are now part of my “travel tchotchke display”, along with my wooden owl from Takayama and some other things I have received since.

4. I had a conversation in Spanish.

This was surprising because I don’t speak Spanish. But there was a really adorable little boy sitting on the beach watching me get scuba suited up and I wanted to practice my incredibly limited Spanish skills with him. Here’s what I managed to say.

“How old are you?” (He’s seven.)

“I am studying Spanish but I don’t speak Spanish.” (This was a lie, I am not studying Spanish. So it was actually a half lie because it's true that I don't speak Spanish.)

I also told him that I am a teacher, which he seemed to enjoy. I’d say that this was all about a thousand times more exciting for me than it was for him, because he speaks Spanish every day, however he did seem really exciting by my scuba suit so I’d say we broke even in the excitement department.

5. I won twenty-five WHOLE dollars.

I mentioned this earlier, but I went into the casino at the La Concha resort on Monday night and I decided to take certain precautions against blowing all of my hard-earned teacher’s salary on the devil’s roulette wheel. So I decided in advance that I would gamble with five and only five dollars.

I limited my activities to the slot machines and I started to gamble on a machine based on The Princess and the Frog. I don’t know how this worked—it was electronic and it seemed much more complicated than a traditional model of slot machine. I would click on frogs and they would turn into princes but some of the princes were old and ugly and some of them were young and handsome and there seemed to be no correlation between having your frog turn into a handsome prince and winning money. Obviously this game was designed by a man.

Anyway, I started doing really well and soon racked up 35 dollars. I then started losing and went down to 30. I decided at this point that 25 smackeroos of profit were quite enough for me, and I walked away from the table. As I strolled out with my easily earned funny money, I saw the beady eyes of the security man bearing down upon me. I felt like Danny Ocean. That’s right, little man, stare away. The house loses this time.

6. I discovered that I can read in Spanish.

On Tuesday, I decided to spend some more time exploring the very awesome El Morro fort and I found, to my surprise, that knowing how to read French helps you learn how to read Spanish. I tested this theory by making myself read all of the Spanish signs and then muttering my awkward translation to myself like a crazy person.

A couple and their college-aged daughter were touring the forts as well and the mom was encouraging the girl to read some of the signs to them because she was studying Spanish. The girl looked embarrassed and pointed at me. “I don’t want to try in front of her, because that lady speaks Spanish,” she said. I chortled mightily to myself because nothing makes me happier than convincing people that I know more than I actually know.

7. I witnessed a violent argument about medieval history.

I went on a tour of El Morro led by a very knowledgeable park ranger. He was from Puerto Rico but had just come back from working for a couple of years at one of the national parks in Alaska. He gave the tour in both English and Spanish and was quite personable until the end of the tour when, most unexpectedly, the Spanish Inquisition broke out again.

One of the members of the tour asked the ranger where the Spanish got the idea to build a fort and the ranger said that many European countries had similar forts, like medieval castles. The tourist became adamant that the Spanish “stole” the idea from the Moors. The ranger said that this wasn’t true and that forts were so common, you couldn’t really say that one group “stole” the idea from another.

“THE SPANISH STOLE IT AND THEY DIDN’T GIVE THE MOORS CREDIT!” shouted the tourist. Now the ranger was mad. “NO THEY DIDN’T!” he bellowed. “THE MOORS HAD ALREADY BEEN EVICTED FROM SPAIN SO WE DIDN’T STEAL ANYTHING.” This time, it was personal. The ranger and the tourist seemed determined to re-live the conflict between the Spanish and the Moors and the rest of us began to back away slowly, to avoid the screaming.

I definitely achieved my goal of learning to love San Juan and the terrible time I had at the age of eight was soon a distant memory. I have a week off in February this coming year and I plan to go back and see more of Puerto Rico.

But until then, here are:

My Approximately Top Ten Favorite Things I Saw in Puerto Rico Over Presidents Days Weekend 2011

1. Most Important Lesson Of The Trip: I learned how to fall in love unexpectedly, not for a person but a place. I never thought I’d be so enamored of San Juan but I guess it’s true that love comes when you least expect it.

2. Favorite Part of San Juan: I’m so glad I stayed in Ocean Park. The beach is fantastic and the food at Pamela’s was great. I just liked the whole laidback vibe of the neighborhood in general.

3. Favorite Experience (Arts): The Pablo Casals festival. I am quite partial to the dulcet tones of the cello.

4. Favorite Experience (Nature): Scuba diving! I’d never done anything like that before and it was a once in a lifetime kind of thing. Unless I do it again, cause that'll make it at least twice in a lifetime.

5. Favorite Experience (History): Crawling over the forts and learning all about the importance of Puerto Rico to the history of the region was a really special experience.

6. Favorite Experience (Evening): Winning 25 whole dollars at the casino in Condado.

7. Favorite meal: That accidental dinner I had at Pamela’s. Definitely my favorite restaurant I went to in San Juan.

8. Favorite dessert: The tres leches cakes at the Parrot Club and El Picoteo. I refuse to pick one.

9. Favorite drink: The Parrot Passion

10. Favorite souvenir: My seashells that I got from the bottom of the coral reef.

11. Favorite thing about San Juan in general: The versatility of the place. When I look back on all the different things I saw and did there: a classical concert, a rainforest, beaches, scuba diving, historic monuments, great restaurants both fancy and rustic, and even a pretty spiffy mall. I started to suspect that I could find anything I wanted in Puerto Rico if I looked hard enough.

In Which I Am Personally Insulted To The Point Of Throwing A Drink In A Strange Man's Face

2011-08-19T15:06:00.000-07:00

The Continuing Adventures of Everything I Ate in San Juan on Presidents Day Weekend 2011

1. Arroz con pollo and Yucca Mofongo at El Jibarito

I spent Monday morning exploring the forts in Old San Juan and then went to a restaurant called El Jibarito, which my guidebook said had good comida criollla. Comida criolla is home-style cooking, and supposedly each Latin American country has its own version. In Puerto Rico, comida criolla is strongly based on rice, plantains, and a condiment called sofrito made from onions and peppers.

El Jibarito is on a side street a short distance away from the major shops and attractions in Old San Juan and it looks like a really casual lunch counter, which is exactly what it is. I engaged in my usual practice of asking the waitress what she recommends and she said that the arroz con pollo with a side of yucca mofongo was really good.

I did like the mofongo-it had more flavor than the one I had tried at Luquillo Beach and it wasn’t quite as heavy. Perhaps I simply prefer the taste of yucca. The chicken and yellow rice were good too, but not as memorable. The portion was huge and the price was tiny, which is just how home-style food should be. I left with a full belly ready to face a very exciting afternoon (more on this later).

2. Perlatini and chef’s tasting menu at Perla

That evening, I went to a restaurant called Perla, which is located inside the La Concha resort in the fashionable Condado neighborhood, right next to my neighborhood, Ocean Park. I didn’t have a reservation, but the hostess very nicely set me up by the bar and the bartender took care of me.

I had a Perlatini cocktail, which was milky white, I believe cause of coconut milk, and was quite intense and delicious. I ordered the three course tasting menu, the memory of which was mostly lost to the ages, though I do remember having some fresh and perfectly seared diver scallops for a main course. I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that the seafood in San Juan is the best seafood I have ever had, and you’re talking to a girl who goes to New Orleans once a year.

I definitely want to go back to Perla and take better notes and possibly try one of the bigger tasting menus.

3. Made up pink drink at the bar at La Concha

I also don’t know the name of the drink I consumed at the bar in the lobby of La Concha, but this isn’t because I forgot it, it is because I never knew it in the first place. After dinner, I had won twenty –five whole dollars at the La Concha casino and was determined to blow it on something stupid. I figured that an overpriced drink in the lobby of a Caribbean resort definitely counted.

I asked the bartender what his favorite drink was, but I don’t think that his answer was really an honest reply to my question. He ended up mixing me an extremely pink drink and when I asked what it was, he told me that he made it up. It was very sweet and appeared to have little alcohol, though it’s possible that there was tons of alcohol in it and I just couldn’t tell because of all the syrup.

Anyway, it’s possible that this sugary pink concoction is in fact what this bartender likes to drink in his spare time but I strongly suspect that a dude downing this concoction on a regular basis would be more likely to receive copious mockery and quite possibly an ass-kicking. A sad commentary on our times, but there it is.

I think it’s far more likely that the bartender thought I was a lightweight little girl who likes weak pink drinks, to which I say HA and FEH.

4. Sangria and potato and garlic shrimp, and patatas bravas and tres leches cake at El Picoteo

Tuesday was my last day in Puerto Rico and I spent it wandering around Old San Juan again, some more. Let’s face it, Old San Juan is pretty enough for me to enjoy spending a whole week there. I think San Juan is a perfect travel destination because, much like Japan or Rio, it offers travelers the opportunity to relax in a beautiful natural environment or fling oneself into the sights and sounds of a metropolis, depending on how the mood strikes you.

I stopped for my last meal at San Juan at El Picoteo, a tapas restaurant in the gorgeous old El Convento hotel. The waitress said that their champagne sangria was delicious. Now, it was a very hot day, so I was thinking that the combo of champagne and fruit sounded perfectly refreshing.

No. No, it wasn’t. Well, maybe it might have been, but in fact this champagne sangria also featured Bacardi, brandy, and Triple Sec and positively knocked me on my tuchus. (As a side note, why does spellcheck on Microsoft Word not recognize tuchus as a word? Clearly New Yorkers weren’t involved in the making of this product.)

Well, the champagne sangria was delicious and delightful, as were the garlic shrimp and patatas bravas. Everything had lots of garlic and flavor and was piping hot and fresh. I just LOVE tapas. I love any kind of meal made of small dishes. A lot of different small items beats big portions of one item any day of the week. But I am a Gemini, so I tend to air on the side of variety.

I topped all this off with a yummy tres leches cake. I started to wonder if there was any point in asking waiters in San Juan what their best dessert was, since the answer was always tres leches cake. But hey, if this means eating every tres leches cake in San Juan, then I’ll just have to make that sacrifice.

5. Sugar free ice cream at Ben and Jerry’s

I stumbled around Old San Juan, still high on sangria and sunshine. I tried to look at buildings, but this was difficult because the buildings wouldn’t stay still and kept slipping and sliding in front of my eyes. I needed a little more food and somewhere to sit and cool off. I was in luck because a Ben and Jerry’s was right in front of me.

There was nothing I could see that would distinguish this Ben and Jerry’s from any other Ben and Jerry’s on the mainland and ordinarily that lack of distinctiveness would disqualify a place for me. However, desperate times called for desperate measures. I ordered a small scoop of no sugar added ice cream and sat still until the walls stopped swimming and I felt ready to face the extreme heat of the afternoon sun in San Juan.

I loved just about everything I ate in San Juan and, as usual, my only regret was that I didn’t have more stomachs or livers to enable me to partake more of the various culinary delights of Puerto Rico. Join me next time when I come up with the one best word to describe San Juan and tell you about accidentally attending a gala event, getting my scuba diving license, and beating the house at the La Condada Casino.

In Which I Learn That It's Possible To Close a Whole City Because of Traffic

2011-08-18T10:08:00.000-07:00

When I was trying to decide where to go for my President’s Day 4 day weekend, I thought about going somewhere seasonally appropriate. With all respect to T.S. Eliot, I have found February in New York to be the cruelest month. It’s that time in year when it seems like it will always be winter and never Christmas and the streets are coated with a perma-gray slush.

I wanted to alleviate some of the winter’s malaise with a trip to sunnier climes. I had only been to the Caribbean once, when I was eight. My family and I went on a cruise to the Caribbean, stopping at Labadee (which is a port on the coast of Haiti), San Juan, Puerto Rico, and St. Thomas.

I did not enjoy San Juan at all. I remember that we went on a bus tour of Old Town and the forts and it was very hot and our tour guide was boring and mean. So of course, when I was picking a destination in the Caribbean, San Juan was the first place I thought of. I wanted to go back and learn to love the place.

I’m super glad that I made this decision because I really did fall in love with “La Isla Encantada” and its many delicious foods prepared in ways I had never experienced before.

Everything I Ate In San Juan For Presidents’ Day Weekend 2011

1. Breakfast at Hosteria del Mar

I stayed in a beach hotel in the quiet Ocean Park neighborhood. This place was suggested by a Time Out New York article on San Juan because it was affordable and also literally located steps away from a gorgeous beach.

Yeah, this was the view from my table at the hotel restaurant. I usually just started off the day with a little fruit salad and scrambled eggs because I wanted to reserve my calorie budget for some of the better restaurants I’d be visiting that day. The breakfast was a perfectly decent hotel breakfast, and like most non-complimentary hotel breakfasts was a little over-priced.

2. Sardines and ceviche at Pamela’s

I used my Frommer’s Day by Day guide to plan my trip to San Juan. These guides are my favorites because they give you really detailed itineraries to follow and this allows me to enjoy my twin loves of having fun and not making decisions. So I spent the morning taking Frommer’s advice and engaging in the arduous task of chilling on the beautiful Ocean Park beach and reading the sequel to Chasing Vermeer, The Wright 3. This was part of my master plan to read Blue Balliett’s books on beaches all over the world.

Hosteria del Mar is far from being the only beach hotel on Ocean Park. A little further down the beach is a hotel called Numero Uno Guesthouse and it has a great restaurant called Pamela’s.

I sometimes like to have two appetizers instead of one main course because it allows me to try more dishes for the same amount of food as an entrée. On the waiter’s suggestion, I had some perfectly cooked sardines and a passionfruit dorado ceviche, which was amazingly refreshing. It was simply, satisfying, and mostly importantly, fishy.

Also, anything is more exciting when you are eating it on this beach. I mean, really.

3. Ceviche and tostada, parrot passion, and chocolate tres leches cake at Parrot Club

I spent the day wandering around Old San Juan and stopped in at the trendy Parrot Club restaurant before I had to head to a strings concert at the Pablo Casals festival. The Parrot Club is famous for its Parrot Passion cocktail, which consists of Bacardi Limon with orange and passion fruit juice, all fritzed together and frozen. It was so incredibly yummy.

I had a different kind of ceviche at the Parrot Club, this one was made with tuna, salmon, and dorado. I think ceviche is the perfect summer food because its light and packed with protein but also incredible flavorful. I’m sure if I ate ceviche all day, I would begin to roam around the world with shining face and hair, just brimming with health and sunshine.

Sadly, an all ceviche diet might become a little dull and who really wants to be brimming with health all the time? That’s why I needed to add some greasy deliciousness to the equation. I had a tostada made with fried plantains and pork and an oregano mojo sauce. A mojo sauce is a Puerto Rican specialty made with a lot of olive oil and herbs. It was incredibly delicious and rich, so the appetizer size was perfect.

For dessert, I had the chocolate tres leches cake. Tres leches cakes are super popular in Latin America—at most Latin American restaurants I’ve been to, when I ask what their best dessert is, the waiter will say that it’s the tres leches cake. I’d never had a chocolate tres leches cake, but I can think of very few things that chocolate won’t improve and a tres leches cake certainly isn’t one of them. Sadly I had to dash to make my concert and so left some of my cake behind. I’m sorry, cake! I’ll have to come back for the rest of you later.

4. Apple pastry at Kasalta Bakery

The next day, I had an early morning tour bus departure for El Yunque Rainforest and Luquillo Beach. My bus was supposed to pick me up at a legendary local breakfast place called the Reposteria Kasalta. I decided to pick up a quick breakfast here.

I got a coffee and a pastry stuffed with apples. The pastry was fabulous and cheap. Be warned that the servers here don’t speak English, so be ready to order in Spanish. I don’t even speak Spanish and I was able to function just fine, so no worries.

5. Mofongo and coconut limber at Luquillo

We spent the morning at the gorgeous El Yunque Rainforest and then went to Luquillo Beach. I had made friends with another young woman on the tour bus named Michaela, and we decided to pick up some lunch at one of the many food stands in the beach area.

Again, most people here only speak Spanish, so just be aware going in. The language question is really tricky in Puerto Rico because it is a US territory. Some people I met really want you to speak English with them and some people only can or want to speak in Spanish. Let the person you are speaking to guide you.

I ordered a mofongo from a stand called La Roca Taina. This is a Puerto Rican specialty, a ball of fried plantains that are usually filled with some sort of meat. The mofongo was really tasty, but I made a mistake because I didn’t realize that I needed to specify that I wanted my mofongo filled with something, so all I ended up receiving a totally plain ball of fried plantains. As yummy as it was, I wasn’t able to finish the whole thing.

I was able to snag some dessert from one of the other food stands, which was just a quick store-bought coconut limber. Limbers are a famous Puerto Rican icey treat—frozen fruit juice, or in this case, coconut milk. My limber was both creamy and light, an intriguing and unusual combination.

6. Blue raspberry martini, churrasco wontons, crabmeat napoleon at Pamela’s

After the tour bus dropped me off at my hotel, I went to shower and change and then planned to meet Michaela for dinner at Old San Juan. Sadly, Old San Juan was closed because of traffic and my cab ended up getting turned away by the police. My driver told me that this happens sometimes on weekends and that often you shouldn’t even bother trying to get into Old San Juan on some Saturdays or Sundays.

I ended up asking the driver to drop me off at Pamela’s for dinner, which was hardly a loss for me. I just got to try a couple more of Pamela’s more decadent appetizers, as well as a very refreshing blue raspberry martini.

The crabmeat napoleon was tasty but the churrasco wontons were really special. The soy tamarind sauce had a unique and intense flavor that I can still remember months later. I also saw tamarind used in limbers, in fact they were so popular that the store at which I bought my limber was sold out of tamarind. I had never eaten it before, but I am glad to be familiar with it now.

Next time, join me as I find out what comida criolla is, sadly lose the memory of a delicious meal to the ages, and drunkenly stumble into a Ben and Jerry’s.

In Which I Settle An Ancient Grudge Against A Giant Teacup

2011-08-17T11:44:00.000-07:00

I haven’t been digging very deep to come up with the one perfect word to describe each of my travel destinations. Philly is weird, Minnesota is nice, the Hudson Valley is old-fashioned, and Rio is marvelous. None of these thoughts are even original to me, though I certainly believe them to all be accurate descriptions.

However, my word for Orlando does come straight from my own brain and I think I’ve hit on the most special quality of the place. Orlando is shameless. The commercialism is shameless, the people who work there are shameless, and the people who go there are shameless.

This is another one of those comments that sounds like an insult but in fact is a compliment. I mean, aside from the shameless commercialism, which is a little creepy. I mean, what’s so great about shame? Should you be ashamed of your inner child? Should you be ashamed of your ability to have a rocking good time and not care who knows it? Should you be ashamed to dress up like a giant mouse and hug a bunch of strange children? I think you should be shame-free with respect to all of those things, and that’s why I Heart Orlando.

1. Do you know who has no shame in Orlando? Gary Sinese. I know this because a video recording of Mr. Sinese and I pretended to go on a very enjoyable mission to Mars together at the Mission: SPACE ride at Epcot and even though he is a grown man with children, he appeared to feel not even slightly embarrassed at pretending to be an astronaut.

What’s that, you say? You say that he is an actor and therefore has to pretend something that he is not for a living? Well, I think my point still stands. Mr. Sinese has no shame about going on a really fun fake mission to Mars and neither do I. This was one of my favorite attractions at Epcot, not least of all because I was assigned to the job of navigator, which I find hilariously ironic since I cannot find my way out of a paper.

2. Oscar nominee Gary Sinese is not the only performer at Epcot with no shame. I saw many different ethnic entertainers but my favorites were The British Invasion and Mo’Rockin’, for totally different reasons.

The British Invasion, as you may be able to tell, is a Beatles cover band and I loved them because there is nothing more delightful than watching a bunch of baby boomers sitting on the grass, listening to fake Beatles and snapping their fingers as they reminisce about their teenage years.

Mo’Rockin’ is a band that plays in the Morocco pavilion and their music is enjoyable but what I loved most about them was the bellydancer that accompanied them. My mom was a bellydancer so I know enough about the sport of kings to know that the dancer was good and she got even better in my eyes when she invited the little girls in the audience to dance with her. Seeing the little girls so excited and unselfconscious about learning a new dance and performing was shameless in the best sense of the word.

3. So I wrote about the surprisingly good food at Akershus yesterday, but I didn’t write about why going to Akershus alone as an adult. I am totally shameless when it comes to doing things by myself. In fact, the list of activities I refuse to engage in alone has only one item on it: bowling.

Akershus came close to making that list though, because it features character dining and forced interaction with Disney princesses. I mean, I love Ariel and Aurora as much as the next girl but I didn’t really need to get my picture taken with Belle when I walked in. Apparently I didn’t have a choice because I was hustled right over to her so now I have a photo of myself, wearing a jacket and looking startled, next to a redhead in a Belle costume.

Eventually my shame subsided and I grew more comfortable chatting with the princesses who came over to my table. They soon realized that I didn’t need the whole princesses experience and dropped character a little bit to talk to me about what I was reading or my job, which I appreciated. Hey, princesses are people too.

4. I spent Sunday morning exploring the other rides at Islands of Adventure. The other rides are actually pretty good, but be warned that some of them , like the Popeye and Bluto’s Bilge Rat Barge, will get you very wet. I got soaked and thought about paying to stand in the drying machine, but then I realized that I was at an amusement park, I didn’t care who saw me, and that extra cash was reserved for Peppermint Toads. Being shameless is very liberating.

5. The best, best thing about the Wizarding World is seeing a whole bunch of adults tapping in to their love for magic and excitement, without a single drop of jadedness. People were wearing Harry Potter scarves and glasses. People were openly oohing and awing at things like moving pictures of Kenneth Branagh and Gary Oldman in the store windows, the little magic demonstration at Ollivander’s Wand shop, and the incredible attention to detail in the fake castle in which the greatest ride in amusement park history resides. Just for an example, the safety spiel is given by a moving replica of the Sorting Hat and the poem was written by J.K. Rowling herself.

Harry Potter and the Forbidden Journey is so good, it will blow your mind. I know I sound like a shill for Universal but I totally don’t care. The ride looks like it has a kind of blue screen in front of you as you go and scenes with the actors from the Harry Potter movies are shown on the screen, making it look like Harry, Ron, and Hermione are actually talking to you. Giant dementor puppets fly in front of you. It is so good, the only problem is that the ride didn’t last long enough.

I totally let any remnant of New York superiority fall by the wayside to fully enjoy this amazing experience. I rode the rides multiple times. I ate lots of sweets. I bought myself a replica of Hermione Granger’s wand and then I took it back home and pointed it at my students when they were well-behaved. It was a perfect day.

6. The Magic Kingdom has lots of different attractions and some are more adult friendly than others. No one would call the Mad Tea Party ride adult friendly. In fact, some adults might be ashamed to ride it, especially alone.

I was incapable of shame after three days in Orlando and I had a score to settle with this ride. I went on it when I was four and made some sort of mistake with my hands that made them stop the ride short without getting the full tea cup experience.

I finally got a chance to go back, ride the ride to the end, and then get off, pump my fists in the air and laugh. Was anyone watching me do this? Frankly, I don’t give a damn.

I had a great time at the Happiest Place on Earth and the only thing I plan to do differently when I go back to Orlando this Martin Luther King weekend is that I plan to spend one of the full days at the Magic Kingdom and the Monday at the Wizarding World because all around, the WWOHP has less to do.

My Approximately Top Ten Favorite Things About My Trip to Orlando Martin Luther King Weekend 2011.

1. Most Important Lesson Of The Trip: I learned to relax, have fun, and feel unashamed of my inner child.

2. Favorite Part of Orlando: Epcot is the weirdest place I’ve ever seen. It’s so artificial it comes back around to being authentic. So, Epcot.

3. Favorite Experience (Arts): HARRY POTTER RIDE! HARRY POTTER RIDE! What, it counts. I mean, it’s like a little movie and it’s based on a book. And it even has a Sorting Hat poem. Counts as art in my book.

4. Favorite Experience (Nature): Getting soaking wet in the pouring rain on Splash Mountain. OK, so Orlando’s not the place for having experiences in nature.

5. Favorite Experience (History): The creepy/fascinating animatronic Presidents at the Magic Kingdom.

6. Favorite Experience (Evening): Watching the Fireworks at Epcot.

7. Favorite meal: I actually think the food at the Liberty Tree Tavern was delicious. The New England clam chowder and Toffee Cake were especially well done and I would go here for classic American food even if I weren’t at a theme park.

8. Favorite dessert: The dessert plate at Akershus, especially the rice cream.

9. Favorite drink: Duh! Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks.

10. Favorite souvenir: My very own Hermione wand, obviously. Now I just need that invitation letter to Hogwarts and I am set.

11. Favorite thing about Orlando in general: Once again: there is no judgment in Orlando. I mean, there are plenty of people in this world who would judge you for going to Orlando, but those people aren’t in Orlando, right? So in Orlando proper you are totally free to relax and indulge random whims, like buying yourself a wand or riding the ride you never got to go on as a child and no one can say you nay. It’s like Vegas for wholesome people.

Stay tuned next time when I describe some of the delicious things that I ate in San Juan, including mofongos, limbers, ceviche, and yes, rum. Well, you don’t really eat rum, but you get my main point.

In Which I Learn That Hogwarts Is Totally Real, So Why Haven't I Gotten My Acceptance Letter Yet?

2011-08-16T08:53:00.000-07:00

As regular readers of this blog will know, I have very little shame. I have gotten lost, hungry, strange, and confused on four continents and counting. I dance like Elaine from Seinfeld and I’m not ashamed to admit it.

But there’s one thing I am embarrassed to admit and that is that I LOVE Disney. I love Disney movies, I love Disney theme parks, I once dressed as a Mouseketeer for Halloween, although I don’t still have my Mouseke-ears. (Approximately Top Five Favorite Disney movies: Sleeping Beauty, Alice in Wonderland, The Great Mouse Detective, The Little Mermaid, The Princess and the Frog, and Tangled.)

Still, I had only been down to Orlando once, and that was when I was four years old. I probably wouldn’t have made it down there this January if it weren’t for my intense desire to visit the fairly new Wizarding World of Harry Potter at Univeral Studios’ Islands of Adventure. I had three days off for Martin Luther King weekend and I thought it seemed like a perfect time to visit Orlando and avoid the crowds. Therefore, without further ado, I present:

Everything I Ate In Orlando For Martin Luther King Weekend 2011

1. Hotel Breakfast at the Point Orlando

My breakfast every morning was at my hotel, the Point Orlando. This was a perfect pleasant and convenient hotel with a decent, if somewhat small, breakfast spread. I pretty much had the same thing every morning-an egg and oatmeal. The food in Orlando, as you will read, is surprisingly delicious, so I didn’t want to overindulge in the morning.

The breakfast buffet at the Point Orlando is ten dollars, which is a reasonable price for a hotel breakfast, and exactly what I paid for the same in Japan. However, I did find myself missing the free breakfasts I had received at my hotels in Atlanta and Philadelphia. It is my general belief that all hotels should provide a delicious free breakfast to all guests. It is the only amenity I generally care about, although the Point does make up for the lack by providing free shuttle service to Disney and Universal.

2. Tacos at La Cantina de San Angel

I spent Saturday at Epcot and it took a lot of restraint to not stuff my face off because Epcot is mostly about shopping and eating. Epcot is full of these incredibly strange fake country stations, 11 in all, with food, entertainment, and shopping, and artificial monuments done in the style of the relevant nation.

I decided to grab lunch at the Mexican pavilion. Traveler be warned, because the Mexican pavilion has two restaurants, the nicer San Angel Inn and the more casual Cantina de San Angel. I had only noted the fact that the place I was looking for was called “San Angel” and ended up eating at the Cantina when I really wanted the Inn. I think the fact that both restaurants have the name San Angel is confusing and that Disney should change the names to aid the careless people, like myself, who don’t want to write down the full name of the restaurant they are looking for.

Anyway, the chicken tacos were perfectly adequate, though not spectacular. The chicken was good quality for a quick taco and the salsa was fresh, but the flavoring was a little mild for my taste. I guess you can’t go too spicy when you are Disney and catering to such a large audience.

3. Chocolate Croissant at Boulangerie Patisserie

I got dessert at the French section because Boulangerie Patisserie is supposed to be good. It certainly appeared to be super popular, judging by the long line to get in.

The croissant was indeed tasty—not Parisian quality but much better than the croissants you come by at the corner store. That sounds like I’m damning with faint praise, but I’m not. The pastry was flaky and the chocolate was rich. Also, I was pretty impressed by the fact that, like French chocolate croissants, the pastry wasn't overstuffed with chocolate.

I feel like, in general, the food at Epcot is better quality international food than you can find in many parts of America, but not as good as the real thing. That could, in fact, be Epcot’s motto: “Not The Real Thing But Better Than Nothing”.

4. Three Course Meal at Akershus with Guest Appearance By A Dessert Place

I had made reservations in advance online at a restaurant called Akershus, which was recommended by my Frommer’s guidebook. (Lonely Planet, to my knowledge does not make a guidebook to Orlando, probably because it is the least lonely place on earth.) Akershus is in the Norwegian pavilion, in a replica of a castle, and the meal involves an unlimited salad buffet, entrée, and dessert plate.

The salad buffet was a typical salad spread, with the addition of some pretty tasty herring and smoked salmon. My stepmother’s Norwegian so I am a little familiar with the cuisine and smoked fish is both authentically Norwegian and very delicious.

Most of the entrees are not really Norwegian, things like pasta and chicken that you could get anywhere. I got the only Scandinavian special on the menu, which was Kjottkake, Norwegian meatballs with mashed potatoes and lingonberry sauce. To my surprise, I liked them very much! Meat, potatoes and lingonberries are the perfect Norwegian meal in my opinion.

The dessert plate comes with three desserts for the whole table to share. I was surely in luck because I was the only person at the table and therefore all of the desserts were for me. I thought the pastry stuffed with mascarpone was a little dry and the chocolate mousse was good but not memorable. However, the rice cream was quite delicious, not too sweet and creamy. It was the only dessert I finished, mostly because I didn’t want to be a total piglet.

5. Pumpkin Juice, Every Flavor Beans, and Peppermint Toads from Honeydukes

I spent Sunday at The Wizarding World of Harry Potter and once again, had to stop myself from eating everything in sight. There are not nearly as many food options at WWOHP as there are at Epcot, but the food was even more tempting. J.K. Rowling does a great job of describing the different food and treats that the modern wizard likes to indulge in and I could hardly wait to try them for myself.

The only complaint that I had about WWOHP is that it is too small. Everything is amazing but there isn’t enough of it. There were long lines just to get into the stores. However, the replica of Honeydukes candy store was well worth the wait. The place was jam packed with every kind of candy ever mentioned in the book.

I limited myself to a bottle of pumpkin juice (with little plastic pumpkin for a top), some Every Flavor Beans, and chocolate mint Peppermint Toads. The juice was very intense and full of pumpkin spice, but refreshing, the jellybeans were just like Jelly Bellies, and the Peppermint Toads were totally delish. I love chocolate mint and could eat those candies every day.

6. Butterbeer and shepherd’s pie at Three Broomsticks

As awesome as Honeydukes was, it wasn’t close to being the only thing I wanted to eat at WWOHP. I needed to drink the famous ambrosial nectar of the wizarding gods, that sticky, sweet, intoxicating concoction known as butterbeer.

First of all, butterbeer is not alcoholic. Second of all, J.K. Rowling herself personally approved the taste of the butterbeer at WWHOP. Third of all, it is totally delish. I’ve read it described as cream soda and root beer mixed together and while I’m sure that’s not how they make it, it is pretty much what it tastes like. They serve it in a plastic beer mug--I drank every drop.

You don't need to stop at the Three Broomsticks, which is the full service restaurant at WWOHP to drink the stuff because they sell it all over the WWOHP. However, I used this butterbeer to wash down an adequate piece of shepherd’ pie—of course I am all about the authenticity, so I needed to get the English food at the restaurant in Florida that replicates food from a book about people who cast spells for a living.

I was delightfully taken aback by the cashier at Three Broomsticks, who informed me without my telling her that I was from the Tri-State area. I was fairly flummoxed by this and asked if she could tell by my accent but she said she knew from looking at my bank card.

This is all lies. You guys, they are totally training the people who work at WWOHP in occlumency (mind reading, for all you muggles out there). Just like Epcot only employs people for its pavilions who come from the appropriate country, WWOHP only employs wizards. You heard it here first.

7. Pizza and salad at Pastamore

Though WWOHP is the main attraction at the Universal Studios’ Islands of Adventure, it is not the only thing to do at the park. In fact, there are plenty of restaurants and nightlife opportunities available in the Citywalk area right outside the theme park rides. This entertainment center is a hub for all the Universal theme parks in the area.

My shuttle to the hotel didn’t arrive until nine, which is after Islands of Adventure closes, so I had to entertain myself at City Park for a little while until then. I must admit that most of the entertainment is things like the Hard Rock Café that don’t interest me much. Maybe tackiness is something I should learn a greater appreciation for but I am not there yet in my development as an adult.

I decided to stop and get a personal pizza and salad to go at a casual restaurant called Pastamore. It was pretty decent as theme park pizza goes, though I don’t think it’s going to give Grimaldi’s a run for its money. Still, I’ve had way worse on the go so don't be afraid to stop in if you need a quick bite on the way out of Universal.

8. Clam Chowder, Pilgrim’s Feast and Ooey gooey toffee cake at Liberty Tree Tavern

The Liberty Tree Tavern was the biggest shock of all to me. I went here for lunch on Monday, the day that I hit up the Magic Kingdom. It was raining Lucifers and Tramps outside and when I stopped in for lunch, I was wet, hungry, and miserable. I was definitely not expecting the food to be any good but I had a surprisingly delicious time. The chowder was creamy and full of potato and bacon. The Pilgrim’s Feast was turkey and mashed potatoes and the turkey wasn’t even a little dry.

My favorite, however, was the Ooey Gooey Toffee Cake, which was really rich and delicious. I would actually order this at a non-theme park restaurant and be very happy, that’s how good it was. It was recommended by the waiter who was incredibly helpful and told me I could stay in the restaurant until the pouring rain outside subsided.

As surprisingly satisfying as the food in Orlando turned out to be, it was not the real reason that I came. No, I came for the rides, I came for the thrills, I came to make a fool of myself. Tune in next time to read about my roller coaster addiction, laughing maniacally on the teacup ride at the Magic Kingdom, and the greatest amusement park ride in the history of the world.

In Which I Admit That I Can't Even Do The Meringue

2011-08-15T12:32:00.000-07:00

I do dearly love a good city nickname. The Big Apple, The Big Easy, The Big Ragu, I love them all. Sometimes I wonder if a city like Portland, Oregon that doesn’t have a nickname feels bad about itself, as if it doesn’t have friends. I’m going to go on a mission to give every city I go to a nickname.

Well, I don’t have to worry about Rio de Janeiro feeling like the last kid picked for dodgeball. Rio has a gorgeous nickname-“la Cidade Maravilhosa” or “the marvelous city”. Marvelous is indeed the perfect world to describe Rio. The city is so beautiful that you will often find your jaw dropping in wonder while exploring the city.

There are so many great things about Rio that I couldn’t list them all if I were here all day. I’ve narrowed it down to an:

Approximately Top Five Most Marvelous Things About Rio

1. The Views

Two of the most popular sights in Rio are two different but equally spectacular views. One is the view from the top of Corcovado with the big statue of Cristo Redentor, aka the Big Jesus. The other is from the top of Pao de Acucar (Sugar Loaf), which is shaped like a loaf of sugar.

I heard most Cariocas call the statue “the Cristo” and it’s so big that you can see it from all over Rio. You get to the top of Corcovado by riding a cog train through the Tijuca Rainforest, which is pretty exciting in and of itself. The views are spectacular, but I found myself marveling at the face of the Cristo, which is really gorgeous in its plainness. I’ve never seen a statue quite like it.

Pao de Acucar provides an equally spectacular view. You can hike up Pao de Acucar if you go with a group, but I chose to take the two cable cars up to the top instead. Unfortunately, this day was a little cloudy, so the picture quality isn’t great.

What you can see from the pictures, however, is just what an amazing location Rio has. It’s right in between the Lagoa Rodrigo and the Atlantic Ocean, and it’s also smack dab in the middle of the rainforest. I do believe it has the most beautiful natural setting of any city in the world.

2. Real Gabinete

So, there are no guidebooks to Rio that will tell you that the Real Gambinete in Centro is a must see. This building contains a small, but wondrously well-stocked library. It was built in 1837 and has books from as far back at the 16th century. Any bibliophile could spend a good amount of time just gawking at the gorgeous collection.

My picture came out blurry, probably because my hands were shaking with excitement from being around so many delicious tomes.

3. The Architecture

I loved all the different styles of architecture that I saw in Rio. Well, not all because the city has its fair share of hideous industrial buildings, but there are so many beautiful structures in a wide variety of styles. It’s as if all of the different people who made Brazil what it is left their fingerprints on the city in the form of buildings and that’s where all the gorgeous architecture comes from. Here are some of my favorites:

The Copacabana Palace Hotel-from when Rio was becoming chic in the 1920s.

The Largo do Boticario, which dates from the early 1800s and shows a lot of Portuguese influence

The Igreja Sao Francisco da Penitencia, which was built in 1726 in the baroque style and is right smack in the middle of Centro, the business district.

These are only a few examples of the marvel that is Brazilian architecture and I haven’t even seen any of the Niemeyer buildings in Rio yet. I had no idea that Brazil had produced so many wonderful works of art; the city has far more to offer than beaches and dancing.

4. The Beaches

It goes without saying that the beaches in Rio are some marvelous pieces of property. However, what I liked best about the beaches isn’t just that they were clean and well supplied with yummy treats. I truly treasured seeing women of all shapes and sizes wearing tiny bikinis and wandering around, obviously feeling comfortable with their bodies and enjoying the sand and sun. It was definitely a marvelous thing to see so many women who were liberated in the best sense of the word.

I wanted to borrow some of that confidence and energy and take it home with me, but I did the next best thing and bought a purple bikini, purple Havaianas, and a purple kanga, for the perfect matching Brazilian beach ensemble. A kanga is a lightweight piece of beautifully decorated fabric that women use as a beach towel and/or sarong. It’s the one must-get souvenir in Rio, I think. Vendors sell them on the beach and they are super cheap. Now I hope I’ll be able to put my purple ensemble together on an American beach and maybe it’ll give me a little bit of that Brazilian attitude.

5. The Dancing

It sounds like a cliché, but while certainly Rio is not full of people just dancing around all the time, like in their houses or offices, I did see far more dancing in the streets than I would back home. There was even a band playing on the train up to Corcovado and people got up and started dancing to the music. The band's name translates to "Good Samba" in English, so I feel that I lucked out because the band "Mediocre Samba" sometimes hits the cog train and I hear their music is not so hot.

On New Year’s, of course, there was lots of dancing all over the beach, which is harder than it sounds. I am a terrible dancer in the best of times, the kind of dancer who other girls are always coming up to and asking if they can help me out whenever I try to bust a move. My Brazilian friends tried to teach me how to samba in the sand and I kept kicking sand everywhere and slipping. They were very nice about it and said that “It is hard to dance on sand.” Truer words were ne’er spoken.

In Lapa, the hopping nightlife district, there are about a frillion music clubs and most of them keep their doors open. This way you can wander down Mem de Sa, stopping at the various places and listening to the different kinds of music and you never even have to pay for one drink. People were spontaneously dancing all over and having a great time, both tourists and locals alike.

It was a super fun time and I usually hate dancing. I’m like the Grinch of Dancing. But I must admit that my heart grew three sizes that Saturday night and I think that at some point in the future, I might be persuaded to dance deliberately in public. Thanks, Rio!

6. The Monkey

Ok, so I don’t want to brag, but on the train up to Corcovado, there was a monkey hanging out right outside the window. Everyone started shouting “MONKEY!” in Portuguese, so I know that this was almost as exciting for the Brazilians as it was for me. I have seen many things in New York City, like rats the size of babies or dogs dressed up like clowns, but I have never once seen a monkey chilling out by the 5th Avenue bus.

I had an amazing time in Rio and I’m planning to go back this October and see even more of the marvelous sights in the city and the rest of Brazil. Until then, please enjoy my

Approximately Top Ten Favorite Things About Rio de Janeiro New Years 2010

1 Most Important Lesson Of The Trip: I learned to never give up and never surrender when it comes to getting to your destination.

2. Favorite Part of Rio: Down at the Copa! Copacabana! It’s no longer anywhere near the chicest part of Rio but it has the best street (the Avenida Atlantica), the art deco architecture, and a great beach for people watching.

3. Favorite Experience (Arts): I loved watching everyone dancing around Mem de Sa, listening to the different music coming out of the various clubs and bars. I loved that so much of the excitement and fun in Rio didn’t cost anything. New York, are you taking a lesson from this? I hope so.

4. Favorite Experience (Nature): Taking the train up to the top of Corcovado and seeing the crazy gorgeous view AND A MONKEY.

5. Favorite Experience (History): The book lovers haven that is the Real Gabinete.
6. Favorite Experience (Evening): New Years Eve. Copacabana Beach. Two million people. That is all.

7. Bistro Tropical was my favorite restaurant, but I still pick the delicious fruit, bread, and cheese breakfasts I had every morning with my host as my favorite meal.

8. Favorite dessert: That cinnamon ice cream/egg cream nummy-ness at Zuka.

9. Favorite drink: At last! Alcohol! The caipirinha at Zaza Bistro Tropical.

10. Favorite souvenir: My multi-purpose kanga that I bought on Copacabana beach. Few things are this beautiful and this practical.

11. Favorite thing about Rio in general: I went down there for one of the biggest parties in the world but, as my host Patricia told me, no one in Rio needs an excuse to celebrate. And even better, all the celebrations I saw were free and open to all.

In Which I Let My Readers Know The Magic Secret Formula That Will Turn You Into A Victoria's Secret Model

2011-08-14T12:37:00.000-07:00

When we last left our heroine, she was busy stuffing her face.

7. Agua de coco

On New Year’s Eve, I was too excited to eat much, and I spent most of the day reading Chasing Vermeer on Copacabana Beach. You’d think being on the beach all day would mean that I wouldn’t have much access to food, aside from the opportunity to nibble on some seaweed.

However, unlike, say Jones Beach back home, Copacabana Beach is lined with many adorable kiosks selling all different kinds of food, drink, caipirinhas, ice cream, and basically anything else you might ever want to eat on a beach.

It was too early in the day for me to start drinking alcohol, but I was very enchanted by the people I saw walking down the Avenida Atlantica drinking agua de coco straight out of a cracked coconut. It just looked so chic and tropical and nonchalant. I bought one from a kiosk and strolled down the beach with it and felt very glamorous, despite the fact that I was still basically drinking sugar water from a giant furry bowling ball with an oversized straw.

8. Fejoada at Casa de Feijoada

If you are going to spend all day on the beach, especially a beach in warm, humid Rio de Janeiro, I have some very important advice for you.

PLEASE EAT SOMETHING

I wandered around Copacanbana beach all morning and then the Lagoa (Lake) Rodrigo de Freitas in the afternoon, but for some reason I refused to stop and eat anything. It was so hot that I didn’t even feel hungry, just thirsty.

At a certain point, however, I started to feel intense pain in my stomach, and then dizzy and light-headed. I didn’t understand why and I started to panic that I was too sick to stay out for the New Year’s celebration.

Then, it hit me like a bolt of fabric. Perhaps the problem was that it was 3 in the afternoon and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast? Perhaps I should sit down and eat something, even if I didn’t feel hungry? Kids, especially when it’s hot out, you should make sure to eat something on a regular basis and stay hydrated. Don’t let this happen to you.

According to my Lonely Planet, the nearest restaurant was a place called Casa da Feijoada, which is famous for serving the “Brazilian national dish”, feijoada. I was in luck, because everyone says that if you come to Brazil, you must try the feijoada. It would be like coming to New York and not getting a bagel, or going to France and not getting a croissant, or going to Cincinnati and not getting chili.

Feijoada is traditionally served on Saturdays but Casa da Feijoada is unique because it serves the meal every day. It’s possible that you are wondering what feijoada but it’s more probable that you are wondering how to pronounce feijoada. (Feh-show-ah-dah, but say it quickly.)

Feijoada is like jambalaya, only with all the components served separately. I was presented with a dish of salted meat, a dish of beans, and one of rice. On the side was a bowl of chopped up greens that I have since learned were collard greens, and a dish of light brown powdery stuff, which is a cassava flour called farofa.

The feijoada was really yummy, though salty, and I enjoy any sort of food that I have to put together by myself. It’s almost like cooking at the table! However, the feijoada is meant for two, so I did have way more food than even my famished self could handle. I left the table stuffed and un-dizzied and ready for more exploring.

9. Cupuacu sorbet at Mil Frutas

I spent the rest of the afternoon wandering around the fancy shopping area known as Ipanema and stopped at this famous sorbet shop called Mil Frutas (or 1,000 Fruits). The place was jam-packed full of people all wanting to shell out comparatively big bucks for a scoop of creamy, exotic fruit goodness.

I asked the woman behind the counter what she liked and she suggested the cupuacu flavor. Cupuacu is a kind of delicate tropical fruit that tasted a little bit like a magical pear. It was unbelievably refreshing, sweet, and healthy tasting all at the same time.

No wonder Brazilians are so notably gorgeous if they are spending all their time eating magical pears and whatnot. Maybe just a few cupuacu would turn us all into Gisele Bundchen. I’ll have to go back and eat some more sorbet to test this theory adequately.

10. Tasting menu at Zuka: egg cream with cinnamon ice cream

I slept in so late on New Year’s Day that my breakfast with Patricia was more like lunch and so I didn’t really eat again until dinner. I spent the afternoon at Pao de Acucar looking at the great views and then went to Leblon for dinner.

Leblon is apparently the new chic neighborhood in Rio. It used to be Copacabana and then Ipanema and now it’s Leblon. Now I’m sure the chic neighborhood is changing to an area I have never heard of because that’s just how fashion rolls.

I mentioned “Eat Street” in Minneapolis but Leblon has its own “Eat Street”, which is Rua Dias Ferreira. A friend of mine who is very familiar with Rio had recommended several restaurants on this street to me and I decided to go to a place called Zuka, which serves contemporary Brazilian food.

This is a chic little restaurant further down the street and the service was more attentive than at most of the restaurants in Rio. The only problem I had was that the waiter assumed that I was waiting for a man, and I had to assure him several times that I would be dining alone. I’ll never really get why people find a woman dining alone to be surprising. Do I need to have a man with me in order to think that delicious food is delicious? However, he wasn’t even slightly rude about it, so I was more amused than bothered.

I ordered the tasting menu, which is pretty much my policy at every restaurant that has a testing menu. You get to try more dishes that way and more is always better. Once again, the loss of my commonplace book pains me because I totally wrote down everything I ate at Zuka, but now I remember almost none of it. I do recall tuna and risotto being involved but not at the same time and there was a piece of meat served with some sliced root vegetables in a horseradish sauce, which I particularly enjoyed.

However, the most memorable dish was the dessert, which is going to sound disgusting but was in fact completely amazing. This was a scoop of cinnamon ice cream in a martini glass on top of a really rich egg yolk sauce. It was like a sweet hollandaise; I’ve never had anything like it. It was just a big ball of creamy richness. It’s funny because this couldn’t have been more different from the light and flavorful cupuacu sorbet but they were both equally delicious.

11. Caipirinha at Lapa

That night I went up to Lapa, which is notable for its swinging nightlife scene. I came for the samba but I stayed for the caipirnhas. Like Copacabana Beach, the main drag in Lapa, which is called Mem de Sa, is lined with kiosks serving Brazilian snacks and cocktails.

Ordinarily I do not consider drinking cocktails sold by street vendors out of plastic cups to be classy, but here in Lapa it seemed like the right thing to do and let it never be said that I won’t give local customs a shot. Unless that local custom involves eating someone. As a general rule, I don’t eat people.

I got another caipirinha from one of the vendors and it was much sweeter than the one I had at Zaza Bistro Tropical, and therefore not as tasty. It was still pretty good though, and certainly much better than I would expect a 3 dollar cocktail to be.

12. Cheese pastels at Jasmim Manga

My last day in Rio, I spent wandering around my neighborhood of Santa Teresa. This was a Sunday and Santa Teresa was stuffed to the gills with tourists. After having spent all of four nights in Santa Teresa, I felt sneeringly superior to these tourists. Of course, I was soon punished for the sin of pride. I wanted to get lunch at one of the great local restaurants, so I got quite lost searching for a famous place called Aprazivel.

Aprazivel is located up a twisting, winding path and is apparently even hard for Carioca cab drivers to find. I should have known better than to try given that I only had three hours before I had to head back to Patricia's and take a cab to the airport. Of course, after getting lost and wasting a good portion of my last day trying to find the place, I found that it was totally packed and I was never going to get a table.

I learned a valuable lesson from this, which is that if you are going to try an out of the way restaurant, make sure you have a reservation first. I hurried back down the path and got in line for a café called Jasmim Manga.

I waited forty five minutes for a table and then waited forty five minutes for my light lunch of cheese pastels—little savory pastries filled with cheesy goodness.

The pastels were really good but I did feel that the wait was excessive. I’m inclined to cut the café some slack because they were so crowded, but I did come very close to missing my cab to the airport and I burned my mouth gulping down the piping hot cheese.

The long wait aside, Jasmim Manga is a very cute place, located right on a charming square called the Largo dos Guimaraes, and I would definitely like to go back there on a less busy day.

There is so much more to Brazilian food than what I was able to discover on this short trip and I loved my introduction to a new cuisine. What’s better than learning about new kinds of delicious food to love? I can think of very little.

Next time: I explain why Rio is called La Cidade Maravilhosa and I learn why it’s necessary for every traveler to set aside money for transportation.

In Which I Finally Start Drinking Seriously

2011-08-13T08:00:00.000-07:00

Some places you go to almost entirely for the food. New Orleans is the first place I think of as a foodie destination, but there’s also Naples, Paris, Wessex, etc. Since eating is my third favorite thing to do after traveling and reading, the quality of the local cuisine plays a big role in where I choose to travel to.

Now, I obviously didn’t go to Brazil because of the food; I went for the party. Still, just because the purpose of the trip wasn't to eat my way through Rio doesn’t mean that there isn't lots of fantastic food in Brazil. I tended to have nibbles and drinks more than large meals, but I really enjoyed the small taste I got of Cariocan cuisine and can’t wait to learn more about it the next time I am in Brazil.

But for now, please enjoy reading about the limited amount of Brazilian cuisine that I was able to experience.

Everything I Ate While In Rio For New Year’s 2010.

1. Coffee, bread and butter at Cafeina

I got in to Rio the morning of the 29th and met the driver that my bed and breakfast had sent over to meet me at the airport. I met my host Patricia, dropped my stuff off, and rushed out to sightsee. I wanted to make up for as much lost time as possible.

I took a cab down to Copacabana and had it drop me off right in front of Cafeina, a cute little coffee shop near the beach. Brazil is famous for its coffee, which makes sense given that Brazil is one of the biggest coffee producing countries in the world. The coffee shops, like many things in Rio, feel half South American and half French. So you can get some baguette and jam with your coffee, but the fruit in the jam will be tropical. Or, you can get some delicious fried cod balls with your coffee instead.

I opted for the baguette with cheese and jam. The cheese was very soft and creamy, and I learned from Patricia that it’s called catupiry. It’s very delicious and has a uniquely mild flavor. I recommend picking some up if you can.

2. Tomato salad at Via Sete

I spent the afternoon walking around Copacabana and Ipanema and got lots of great shopping done. I felt tired after all the crazy traveling that I had been doing and just wanted to grab a quick bit. I used my Lonely Planet walking tour of Ipanema to point the way to a little restaurant called Via Sete on the Rua Garcia D’Avila.

I got a tomato and mozzarella salad because it was too hot and I was too tired to eat anything heavy. The tomatoes were delicious but the salad had a little more dressing than I am used to on a salad caprese. Still, the food was largely irrelevant because the real reason to go to the restaurant is to sit outside and indulge in some truly excellent people watching.

3. Breakfast with Patricia

Every breakfast in Rio was the same—a gourmet feast prepared by Patricia. I mean, maybe it wasn’t literally that way but it seemed like it to me. Every morning I had great coffee, sliced tropical fruit, bread, and a mild cheese—not the catupiry but something a little harder.

The fruit was usually mamao, which Patricia said was one of the different kinds of papaya. I can’t imagine having access to multiple papayas. I didn’t even know that there were different kinds of papaya. I wonder if Brazilians argue about their favorite kind of papaya the way Northeasterners argue about their favorite kind of apples. (Pink Lady, all the way!)

4. Tea service at Confeiteria Colombo

I spent that day in Centro, walking around and seeing the historic buildings, and didn’t have a meal until later in the day. I stopped at a classic café called Confeiteria Colombo. The main part of this restaurant looks like something out of Belle Epoque Paris, but it was jam-packed so I took a seat in the smaller, plainer part of the restaurant next door.

I ordered something called the Virginia Lane tea, which came with coffee, bread, butter, and jam, the aforementioned yummy fried codballs, and pastries. I’ve mentioned before that tea is my favorite meal of the day and I’ve had English tea, Japanese tea, and French tea, but this was the first time I’d ever had Brazilian tea. I vowed that it wouldn’t be the last. In fact, I may start a movement to bring a Brazilian tea service to NYC. I think New Yorkers are ready to fall in love with fried cod balls.

As good as the restaurant was, service was slow and you need to be a little aggressive with your server in Rio. That doesn’t mean that you should be rude, but definitely don’t be afraid to flag a server down and politely ask for a menu (o cardapio) or the check (a conta).

5. Antarctica at Arco do Teles

After this meal, I wandered further into Centro and turned into the historic Arco do Teles. This area is a secret passageway that you can only reach by running into a wall in Centro at maximum speed.

Really, don’t do that. The Arco do Teles is reachable under an archway off of the Praca XV and it only looks like a secret passageway. On weekday evenings, the streets are lined with tables and chairs put out by the many restaurants located in the Arco. These restaurants are more like pubs, serving cold beer and bar food, but in Brazil they are called botequims.

I stopped at one of these nameless botequims and ordered a beer. The waiter brought me the largest, coldest, palest beer I have ever had. Brazilians drink their beer very light because it’s so hot there. The brand the waiter brought me was called Antarctica, which I was later told by my Brazilian friends is only the third best Brazilian beer. I found it to be plenty refreshing, although I am now curious to try Skol and Brahma now, since they are supposedly so much better.

6. Caipirinha, Pork ribs, nutella mille feuille at Zaza Bistro Tropical

That evening, I went back down to Ipanema to dine at a restaurant called Zaza Bistro Tropical. This is a gorgeous place, with an old school tropical décor, like at some 19th century millionaires beach house. I was told that there was a 40 minute wait for a table but I could get seated right away if I would sit at the bar. This is one of the reasons I love traveling alone; it makes it easier to find a seat.

I ordered my first caipirinha, which is the big cocktail in Brazil. It’s made with a sugar cane liquor called cachaca, sugar, and lime. I really liked the one I had at Zaza because it wasn’t too sweet.

I always like to ask what the waiter recommends but sadly I don’t speak Portuguese so it was hard for me to communicate. I tried to figure out how to say “What’s the best thing?” in Portuguese by looking it up in a phrasebook. The closest thing I could come up with was “O que e melhor?” I have no idea if this was correct, but it seemed to get my point across.

The waiter suggested the pork ribs for dinner and the Nutella mille feuille for dessert. The pork ribs melted in my mouth in a most delicious way and paired perfectly with the accompanying wild rice. The sauce kind of reminded me of a sweet Georgia barbecue sauce, only more heavily spiced. But I guess for a semi-Southern girl like myself, any pork ribs are going to make me think of Georgia barbecue.

I was sold on the dessert the moment that I heard the words “Nutella mille feuille”. The pastry layers were paper thin, almost non-existent. The star flavor was the Nutella and as anyone who has ever eaten Nutella knows, it tastes like the creamy ambrosial nectar of the gods.

As my stay in Rio lasted longer than my previous trips, I don’t think I can fit everything I ate into one entry. Stay tuned next time for the exciting conclusion of Everything I Ate While In Rio For New Year’s 2010. I don't want to spoil the ending, but it involves egg yolks, a meal for two that I was forced to eat by myself, and buying alcohol from a street vendor.

In Which I Come Close To Sacrificing Myself To The Goddess Iemanja Out Of The Sheer Spirit Of Adventure

2011-08-12T12:24:00.000-07:00

I’m going to cut to the chase today and tell the Big Story of my trip to Brazil-the New Year’s Party. I feel this story deserves its own entry.

Attending one of the world’s biggest parties requires some preparation. I was glad that I had some very useful help. I used the network Cama e Café, which helps set tourists up with a room in the house of a Brazilian professional in the neighborhood of Santa Teresa. I was able to request that I stay with a woman and they gave me several choices in different price ranges, which made the whole thing efficient to book.

I chose to stay with a woman named Patricia, who has a lovely house with a big, adorable dog. When I told her I was coming for New Year’s, she gave me some tips on how to get down to Copacabana Beach. She said that the party is so popular, officials in Rio sell timed tickets for the subway so that the trains don’t get too crowded so if I wanted to go down to Copacabana that afternoon, I should buy my ticket in advance.

I decided that it would be easier to go down early in the morning and just spend the day at Copacabana and not have to bother waiting in line to buy a stupid subway ticket. I hate lines.

Patricia also warned me that I wouldn’t be able to get back to Santa Teresa until 6 AM the next day because traffic would be too bad and it would be impossible to get a cab back up to Santa Teresa. As much as I loved Cama e Café, I don’t think I would be able to stay in Santa Teresa again because it is on a hill, a good distance for the popular tourist areas like Ipanema and Copa, and it would be better to stay somewhere centrally located.

Anyway, my plan to get down to Copa before the crowds did worked like a freaking charm, if I do say so myself. I spent a wonderful day lounging on Copacabana Beach, drinking coconut water, walking around the gorgeous Roderigo de Freitas Lagoa, and eating feijoada and cupuacu sorbet, and I’m promise to explain what those words mean at the appropriate time.

At 6 PM, I decided that it was time for me to pick a spot on the beach and wait for something to happen. I don’t know exactly what I thought was going to happen. I didn’t know anyone in Rio. Patricia wasn’t coming to the party. I didn’t have any refreshments with me. All I had was a copy of a young adult art mystery called Chasing Vermeer (so good!), a beach towel, and a white dress.

A white dress doesn’t sound like a very practical thing to wear on a beach, does it? Also, this was in December, which is definitely after Labor Day, so it’s not even proper. However, it is traditional in Rio to wear white on New Year’s on honor of Iemanja. Iemanja is a mother goddess brought over to Brazil by enslaved Africans and she is still honored there, especially in the Bahia region, which is still greatly influenced by African culture.

I don’t know much about this goddess, except that she likes the color white, water, flowers, and hopping. I know she likes flowers because people put the colorful blooms out on the water as an offering to her. I saw lots of stores in Rio full of flowers for people to bring to the celebration. Flower markets are sadly not something you see much of in New York in December.

I’m guessing that she likes hopping because I was told that when New Year’s comes around, in addition to wearing white, you are supposed to run in the ocean and hop seven times for luck. I don’t know why, but it’s no sillier than many other luck rituals and a girl who always throws salt over her shoulder when she spills salt has no business judging.

Well, I had my white and I was ready to hop, but other than that, I was clueless. However, I wasn’t worried. I was sure fun would find me, and there was plenty to see on the beach. There were big speakers set up all over the beach playing canned music in the afternoon (including Mr. Manilow’s Copacabana) and live music in the evening. There were elaborate sandcastles being constructed all along the coastline.

Most importantly, there were loads of people from all over the world getting drunk off of caipirinhas. When I say loads, I mean a seething mass of humanity. I mean more people than I have ever seen in one place and I live in New York. Place was crowded, is what I am saying.

One group of very boisterous young people was sitting next to me, loudly singing a song about Santa Teresa in Portuguese and generally appearing to be having a fabulous time. I felt a little bit lonely watching them. I was happy to be in Brazil on my own, enjoying the New Year, but I still kind of wished that I had someone to share that gorgeous beach with. Still, I was sure that if I waited, something would happen.

As happens about 40 percent of the time, I was totally right. As the sun set, one of the guys from the loudly singing group walked over to me and started rapidly speaking in Portuguese. I said “nao falo portugues” and he started speaking in English instead. He said that his name was Luis and he was there with his girlfriend and their friends and he invited me to come join their party.

All of my instincts about fun lurking around the corner, like my instinct to get to Copa early that morning, AND my instinct to come to Rio in the first place, paid off gloriously. Luis’s girlfriend Lia was awesome. She had done study abroad in Nebraska, of all places, and her English was great. She kept insisting that she LOVED American. She had an American flag tattooed on her ankle. She tried to get me to sing the Star Spangled Banner with her really loudly, which the rest of her friends seemed to think was pretty embarrassing, but I totally enjoyed.

There were six other young people, aside from Luis and Lia, most of whom spoke English really well. They told me they were from a Brazilian city called Belo Horizonte in the Minas Gerais region. All of them were paired off in couples except for a young woman named Rubia and a guy named “En-hee-kay”. It took me half the evening to realize that his name was Enrique—in Portuguese r’s are pronounced like h’s. Rubia spoke excellent English because she had studied abroad for a semester in Brighton.

Everyone warned me that Enrique was crazy, even though he had short blond hair, wore khakis, and in general looked more like a semi-cute accountant than some sort of mad, passionate Brazilian. He kept trying to get me to take my white dress off and just wear my bikini—this was more inept than offensive and I kind of enjoyed his awkwardly drunk attempts to get the attention of every single girl in the nearby area, up to and including doing the samba with a little old lady in a nearby group. He told us he was going home with her later, and I’m only fifty percent sure he was kidding.

The Brazilians taught me how to speak a little Portuguese; now I know that “nos amiga Americana” means “our American friend”. They gave me a cheese sandwich, vodka with grapefruit juice, and some Red Bull, which helped me stay awake like whoa. They tried to teach me how to samba on the sand, which is harder than it looks. Finally, the witching hour rolled around and we all counted down to one in Portuguese: “dez, nove, oito, sete, seis, cinco, quatro, tres, dois, um! FELIZ ANO NOVO!”

The fireworks exploded at that instant, all over the beach and they just went on and on and on for thirty minutes. I felt overwhelmed by all that beauty. As I watched them sparkle and shine above the Atlantic Ocean, I felt totally refreshed and renewed. Later, Rubia, Enrique and I ran down and hopped in the water for Iemanja. The Brazilians told me that they were all Catholic and didn’t believe in Iemanja, but that it’s still something people do for luck. As I gleefully hopped in the water in my white dress, I made a wish for the coming year, that 2011 would be full of love and adventure. It sure has been so far.

We stayed out partying on the beach until 4 AM and then it started to rain and my new friends decided that they wanted to head back. The streets were so crowded and there was nary a cab to be seen—I definitely recommend either staying in a hotel in Copa or sleeping on the beach if you want to come to Rio for New Year’s.

Well, either stay in Copa or hook yourself off with some awesome friends from Minas Gerais, because my new compatriots wouldn’t rest until they found me a cab back to Santa Teresa. We all hugged and kissed on the cheek as we said goodbye and I think I promised all of them that they could stay with me if they came to New York for New Year’s. I don’t know if I can fit eight Brazilians in my one bedroom, but I will sure try.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt prouder of myself for taking a risk. I was pretty scared to come to a country where I didn’t speak the language all by myself and I was scared to go out for New Year’s alone and I ended up having the best New Year’s of my life. It’s a cliché but it’s a cliché for a reason: most of life is just about showing up. I vowed that from now on, I will spent every New Year at a place I’ve never been before. I never want to forget that feeling of excitement that I had that night watching the sky explode on Copacabana Beach with “meus amigos brasileiros”.

In Which I Literally Enter The Ninth Circle Of Hell But Manage To Claw My Way Out Through The Power Of Madness

2011-08-11T12:37:00.000-07:00

Regular readers of this blog will know that I am usually very determined to enjoy myself no matter where I am. I don’t believe in bad travel destinations and I think the traveler’s attitude matters much more than anything else.

Having said that, for my New Year’s trip this past year, I did manage to find myself in a destination that I believe no one could love. In fact, I would go so far as to say this is the Worst Place To Be In The United States And Quite Possibly The World. This abject pit of despair is none other than the Greyhound bus station in Richmond, Virginia, and when I found myself here at 2 in the morning, all of the positive thinking in the world couldn’t have made me like the place even a tiny smidge.

Now, you might be wondering how I managed to find myself at this blighted establishment? Surely I had not deliberately booked an all-expenses paid vacation to the Greyhound bus station in Richmond, Virginia? Well, allow me to explain.

I was not supposed to be at this festering sore of a waystation, I was supposed to be sunning myself on Copacabana beach. I was looking for awesome places to spend New Year’s and according to all accounts, Rio de Janeiro is one of the best locales from which to ring out the old year and ring in the new. They have a giant celebration on Copacabana Beach called Reveillion, which is attended by 2 MILLION people. This year, I was gonna be one of those two million.

Some of you may remember that this year, the East Coast was hit with a freak early blizzard this December 26th. Of course, I was supposed to fly to Atlanta that afternoon and transfer to a flight to Rio de Janeiro. I was so unbelievably pumped, I can’t tell you.

12/26/2010 9:30 AM

Of course, that morning I got an email from Delta letting me know that the flight had been canceled. The lines from all airlines were so tied up that there was no way I could get through to an actual human being, but I was able to try to rebook my flight through the website.

The answer that the website genie came up with was not entirely satisfactory. They were able to book me on another flight from Atlanta to Rio on the 28th of December but the problem was that it was going to be almost impossible to get me to Atlanta. There was a flight from Philly on the 28th that they could put me on, but if it arrived on time it would give me only an hour to make my flight. Given that the delays out of Philly were on average around two hours because of the blizzard, this did not seem like a wise plan.

I was already super bummed about losing two days from my Rio trip and I wasn’t about to lose any more time. I needed to figure out some way to get to Atlanta. If I could just get to Atlanta in time to make my 10 PM flight to Rio, everything would be ok.

12/27/2010 3:00 PM

Then, it hit me like an anvil to the head. Planes were grounded, Amtrak was all booked up, but what about buses? I checked the greyhound bus schedule and saw that if I left NYC at 5:30 PM on the 27th the bus would arrive in Atlanta by 1:30 PM on the 28th. Even if the bus were delayed several hours, I would still get there on time.

Oh, how innocent I was back then. I look back at the eager girl checking the Greyhound bus schedule with a tear in my eye and a wistful song in my heart. Full of enthusiasm, I packed my bag, bought my ticket online, and booked it down to Penn Station.

12/27/2010, 4:30 PM

At this point in Blizzard Watch 2010, Penn Station reminded me of the area around the River Styx, where poor lost souls who can’t afford to pay Charon to ferry them across to the other side wander around pointlessly for all eternity. I mean, it reminded me of the myth, I’ve never seen the River Styx in person.

Lucky for me, I had bought my ticket in advance, so I just had to wait in a fairly short line and pick it up. I felt a twinge of pity for those who were left behind, but I couldn’t waste too much time thinking about them. I was on a mission, and when you’re on a mission, sometimes you have to leave a man or two behind.

12/27/2010 5:30 PM

My bus left on time for Washington DC. At DC, I was supposed to change to the bus to Atlanta. This bus would be making stops in Richmond, Raleigh, Charlotte, Greenville, SC and Atlanta. This on-time departure was the first of exactly two times that anything would go right on this bus trip.

12/28/2010 12 AM

We arrived in DC late because of snow-related traffic and there was a long line for the next bus to Atlanta. The way Greyhound works, you don’t get a reserved seat on your bus. You just have to wait at the station and hope that you get a seat on the next bus that will take you to your destination. If there are too many people ahead of you, you have to keep waiting on line for the next bus.

I was really worried that I would miss my bus because so many people were ahead of me, but fortunately there ended up being plenty of room and I was placed on the bus to Atlanta along with a very energetic bus driver, who explained our route and pointed out some of the monuments in DC as we were heading out on the road. This was the very last time anything went right on this bus trip.

I read on the short trip to Richmond because I was way too wired to sleep. I wasn’t worried though. In fact, I was sure I was safe because I was on the bus to Atlanta. All I had to do was sit tight and relax and look forward to my arrival.

12/28/2010 2 AM

I was gobsmackingly, flabbergastingly wrong. We arrived in Richmond and our driver told us to get out and grab some coffee while we refueled and that when the bus was ready, we would hear an announcement letting us know.

This station is so, so, so ugly. It is just a rectangle of smelly industrial concrete, illuminated by the very, very worst in fluorescent lighting, and filled with sad, miserable, lonely, grumpy, sleepy, sneezy people. All of us were waiting to hear our buses called while simultaneously trying to avoid passing out from exhaustion. Well, I stood near a little old lady from my bus and waited. We waited and waited. I started to pinch my arm so that I wouldn’t fall asleep on said little old lady’s shoulder. We waited some more.

Finally, our bus number was called and I began to rejoice inside at the thought of finally getting to Atlanta. This rejoice-ment was premature, as the only reason our bus number was called was so we could WAIT IN LINE to hear the driver tell us that our bus had been canceled. No reason was given. Our bus was simply no more. I was at the Greyhound bus station in Richmond, VA (read: Hell) and there was no way out.

I lucked out slightly (and I’m using luck here in a relative way) because another driver heard me freaking out about having no way to get to Atlanta and told me he could take me on his bus, which was going to Raleigh.

My exhausted brain began to fritz out a plan. Delta has many flights out of the Raleigh airport and they still owed me a flight to Atlanta. I figured that if I took the bus to Raleigh, got out and took a cab to the airport, and threw myself on the mercy of the Delta attendants, I could get a flight to Atlanta by 12/28/2010 at 10 PM. At this point, I would have done anything up to and including hijacking a bus and driving it to Atlanta myself and I don’t even know how to drive.

12/28/2010 6 AM. That’s right, AM

We arrived in Raleigh on time. At this point, I had managed to sleep for maybe one hour total that evening but I was all high on adrenaline and madness, so I don’t think I noticed. The woman sitting next to me told me that she desperately needed to catch a flight at the Raleigh airport so we agreed to share a cab.

The cabbie was really chatty and he and my cab-riding partner shared a lot of stories about their spouses, the moral of which seemed to be that marriage is rough, yo. Here’s what was going on in my brain at the time: “Vrrrr…mmmm….ahahahahahaha…..krrrrrrsshh”. In other words, not much but vague twitches of insanity. I was thisclose to snapping. I could feel it. All depended on how the Delta agent at the Raleigh airport would respond to my pleas.

12/28/2010 7:00 AM

At the airport, I waited on line for the customer service people. There was a woman working for Delta coming around and asking us about our problems, to make sure that we were in the right line. I started to squeak out my problem and she stopped me to tell me she wasn’t sure there’d be any room on any of the flights to Atlanta. Then I reached down her throat, ripped out her heart and showed it to her before she died.

No, I didn’t do that, but I know I looked at her as if I wanted to, so she quickly moved on to the next person. I was pretty frantic by the time I reached the real customer service woman so when she asked me what was wrong, here was what I said:

“I NEED TO GET TO ATLANTA SO I CAN GET TO RIO AND I HAVE BEEN TRAVELING BY GREYHOUND SINCE 5:3O YESTERDAY AND THEN THEY CANCELED MY BUS AND I STILL HAVE A TICKET FROM PHILLY TO ATLANTA THAT I HAVEN’T USED SO CAN YOU GET ME FROM HERE TO ATLANTA BY 12/28/2010 10 PM PLEASEPLEASEPLEASEPLEASE?”

Her eyes opened wide and she said, “You are a very resourceful young woman. We’re going to get you to Atlanta.” And she did. Even when I think about her now, I remember her as being the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She put me on standby for flights to Atlanta. One leaves Raleigh every 90 minutes, so they were going to get me out of there eventually.

12/28/2010, 8:30 AM

I got on a flight to Atlanta! It was a frabjous day.

12/28/2010, 10 AM

I arrived in Atlanta and realized that I was incredibly smelly and greasy, having “slept” in my clothes. I had cleverly planned ahead for this occasion by arranging for all of my dad’s relatives to live in Atlanta, just so I could contact them under these circumstances. I called my dad’s brother and he very kindly came to pick me up at the airport and let me go back to his house and shower and nap and feed my face. I strongly suspected that things were looking up.

12/28/2010 7:30 PM

My uncle and his wife dropped me at the airport. Thanks so much for taking care of me! I have always depended on the kindness of uncles.
12/28/2010 10 PM

Our flight finally set off for Rio. A cute American guy sitting nearby with his girlfriend came up to me and asked, “Falo ingles?” This means, “Do you speak English?” in Portuguese. I was confused by this and he took this to mean that I didn’t speak English so he began trying to ask me to move my suitcase over with gestures. We hadn’t even arrived in Rio and I was already being mistaken for a Brazilian girl? This trip was going to be awesome.

In Which I Roam The Highways of The Hudson River, Looking For Unsuspecting Motorists Upon Which To Prey

2011-08-10T13:51:00.000-07:00

According to my Moon Handbook, the Hudson River Valley was first settled 10,000 years ago. It was inhabited by the Algonquin, Iroquois, and Lenape tribes when Henry Hudson first sailed himself up the river in 1609. That is 400 years ago! That is a long, long time! Do you remember what you were doing 400 years ago? Me neither.

I think, because the area has so much marvelous history, when I explored the Hudson River Valley, I had the feeling of entering a region that had been preserved in amber. For these reasons, the word I picked to describe the Hudson River Valley is old-fashioned and I mean that in the best possible way.

1. When I say that the Hudson River Valley is old-fashioned, I’m not just messing around. I knew that there were historic buildings in the region, but I didn’t realize just how many of them there were, nor did I realize that some of them were staffed by enthusiastic locals in period garb.

Washington Irving’s home, Sunnyside, was one such destination, and it was as quaint and charming as you would want the home of such a beloved American figure to be. There are different tour guides dressed in robes, capes (because it was cold out), and in one very tall gentleman’s case, a top hat and coat with tails. I really wish that I were allowed to show up to work dressed like that. To be fair though, I’ve never tried.

The tour guides had lots of cool information and showed us some lovely antique furniture and clothes and told us some great facts about his life. It’s been a while since I’ve done a Three Fun Facts, so here goes:

Three Fun (and Old-School) Facts About Washington Irving

I. His fiancée died young and Irving never married, staying a kind of “cool uncle” to his many nieces and nephews. OK, that early death thing isn’t very fun, but I totally wish I had a cool, rich uncle who’d bring me treats from Europe. That does sound fun.

II. Dude wore a smoking jacket and they showed it to us. Smoking jackets are so rad. Gentlemen readers, be warned that the ladies cannot resist a fine smoking jacket. I suggest bringing them back now.

III. He invented Christmas! Well, not really, but the guides did credit Irving with popularizing English Christmas traditions in this country and Sunnyside had a Victorian Christmas card making activity going on in his honor.

To be honest, some of the tour guides were so enthusiastic, I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them, in fact, were not actual employees of the historic homes, and had simply showed up in fancy dress one day to squire around unsuspecting tourists and dupe them with false facts about the scribe behind Ichabod Crane and the Headless Horseman.

2. Tarrytown isn’t just old fashioned because of the gentlemen in tails and ladies in red capes strolling about. As I mentioned earlier, I needed to lug Sakura, my suitcase, with me around the city because there was nowhere to check it. The very nice women at the gift shop offered to keep it safe for me. This kind of friendly trustworthiness is just what I would expect from the hostesses of a fine 18th century mansion.

3. Stone Barns, where I ate lunch, is a super popular destination built on the premise that cooking with organic, farm-grown produce is the healthiest way to prepare food. Old-school farming meets haute cuisine in a most delicious way.

4. I got really sick of paying for cabs to take me around Tarrytown, so I decided to walk it from Stone Barns to the train station. As I was wheeling Sakura down the dirt road, a woman driving away from Stone Barns stopped me and asked where I was going. She then offered to give me a ride to the train station.

I would never get in the car with a strange man, but if a woman from whom I get good vibes offers me a lift, I’ll say yes. I know this is super sexist of me, but I’ll try to live with myself. Anyway, this kind of neighborly “offering to give a ride to strangers” thing is old-fashioned in the best sense. It’s like this woman came in a time machine before the movie “The Hitcher” came out, otherwise she never would have let me in her car. After all, I do bear a close resemblance to Rutger Hauer. See:

5. The next day, I spent hiking in the Hudson Highlands State Park around Cold Spring. I loved how peaceful this area was. You should be a little careful when hiking alone here, as Patience warned me that sometimes bears are sighted in the area. While being eaten by a bear does sound old-fashioned in an “Oregon Trail” sort of way, it’s not how I wanted to spend my vacation.

I strongly recommend hiking around here because it’s a great way to spend the way and the beautiful views of the Hudson give you the feeling that no time at all has changed since Henry first arrived. The Hudson doesn’t tend to show up on the “World’s Best River” lists, but I think it’s beautiful enough to hold its own with the best of them.

6. I toured another historic home, the Boscobel, in the afternoon, which is obviously old-fashioned by virtue of being a historic home. On top of this, the best way to get to the Boscobel from Cold Spring, if you don’t have a car, is to take a trolley. This is an adorable green trolley that loops around the town and environs, eventually dropping you off at the historic Boscobel.

There’s no more retro way to get around than a trolley, unless it is in a chaise lounge carried by several peasants, and frankly I would rather take the trolley. It was driven by a cranky old man, which only made the experience seem more authentic.

7. The Boscobel itself of course, is a well preserved mansion that belonged to a Royalist named States Morris Dyckman (AWESOME name, BTDubs). Just as at Sunnyside, the tour guide was enthusiastic and full of knowledge about the period. Mostly she seemed to enjoy complaining about things in the house that had been artificially restored and were not 100% accurate.

The house is gorgeous but my favorite things were the portraits of the family and the sensational Wedgwood blue and white china collection. Apparently the way American painters used to do portraits back then was to copy backgrounds from European paintings and then just plop a portrait of their subject in the middle of this other painting. I think it’s so funny that now most Americans are inclined to think of this country as superior to all others, but once upon a time, we thought of ourselves as upstarts compared to the classier Europeans.

8. You are not going to believe this but I went on the tour with a mother and her daughter (this isn’t the unbelievable part) and when it was over, they offered to drive me back to Cold Spring so I didn’t have to wait for the trolley. If you’re keeping score, that makes THREE times that a stranger offered me a free ride. Love those old-fashioned Hudson Valley manners!

9. Nothing says old like antiquing and Cold Spring has some of the best antique shops. I bought a great old German advent calendar (complete with glitter on it that was still intact) at a very messy but bountiful shop on Main Street, and was sorely tempted to buy a gorgeous Bakelite bangle at a great store called Decades. The gentlemen at Decades were super helped and found me a great antique silver charm from the 40s that was shaped like a little wooden log. It was the perfect memento of the region.

10. Some of you may think that the day I spent at Dia: Beacon invalidates my thesis, because there’s nothing old-fashioned about a giant warehouse full of strange modern art pieces, like white on white paintings by Robert Ryman or weird/awesome spider-like sculptures by Louise Bourgeois. I happen to like both Ryman and Bourgeois, even if the white on white paintings do remind me of that episode of Rocky and Bullwinkle where he starts painting things like “the Abominable Snowman eating marshmallows in a blizzard” but yes, they aren’t old-fashioned.

I have two reasons for not abandoning my thesis, however. The first is that Dia is the exception that proves the rule and that its modernity only highlights the retro-osity of the rest of the region. The second is that a lot of the art does incorporate old materials in new ways-my favorite was a big map of Niagara Falls made out of retro Niagara Falls postcards. It did a nice job of making me think about the way artificial images form our understanding of nature.

11. The last thing I did in Cold Spring was eat my delicious peach muffin outside this charming gazebo. There need to be more gazebos in this world. I’m thinking of having one installed in my apartment. Bring back the gazebo!

I had a great time riding the Big Hud and I can’t wait to go back. I did decide that it’s probably better to visit the region in October when the foliage is in full fol, so I am going to return this Columbus Day weekend to eat more pie. And possibly do other things.
Until then, here are:

My Approximately Top Ten Favorite Things About The Hudson River Valley

1. Most Important Lesson Of The Trip: I’ve never planned a multi-leg train trip before, so this was a valuable traveling experience for me and now I feel confident that I could do it again with ease.

2. Favorite Part of the Hudson River Valley: I know I spent the most amount of time here, but Cold Spring is a very charming town with great shopping, yummy food, and free pie. All this and a gazebo too?

3. Favorite Experience (Arts): Dia: Beacon, with its white on white paintings, hideous/beautiful spider sculptures, and postcard based depictions of Niagara Falls.

4. Favorite Experience (Nature): Going hiking in the mountains around Cold Spring, climbing up the rocks with my hands, and getting some amazing views of the Hudson River.

5. Favorite Experience (History): Taking a surly trolley to Boscobel and then getting a most vivaciously presented tour of a beautiful historic home.

6. Favorite Experience (Evening): Hanging out with Patience and eating pie in the lobby of the Pig Hill. Here’s what Cold Spring doesn’t have: exciting nightlife options. Although I can think of few better ways to spend an evening than with a friend and free pie.

7. Favorite meal: The Valley at the Garrison is amaze. Don’t pass up an opportunity to go but don’t expect you to drive them home either.

8. Favorite dessert: Hmm. I’m having trouble thinking of what to put here. Did I eat any dessert on this trip. Oh wait, I do know! Unlimited delicious free pumpkin pie at the Pig Hill.

9. Favorite drink: Once again, I go non-alcoholic with the super strong coffee at the Foundry.

10. Favorite souvenir: My antique charm is perfect, but I still prefer my old school advent calendar. It’s exactly what I was looking for.

11. Favorite thing about the Hudson River Valley in general: That the diverse, culturally significant, and fascinating region proves that not only is New York the greatest city in the world, it’s also the greatest state. Also, free pie.

In Which Crazy People Won't Stop Giving Me Free Stuff

2011-08-09T12:00:00.000-07:00

I am lucky enough to have had many friends in my life for a long time. I think this is one of the consequences of living in New York City, many people from here stay here after college, so a lot of my friends from high school and I have been able to stay in touch.

My friendship with Patience, however, manages to be impressively long-lived, even by these standards. We have been friends since the tender age of 2, when we used to play in Washington Square Park together. She moved to Singapore at 10 and we lost touch for a while, but have reconnected since she moved back to the States.

Patience lives with her mother and her sister Prudence in the charming town of Cold Spring, NY, which is in Putnam County on the Lower Hudson River Valley. In addition, a good friend of my mother’s lives in Garrison, NY, nearby and I very much enjoy seeing her too. When it came time for me to decide where to go for my Thanksgiving break vacation, I thought I should spend some time exploring the Hudson Valley area.

I have decided in the future to not take Thanksgiving break vacations unless I am actually going to visit family. It was too much running around, having to rush back from dinner late on Thanksgiving evening so that I could be ready to leave for my trip early on Friday. I also didn’t have a full long weekend to enjoy myself. I think that it’s necessary to have at least two full days in a place to really relax there.

None of that is meant to imply that I had anything less than a sensational time on the Big Hud. I got to hang out with my assorted compadres and the Hudson Valley has great shopping, scenery, and most importantly delicious food.

And so, without further ado, I present:

A List Of Everything I Ate While In The Hudson River Valley For Thanksgiving Weekend 2010

1. Frittata and Chorizo scone with coffee at the Blue Hill Café

I’ve mentioned in the past that I like to use two different guidebook series, either Lonely Planet or Frommer’s. Lonely Planet is better for more off the beaten track places, whereas Frommer’s is best for providing practical itineraries and good, conventional recommendations.

There is a third guidebook series that I have started to like, called Moon. Moon specializes in North and South America and I used their guides to help plan activities for my Twin Cities trip, as well as this trip to the Hudson Valley. I find that they’re really useful when you want to plan a trip to a less widely visited destination in the US.

Anyway, following their suggestions, my first stop was in Tarrytown, NY, to take a look at Washington Irving’s house Sunnyside and eat at the Blue Hill Café for lunch. This Café is part of Stone Barns, which is a wonderful farm that provides educational opportunities for kids as well as nom-able produce for the rest of us. They have a fancy restaurant on the premises but I was just there to grab a quick bite so I went to the cheaper café.

I had one handicap, which is that since I was stopping in Tarrytown without stopping at my hotel first, I had no opportunity to check my bag. So Sakura and I had to wander Tarrytown together as one. Fortunately, no one at the Blue Hill Café was bothered by my bag and all I had to do was order inside the little shop and then eat on a little bench outside, same as everyone else.

I ate a piece of perfectly cooked veggie frittata and, at the suggestion of the woman behind the counter, a savory chorizo scone. It was spicy and buttery and flaky. However, my favorite thing about the lunch is that there were chickens wandering around outside watching me eat. Aren't they cute?

The whole lunch made me really want to try the regular restaurant. Some day!

2. Fish Stew at Riverview

I then went up to Cold Spring, checked into my hotel, and met up with Patience. We had a fantastic tea with my mother’s friend at her house, which was shortly followed by dinner in Cold Springlater that evening. One thing I love about vacations is that you can eat as many meals as you want. I fondly remember a cruise I went on that served five meals a day.

At Patience’s recommendation we went to a restaurant called Riverview, on Fair Street, where I had the seafood stew, nicely flavored with thai chili and lemongrass. I love spicy food, so I liked the stew very much, but I don’t think that it was too strong, if you happen to be one of those unfortunates who doesn’t like it hot.

3. Apple pie at The Pig Hill Inn

After dinner, Patience and I went back to the hotel to enjoy the finest amenity I have ever received at a hotel. Some hotels have free cookies, some have free breakfast, and one hotel I’ve stayed at had free peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, which was very nice. But The Pig Hill has a freebee that I can guarantee will make you want to go stay there right now.

They give you free PIE. That’s right, every day there’s a new free PIE and if you are staying there, you can just take some. That day, the free pie was apple and Patience and I sat in the cozy lobby of The Pig Hill and ate some flaky pie with warm apple filling.

Also, the place is extra cute because of all the pigs that decorate its hallowed halls. I guess if you've got a theme, you should go with it. Here is the pig from my room:

Pigs or chickens, which are cuter? Or more to the point, which are more delicious?

4. Eggs and Some Other Stuff at The Pig Hill

Both Saturday and Sunday mornings, I ate the complimentary breakfast at the Pig Hill, which did my favorite sunny-side eggs quite nicely. I don’t remember as much about the breakfasts as I wish I did, but as you can bet your life that I’ll be coming back to get some more of that pie, I’ll take more careful breakfast-related notes next time.

5. Soup at the Foundry

Saturday morning, I went hiking around Cold Spring and then stopped for lunch at the Foundry. This place is well known for its soup, and it was a chilly day, so I had a bowl of very delicious split pea soup and a cup of steaming coffee.

I’ve heard mixed things about the service here—my waitress was really nice and called me “hon” but the service is on the slow side and you have to be willing to wave and get your server’s attention. Don’t be shy and you’ll be fine. The food is a great bargain, and sometimes in life you need to make a trade-off.

6. Pumpkin Pie at the Pig Hill

After lunch, I toured the Boscobel house and then, of course, stopped back at the Pig Hill for my free Pie O’ the Day. It was just as good as the apple, with a perfectly spiced filling. I think I maybe liked this pie better, just because I adore a good pumpkin pie and they are harder to find than apple.

7. Venison and Pumpkin Donuts at the Valley, Possibly Among Other Things

That night, I had reservations at the finest restaurant in the neighborhood, the Valley at the Garrison resort. This was one of their last weekends before closing for the season so I pretty much had the place to myself.

It is at this point that I really curse myself for losing my commonplace book at that interview for the job that I didn’t get because I don’t remember what I had for an appetizer. I don’t even remember if I did have an appetizer. I’m sure that whatever I had was delicious, if it existed.

I do remember having venison for main course—the Valley uses only ingredients that are in season and being as this was the fall, game was what was on the menu. The portions were not overwhelmingly big (I hate huge portions) and the venison was perfectly cooked and not even slightly tough or gamey. I know a lot of people find the idea of eating deer upsetting, and I sort of do myself, but the meat really does have a unique, rich flavor.

My dessert was some truly delicious pumpkin donuts with a vanilla cream sauce and you can probably tell that I loved them because I remember them in detail, even without my notebook. They were more donut holes than donuts, but they were crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and incredible all over.

At the end of the evening, I ran into some trouble because I found it impossible to catch a cab. I called for one, the hostess called for one, but apparently they were all booked up. One company said that they could give me a cab, but I waited and waited and couldn’t get any service.

Finally, the hostess got fed up and offered to drive me back to my hotel herself. I accepted her very generous offer and we had a nice conversation on the way back. Seriously, I think this qualifies the Valley for having the very best service of any restaurant I have ever been to. I’ve had some good service, but no one has ever driven me home before. Thanks Valley Hostess!

8. Green curry at Sukhothai

On Sunday, I went to Dia:Beacon and had lunch at a Thai restaurant in town called Sukhothai, which was recommended by my guidebook. The green curry reminded me of the seafood stew at Riverview, which is a compliment to both.

I’m not as familiar with Thai food as I would like to be, but I love what I know of it. My favorite Thai restaurant is Boyd Thai in my neighborhood, which is not gourmet, but is cheap and delicious. I thought Sukhothai was just as good, which is pretty great for a restaurant in a small town like Beacon.

9. Peach muffin at the Foundry

I went back to Cold Spring to pick up my suitcase and say goodbye to Patience and Prudence, and I stopped back at the Foundry to pick up a snack for the road. Patience told me that their muffins were really good and she told no lies. I had the intriguingly named peach muffin, which was incredibly fluffy and full of real peach chunks. Between this, my pies, and the donuts at the Valley, I feel that the region obviously has some special pastry related affinity, the reason for which I cannot explain.

I didn’t know much about the rest of New York State before taking this trip, but I think all of the deliciousness I experienced just goes to show you that good food can be had just about anywhere, as long as you know where to look.

In Which I Publically Denounce The Cruel, Cruel Maliciousness of the Minnesotan Populace

2011-08-08T12:42:00.000-07:00

New Yorkers have a reputation for being grumpy, but there isn’t a Wikipedia page about the expression “New York Grumpy”. There is, however, a Wikipedia page about the expression “Minnesota nice”. Minnesotans are so legendarily nice; it might as well be a saying, like “busy as a bee”. You are “nice as a Minnesotan”. Of course, every Minnesotan reading this blog is not thinking, “Aw shucks, we’re not really that nice.” You totally are, so shut your face and let me compliment you.

It will surprise no one to learn that “nice” was the adjective that I picked to describe Minnesota. However, I don’t mean “nice” in the tepid sense, I mean “nice” in the sense of being genuinely thoughtful and caring. Observe:

1. First off, it was very nice for Tori to put me up for the weekend and also nice for her roommate to let me use her room while she was out of town. Thanks both of you! You are nice enough to be honorary Minnesotans.

2. Amish merchants sell their wares at the Mill City Farmers Market and anyone who’s seen Witness knows how nice the Amish are. Also, the Mayor introduced himself to me! If that doesn’t prove Minnesota is nice, I don’t know what does.

3. The reason the area is called Mill City is because it is in top of ruins of the old mill. The old Pillsbury factory is nearby and is anything nicer than a Pillsbury factory? I mean, just think of that adorable dough boy that giggles! Also, I got a bundt cake pan charm here, which is super cute. Baked goods make everything nicer.

4. The streets in the Midwest are SO HUGE. It must make driving convenient. The buildings are also of a nice manageable size. I don’t pay as much attention to urban planning as I should, given my interest in traveling to cities, but I do think Minneapolis’s flat, broad streets give the city a very approachable and comfortable feel.

5. Even the weather was nice and obliging! Though I came in October and the weather in Minnesota usually gets cold by that point, it was gorgeous and sunny. On top of this, the fall foliage was absolutely spectacular.
I went to college in New England and I miss the leaves turning fabulous colors. That is one thing New York City is missing; I always feel like the fall goes by way too quickly.

6. The Walker Sculpture Garden’s most famous feature is a giant sculpture of a spoon and cherry by Claes Oldenburg and his wife Coosje van Bruggen. Think about how deliberately ugly and distasteful so much modern art is, with its dead sharks and skulls and whatnot. In Minnesota, even the modern art gives you the warm fuzzies.

I defy you to look at that giant cherry and not smile.

7. Mary Richards, the main character of The Mary Tyler Moore Show, who famously turned the world on with her smile, lived and worked in Minneapolis and there is a statue of her in downtown Mpls. I may or may not have had my picture taken with the statue.

OK fine. I totally did.

8. We saw a production of Louise Erdritch’s The Master Butchers Singing Club, which is a play about a German immigrant family in the early part of the 20th century, as well as the history of the region’s Native Americans.

Many people would not characterize this as a “nice” play as the subject matter is often violent and disturbing. However, I did feel that the fact that the Guthrie was performing a play about our nation’s complicated past and diverse heritage exemplified the Scandinavian tolerance that is a big part of Minnesota nice.

9. Downtown St. Paul has a statue of Herb Ritts, the hockey coach who led the 1980 US Olympic team to victory. (DO YOU BELIEVE IN MIRACLES?) It also has statues of Linus and Sally from Peanuts, as Charles Schultz was from the Twin Cities. If these statues don’t give you a nice cozy feeling, I don’t know what will. There’s also a statue of hometown hero F. Scott Fitzgerald, but that is less nice, I must admit, unless you think brilliant and unstable drunks are “nice”, in which case I'm never inviting you to a party.

10. The Landmark Center in St. Paul might as well be subtitled, “Home of the Good Guys”. There’s lots of information in the Center about how St. Paul used to be home to a lot of criminals and organized crime members. Being as organized criminals are generally not nice people, the law enforcement officials of St. Paul had no choice but to get a little mean and track them down. A lot of these miscreants, for example John Dillinger’s girlfriend, Evelyne Frechette, were tried in the Landmark Center.

Surely ridding the world of dangerous criminals counts as nice. I bet the St. Paul police were super polite to Ms. Frechette and her partners in crime as they put ‘em away. Also, the marble in the building is pink. PINK! Imagine Law and Order set in a pink marble building. I gotta respect any city that constructs its correctional facilities from such a sweet color.

11. It was very nice of my cousins and great-aunt to take us to dinner at Sea Salt. Thanks again, everybody! I had a great time.

12. Again, Izzy’s ice cream gives you a free little scoop on top of your regular ice cream. Nice, adorable, and delicious too!

13. Monday we spent strolling around some of the beautiful lakes in Minneapolis. Minnesota is known for its lakes and I do believe that lakes are the “nicest” kind of body of water that there is. With the dangerous waves, oceans hardly count as nice and rivers aren’t much better with their rushing streams and the sharp rocks. Lakes, on the other hand are perfectly nice and calm and trustworthy. See:

14. My flight home was severely delayed by bad weather and we almost had to land in Philly. I was very concerned because I had to be at work early the next morning. Fortunately the weather cleared up just in time for me to land in New York and make my work trip the next day. Thanks Minnesota!

Minnesota was a great trip! I don’t know if I’m going to rush back, the way I want to go back soon to Philadelphia and some of the other locations, but this is largely because the trip was so successful, I feel no need to try to do it again, only better.

The Approximately Top Ten Favorite Things About My Columbus Day Weekend 2010 Trip to the Twin Cities

1. Most Important Lesson Of The Trip: I learned that sharing a trip with a friend can be just as fun as traveling alone, as long as you learn to compromise.

2. Favorite Neighborhood: Downtown St. Paul! Meritage + statues of F. Scott and Peanuts characters + the Landmark Center = An Afternoon of Fun

3. Favorite Experience (Arts): SPOONBRIDGE AND CHERRY. I mean, it is a giant spoon, with a giant cherry on it. It makes you happy to just look at it. This is what I call art.

4. Favorite Experience (Nature): Taking a stroll around the lovely Lake Louise. I wonder if Minnesota has a lot of lakes or something?

5. Favorite Experience (History): Touring the Landmark Center and seeing the shiny, shiny pink marble everywhere. I am all about being a serious student of history.

6. Favorite Experience (Evening): Seeing The Master Butcher’s Singing Club at the Guthrie. Also watching Mad Men with Tori and her friends but I don’t think most tourists can replicate that experience.

7. Favorite meal: The one of a kind brunch at Hell’s Kitchen. If it’s good enough for Stuart Smalley…

8. Favorite dessert: So hard to pick between Izzy and Sebastian Joe! I think it was actually the cream cheese flavor from Izzy’s because the taste was so pure and memorable.

9. Favorite drink: Coffee from the Mill City Farmer’s Market. Wow, last trip my drink of choice was water and this time it’s coffee. I need to drink more booze.

10. Favorite souvenir: Again, not a big souvenir trip. I did love my bundt cake pan charm that I got at the Mill City Ruins.

11. Favorite thing about the Twin Cities in general: The Minnesotans themselves! So charmingly mannered and polite, I felt like I was back in the South. This is for real, this time.

In Which I Have An Extremely Exciting Celebrity Encounter

2011-08-07T14:03:00.000-07:00

My sister asked me to name my Top Five favorite US states once and I told her that (though I’ve only been to 29) my favorites were New York, New Mexico, Georgia, Minnesota, and Maine, in that order.

Some people might look at that list and say “Minnesota? Why Minnesota? Isn’t that just full of wilderness and people who talk like this?” Well, let me tell you, Hypothetic Skeptic, Minnesota is so much more than snow, forest, and criminals being stuffed into woodchippers. I spent five happy summers in Bemidji, MN going to summer camp at Lac du Bois. My stepgrandparents lived there for most of my childhood and a lot of my stepmother's family still lives here. Coming to Minnesota during most summers and Christmases helped me really learn to love the state.

Minnesota has amazing natural resources, TWO lovely conjoined cities, and some really tasty food. Plus, plenty of cool people, both real and fictional, have lived in the state, my favorite being Mary Richards, with F. Scott Fitzgerald a close second and the Mighty Ducks third.

Minnesota also has really great people, including my best friend from college and loads of my step-cousins. I decided that a visit to the Twin Cities was long overdue, so I booked a flight, asked my friend “Tori” if I could borrow her couch, and headed to MPLS for the Columbus Day holiday.

Once again, I’ve decided to use the framework of “A List of The Many Delicious Things That I Put In My Belly” to give you the highlights of my trip. So, here goes:

Everything I Ate While In The Twin Cities For Columbus Day 2010!

1. Spiced Donuts, heirloom tomatoes, and artisanal cheese at the Mill City Farmers Market

My flight got into MN late Friday so I didn’t eat anything there until Saturday morning. Tori took me to the Mill City Farmer’s Market, which was full of yummy looking stands with every kind of food imaginable. She suggested the Indian spiced mini-donuts from Chef Shack, which were divine. They were not too sweet and full of flavor.

Afterwards, we bought some very tasty artisanal sheep cheese and talked about lunching on it for a picnic at some point. Next, we stopped at an Amish tomato stand to find produce, also possibly for said picnic. The heirlooms were gorgeous, and came in every color, including purple. I was super excited about eating them, but not as excited as I was about what happened next.

Tori noticed that the stand had a sign up saying that this was their last weekend at the Market for the year. This makes sense—tomato season was over. A good-looking older gentleman started to commiserate with her and I was reminded that Minnesota is much friendlier than New York—in NYC you don’t start talking to strangers.

Tori told the man that I was from New York City and he cheerfully said, “Oh, nice to meet you! I’m the Mayor of Minneapolis!” Now, my initial reaction was, “SAD! This man seems so nice but really he’s insane.” But then I looked at Tori and could see from the look on her face that this man was, for real, the Mayor of Minneapolis, Mr. R. T. Rybak.

I certainly wasn’t expected to meet the Mayor! I mean, I’ve lived in NYC all my life but I’ve never met an actual NYC mayor. Although, there was that time I went to see the musical version of James Joyce’s short story “The Dead”, starring Christopher Walken, and Mayor Giuliani was in attendance with his then-girlfriend, now wife. That was almost as exciting as this was but sadly that evening involved no spiced donuts.

2. Tuna sandwich at Be’wiched

After the Farmers Market, a tour of the Mill City Ruins, and a lovely stroll down the Mississippi, Tori and I went to get lunch at an adorable shop called Be’Wiched on Washington Avenue. I had a delicious tuna confit sandwich on focaccia, salty, tangy, and satisfying. At almost ten dollars, it was quite costly for a sandwich, but certainly yummy enough to deserve the fee.

3. Pho at Quang

Wespent the afternoon at the Walker Art Center and Sculpture Garden, then met up with Tori’s boyfriend to have dinner at a Thai restaurant called Quang, on Nicollet Avenue. Nicollet is also known as “Eat Street”, because of all the different ethnic restaurants that line its walkways. My Moon guidebook to the Twin Cities insisted that Quang's was among the best of the bunch and my hostess concurred, so we went there.

I had the Pho Tai, a flavorful and steaming bowl of beef and noodles. Not only was it very tasty, but it was also really cheap. The whole bowl of savory-osity cost less than my tuna sandwich for lunch. I think no matter what your budget was, you could stand to check out Quang’s.

4. Pavarotti/Apple crisp ice cream at Sebastian Joe’s

That evening we went to see a play at the Guthrie, Minneapolis’s excellent regional theater, and then got a little dessert at an excellent ice cream shop on West Franklin Avenue. I tried two flavors in one dish, because variety is always better, and the ice cream server suggested these two as a couple that went well together.

The Pavarotti was amazing, caramel, chocolate, and banana. It was like a monkey’s dream come true. The apple crisp impressed for having real frozen chunks of apple in it. I do think frozen fruit is one of the best desserts there is. I wasn’t sure the two flavors were a perfect marriage, but separately they tasted sensational.

5. Eggs Benny at Meritage

On Sunday, we went to see the sights of downtown St. Paul (no, that’s not a contradiction in terms, see the beautiful Cathedral above). Before tackling the tourist attractions, we had brunch at a French restaurant called Meritage on Saint Peter Street.

Meritage is super cute, the kind of classic French restaurant you can find in cities all over the United States, but I’m really glad that one exists in the not-super-glamorous St. Paul. I ordered the eggs benedict, to my mind the perfect brunch food, and they were perfectly cooked, with a tangy, smooth hollandaise. I know I sound like a broken record praising everything that I eat like this, but I truly have lucked out in the food department on my travels.

6. Fish tacos at Sea Salt

We spent the day at the Landmark Center building, as well as the Minnesota History Center, and then went to a restaurant called Sea Salt, back in Minneapolis , right by Minnehaha Falls. Seating at Sea Salt (say that five times fast) is outdoors in one of the prettiest settings in the Twin Cities and I was told that it gets super popular on warm evenings. It was certainly packed this night; we were lucky that my family saved us a table.

Tori and I were joining my step-great aunt and my step-cousins for dinner here. One of my cousins, who is a violinist, was playing a gig here. The music, combined with the gorgeous setting right by the gentle Falls, combined to create a peaceful environment and we spent a lovely evening chatting with my relatives and enjoying the surroundings.

As for the food, the fish was fresh, if somewhat bland, and reasonably priced. I think I might try a different dish the next time I go to the restaurant, but I was impressed with the fish quality, especially given the volume of customers that the restaurant serves.

7. Midnight Snack with an Izzy Scoop of Cream Cheese on top

We went back to St. Paul for dessert, which was at another one of the Twin Cities’ excellent ice cream shops. The server recommended their Midnight Snack flavor, which is graham cracker ice cream with peanut butter and chocolate. Izzy’s is famous for giving you an extra “Izzy” scoop on top of your regular flavor—cream cheese was the suggested accompaniment.

The Midnight Snack was decadent, but I think I liked the cream cheese best of all, because the flavor was so concentrated. It tasted like a perfect cream cheese frosting that had been frozen. I don’t think I could pick between Izzy’s and Sebastian Joe’s, though. If I lived in the Twin Cities, I’d just have to come to both places all the time.

8. Eggs, bacon, toast, hash browns, and creamy manohmin porridge at Hell’s Kitchen

The next morning, we went to brunch at Hell’s Kitchen, which looks like a bordello run by Kat von D. That sounds like a hideous insult, but it isn’t. Brunch places tend to look twee and are genteely decorated. Hell’s Kitchen has deep red walls and a chandelier made of knives. I found the decor to be a nice change of pace.

Naturally I wanted the specialty, which is manohmin porridge, made by cooking wild rice and adding cream, berries, and maple syrup. Tori told me that Minnesota Senator Al Franken supposedly has this stuff delivered to him in Washington.

I wasn't sure that being a member of Congress these days is worth getting this porridge shipped to your door, but one bite of the creamy bowl of that nutty local wild rice almost inspired me to run for office. Hey, I went to camp in Minnesota! They elected Jesse “The Body” Ventura! I bet I could at least get elected to the House of Representatives.

I also ordered an eggs, bacon, toast, and hash browns combo to go with the porridge because I wanted some more variety. It was all delicious and I particularly enjoyed the crisp and not-too-greasy hash browns. I got my eggs sunny side up, which I always do, because I enjoy mopping up the yolk with my toast.

9. Samples at Byerly's

Byerly's is an awesome supermarket that offers plentiful amounts of free samples. When I was a little girl, I would come to stay with my step-grandparents before heading off to camp. I always insisted on coming to Byerly's and eating the samples of cheese, meatballs, cookies, lefse, lutefisk, etc. (ok, maybe not lutefisk).

They didn't have a lot of samples on this occasion because it was Monday and samples are more plentiful on weekends. I did get some cheese samples and bought wild rice for my family, so I left pretty happy. It's always nice to revisit a place you loved as a kid and still have affection for it.

10. Jucy Lucy at Matt’s

We spent that day wandering around Lake Louise and feasted on the cheese and tomatoes, along with some bread that came from a local baker that Tori is a little obsessed with (in a good way). But this was not enough food. No, we had not eaten nearly enough.

Our final stop was at a place called Matt’s on Cedar Avenue South, which is famous for originating Minneapolis’s most famous culinary achievement, the Jucy Lucy. First off, that’s not a typo. Matt’s insists on spelling the magical concoction’s name this way. Apparently there’s another restaurant that claims to have invented the burger and they spell its name correctly, or incorrectly, depending on your allegiance.

But what is the Jucy Lucy? It is an invention so simple and brilliant, I only wonder that it took someone so long to think of it. It is a reverse cheeseburger. The cheese goes inside the patty and the whole thing gets cooked on a grill, so the cheese melts and gets all sticky and delicious inside the meat.

They cooked our Jucy Lucy on an ancient black grill, which probably only made it taste better. The waitress warned us that you need to be careful when eating it, because at first the cheese is so hot that it will scald your tongue if you’re not careful. It’s no gourmet burger, but it is extremely tasty and satisfying and I’m not sure it would be improved by the use of a Pat LaFrieda blend or something.

Next time: I come up with the perfect word to describe the Twin Cities. Here’s a hint: it’s not belligerent.

In Which I Leave The Umlaut Out Of Mutter

2011-08-06T12:50:00.000-07:00

One of my favorite books as a kid was The Tattooed Potato and Other Clues, by Ellen Raskin. In that book, the famous detective/hack portrait painter Garson asks his assistant Dickory Dock to practice her powers of observation by coming up with one perfect word to describe the various eccentric characters they meet. (If this description doesn’t make you want to read the book, I have failed utterly.)

I also find this exercise useful when it comes to describing places. I have been trying to think of the perfect word to sum up my experiences at each location I have traveled to.

I had some help in coming up with the perfect word for Philadelphia from a Time Out New York article that I read about “weird” things to do in the city. Weird is the precisely perfect word to describe Philly and I mean that as a compliment. You may consider the above sentence my thesis and the following my supporting evidence.

1. At First Friday, I encountered people spray painted silver and dressed as robots, as well as a young lady giving out Red Bulls from the back of a truck.

2. Come on, does no one think it’s weird that people stand on line for 30 minutes to look at a bell? The bell has its own house! There is a case in this house with different kinds of merchandise all decorated with images of the bell. (This strangeness is the very reason I love the Bell so much.)

3. There’s a museum dedicated to Betsy Ross, when, according to the museum, her biggest achievement is that a lot of people think that she made the first American flag, but probably she didn’t. Everyone, please start a rumor that I was the first woman to land on Mars just so that someone in the future might make a museum out of my apartment

4. THE MUMMERS’ MUSEUM, OMG. This is possibly the most terrifying thing I have ever seen. The Mummers are kind of like Mardi Gras Krewes, except that they have their big parade every New Years. The Mummers have a different theme every year and elaborate costumes, some of which are stored in the Mummers’ Museum. Look! Are they not petrifying?

Steven King, please get on this and write a book about Mummers costumes come to life. It would inspire terror beyond measure. I loved the museum and was especially tickled to discover that, according to the displays at the museum, Frank Rizzo is the current Mayor of Philadelphia.

5. The Barnes Foundation, which is wonderfully weird because it was designed by eccentric millionaire Albert Barnes, who carefully arranged his mind-boggling collection of Impressionist works in his own mansion, which is just outside Philly in Merion, PA. It only takes a short bus ride to get there.

At least, it did take just a short bus ride. “People”, and by people, I mean morons, decided that this location was too inconvenient and have since relocated the Barnes Foundation to an exhibit in Philadelphia itself. But the truly special thing about the collection is the feeling it provides of walking into Barnes’s home and mind and seeing his personal favorite artworks the way that he intended them to be seen. I’m so glad that I got to see this treasure before it was relocated. Nevertheless, as great as it was, I think any museum constructed by an “eccentric millionaire” counts as weird

6. The Fringe Festival. Obviously something with the word Fringe in it isn’t exactly going to be mainstream. The Philadelphia Live Arts and Fringe Festival happens every September and features different kinds of unusual performances by all sorts of different actors, dancers, comedians, etc. I stumbled into a comedy performance by a group of three white guys, called Pasiones de Pasiones, that do improvised telenovelas. I have to hand it to them, they were definitely funnier than that description makes them sound.

7. My last morning in Philadelphia, I attended a Labor Day party for union workers on Penn’s Landing and watched as they, in a protest against Del Monte’s labor practices, dumped a bunch of pineapples into the Delaware River. POWER TO THE PEOPLE and all, but still. Weird.

8. Isaiah Zagar’s Magic Gardens is like the Barnes Foundation for the avant-garde. Although the Barnes Foundation was avant-garde in its day, but never mind that now. The Magic Gardens are a kind of playground/museum by mosaic artist Isaiah Zagar. The walls, tunnels, steps and everything are made up of different pieces of glass, tiles with words on them, and assorted pieces of trash. I think a picture or two will explain better more than my words can.

See? It’s what Oscar the Grouch would create if he went to art school. (Again, compliment.)

9. I guarantee that if you ask someone who’s familiar with the city to name the weirdest place in Philadelphia, it is most likely that he will tell you about The Mutter Museum. There’s supposed to be an umlaut over the u in Mutter but I don’t know how to put that in.

The Mutter is dedicated to medical oddities. There are skeletons, skulls of murderers, shrunken heads, something called “The Soap Lady” and a piece of John Wilkes Booth’s thorax. Go, because you will never see anything else like it, but be warned that it isn’t for the weak of stomach.

I truly enjoyed my time in “weird” Philadelphia and look forward to going back there this Labor Day weekend. Let’s hope I don’t make myself sick again!

In conclusion, here are my:

Approximately Top Ten Favorite Things About My Labor Day Weekend 2010 Trip to Philly

1. Most Important Lesson Of The Trip: I learned that as much fun as it is to pelt, moderation is also important and knowing what not to do is just as important as knowing what to do.

2. Favorite Neighborhood: I wish I could be cool and say Rittenhouse or South Philly or something, but I dare not tell a lie. Thanks to Amada and all the historic sights, it’s gotta be Old Town.

3. Favorite Experience (Arts): The Barnes Foundation. I’d like to know the name of the craven miscreant who demanded that they move the place into Philadelphia proper so that I may have him shot.

4. Favorite Experience (Nature): The view of the Schuylkill from the Water Works Restaurant

5. Favorite Experience (History): The audio tour of the Betsy Ross House. It had lots of really interesting information about the time period, including the fun fact that the life expectancy back then was so short because of the high infant mortality rate, not because most people died at 40-something.

6. Favorite Experience (Evening): The Fringe Festival improvised telenovela

7. Favorite Meal: The tapas at Amada. I could nom on those suckers every single day of my life.

8. Favorite Dessert: Hydrox cookie ice cream from the Franklin Fountain. I am a woman of simple pleasures.

9. Favorite Drink: Spanish Bottled Water at Water Works.

10. Favorite Souvenir: This wasn’t a big souvenir trip for me, but I do like the painted card I got on First Friday, so I’ll say that.

11. Favorite Thing About Philadelphia in General: The Philadelphians themselves! So charmingly mannered and polite, I felt like I was back in the South. Just kidding! It’s the food. Great Scott, is it ever the food.

In Which I List Everything I Ate In Philadelphia Which Will Either Make You Green With Envy Or Green With Nausea

2011-08-05T11:35:00.000-07:00

I left my readers hanging with three questions at the end of the last post, so I feel honor bound to answer these questions before beginning to discuss my Philadelphia travels. Here goes:

1. Why do I love Philadelphia so much?

So, as any of my nearest and dearest could tell you (probably accompanied by a sigh and an eyeroll), I have a serious obsession with the late CBS procedural Cold Case, which was set in Philadelphia. Pretty much everything I know about Philly comes from Cold Case, such as the fact that Chestnut Hill is the area where the smug cake-eating murderers live, or that the Schuylkill River (pronounced Skoo-kull) is a good place to dump a dead body.

2. Who makes the best cheesesteak?

Usually nothing stops me from making uninformed pronouncements but I have no idea how to answer this question. To date I have only eaten two. If you’re looking for an answer to this question, you’ve come to the wrong blog.

3. Does God really hate the Phillies?

Obviously.

Anyway, now that this is out of the way, I was trying to come up with an organizing principle for writing about my Philadelphia adventures and then it occurred to me. I should just make a list of everything I ate over the course of the 72 hours that I spent in the city and this would end up providing a nice little summary of my trip. So, without further ado, here is:

Everything I Ate While In Philadelphia For Labor Day Weekend 2010

1. Vegan Cookie at First Friday

First Friday is this really cool event once a month in the Old Town section of Philadelphia. All of the galleries open their doors and people wander in and town, tasting free wine and cheese.

My best advice is to get there early if you want free hooch. I started wandering around Old Town around 7 and this was too late to get any of the freebies. I did buy an interesting notecard decorated with swirls of paint at one of the galleries, as well as a surprisingly moist vegan cookie from one of the many locals peddling their wares on the street. The galleries are cool, but the people-watching is what makes First Friday especially enjoyable.

2. Tapas and sangria at Amada

I believe that every traveler should have one or two favorite restaurants in every city, a place she comes back to each time she visits. In Philly, that place for me is Amada.

Amada is a supremely yummy tapas restaurant on Chestnut Street and I had an 8 PM reservation that I made on Open Table. The place was packed and even with the rez, I had to wait a little at the bar for my seat, but it was totally worth it.

I ordered a white wine sangria, which I expected to be made with wine and fruit, but instead was made with wine, fruit, brandy, and orange liqueur, which put me in a really cheerful mood. I decided my expansive frame of mind required lots of food, so I ordered the smallest possible tapas tasting menu.

I was then presented with a seemingly endless parade of scrumptious tapas. I felt like Dumbo in the Pink Elephants on Parade sequence, only much happier. I can’t remember every single thing I ate—highlights included a cheese/green apple/caramel pairing and a dish of perfectly cooked spicy peppers. If you go to Amada, you must get one of the cool cheese pairings because the restaurant is known for them.

3. Mascarpone stuffed pancakes at La Reserve

I stayed at a lovely bed and breakfast off Rittenhouse called La Reserve. I adore B and Bs. In fact, I think all hotels should have to give you a delicious breakfast or what is even the point of staying in a hotel?

La Reserve makes you put your name down for a specific time if you want breakfast and you share a table with some of the other guests. Saturday morning I ate with a divorced lady and a couple of bros from Mississippi bro-ing out B and B style before one of them was being called to active duty.

The breakfast was fabulous. The pancakes weren’t too sweet and were light like crepes and I still remember the smooth mascarpone filling. I believe blueberries were also involved somehow.

4. Calamari Salad at Fork Etc.

I spent that morning and early afternoon at Independence National Historical Park, seeing the Liberty Bell and such. I stopped for lunch at Fork Etc., on Market Street, which is the casual sister of the more upscale locavore restaurant Fork, located just next door.

The calamari salad was nice and refreshing after so much heavy food and the waitresses were super friendly and complimented me on my Liberty Bell on my travel charm bracelet.

5. Cherry Water Ice at John’s

That afternoon I went to the fabulously bizarre Mummer’s Museum in South Philly (details to follow) and followed this up with a water ice. According to my Moon guidebook to Philly, a “wooder ice” is creamier than an Italian ice and indeed my cherry ice from John’s on Christian St. proved to be of a suitably pleasing texture.

6. Gazpacho and a Philadelphian at Southwark

I wandered around South Philly a little and decided it was time to get dinner. Lonely Planet, for some reason, hates Philly and doesn’t have a guidebook for the place. I did find an eating tour of South Philly in one of their books, but there are so many restaurants listed on it that it seems to me you would need multiple stomachs like a cow does to get through the whole thing. I decided to do the best I could with what nature gave me.

The first stop on the list was an old school bar/locavore haven called Southwark on S. 4th Street. I went in and the place looked empty, but that’s because it had just opened and it was Labor Day weekend. I asked the bartender what he recommended to drink. This is usually the first question I ask at any restaurant. I don’t like making decisions and I do like all kinds of food so this pretty much is win-win for me.

Well, this was one of the few times that this question proved useless because the bartender snotted that his favorite drink was a Pabst Blue Ribbon with a Jack Daniels chaser and I should order what I liked. In both appearance and temperament he resembled that bartender Nick from It’s a Wonderful Life who doesn’t believe that Clarence is an angel.

Feeling quite grumpy, I scanned the cocktail menu quickly and ordered something called a Philadelphian, which is made with Port, applejack, and orange juice and tasted like Don Draper’s idea of candy (I mean this as a compliment).

I sat there drinking my cocktail and feeling sulky when one of the owners of the place came over and started talking to me. He was much nicer than the mean bartender, so I ordered a gazpacho, which was probably the best I’ve ever had. I ended up being glad that I didn’t storm out in a huff because the restaurant itself is really good and one snotty waiter shouldn’t spoil the whole experience.

7. Margarita and tongue tacos at Xochitl

Xochitl (pronounced so-cheet) is a really tasty Mexican restaurant on S. 2nd St. The waitress was charming, told me about their margarita special that evening and suggested the tongue tacos, which were divine. I should have stopped here and eaten no more, but after two big drinks, I guess I didn’t have the sense to stop.

8. Elderflower vodka and honeysuckle lemonade with canape sampler at James

James was a restaurant on S. 8th St. that has since closed. The waitress was just as lovely as the one at Xochitl. She sat me at the bar and I ordered a tiny canapé sampler (highlight was one perfectly cooked snail) and a really refreshing cocktail that I probably should have said no to.

After this, I took a Night Bus tour of Philly, which featured a stop at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, where the tour guide invited us to run up the stairs like Rocky. I wasn’t going to do this because I thought it seemed cheesy, but then I realized that I would probably never have the opportunity again to drink three cocktails and then run up the Rocky stairs, so I did. I didn’t fall or anything, so I think of this as a small victory.

9. Appetizer sampler and rose at Fork

At the end of the tour I couldn’t decide quite what to do and so I decided that I needed a 4th dinner. I went to the Big Girl version of Fork and had their appetizer sampler and a glass of rose. Fork is an amazing restaurant but I was too stuffed to the gills to appreciate any of the deliciousness. I’ll have to go back at a time where I can let this be my only dinner of the evening. I seemed to have been under the throes of a demented impulse to EMBRACE LIFE and EAT EVERYTHING and BECOME QUITE ILL.

10. Baked eggs at La Reserve

The next morning I was in much physical and mental pain, having blown half my budget for the trip on food the night before, and could barely eat my delicious baked eggs in cream. This time I shared my breakfast with a timid young couple from Indianapolis, a really nice couple of professors from Poland, and a silent Australian gentleman (think Geoffrey Rush, not Russell Crowe).

11. Shrimp, salad, and bottled water at Waterworks

That morning, I went to the splendatious Barnes Foundation and then planned to see the Philadelphia Museum of Art after lunch. My Frommer’s told me that Waterworks was a good place to get lunch. The setting is gorgeous, just behind the Museum of Art and right on the Schuylkill, with its hidden corpses and beautiful views.

Unhappy for me, this was a Sunday and the only meal they were serving was an all you can eat brunch, so my plan to order something small was out. In the end, I spent way too much money on a plate of (very tasty) boiled shrimp and salad. I'll have to come back and try one of the made to order omelettes and delicious looking baked goods.

The coolest thing about Waterworks is that they have a Water List, which is like a Wine List except that it features many different kinds of bottled water. I had a fizzy one from Spain that the waiter recommended and it did a lot to settle my stomach.

12. Hydrox cookie ice cream at Franklin Fountain

That night I simply could not eat dinner, so instead I stopped at this olde tyme looking soda shoppe on Market Street. I supped on a creamy dish of Hydrox Cookie ice cream (which is a lot like cookies and cream) and felt even better than I did after my Spanish fizzy water.

13. Veggie and cheese omelet with chicken sausage at Carman’s Country Kitchen

The next morning my tummy had recovered and I was ready to go back to munching my way through Philly. I stopped at this tiny and hilarious restaurant on S. 11th Street.

The place is run by Carman herself and she is a very charming woman, with a unique collection of phallic objects, who only serves four options, a French toast, a pancake, an omelet, and a special. The nature of these options changes weekly, I believe. You have the option of choosing the food with or without her suggested meat pairing (I opted in) but she doesn’t make any substitutions or changes to her food.

I sat at the counter next to an older regular from New Jersey, who started talking baseball with Carman’s son, who works behind the counter. The customer rooted for the Yankees, the son for the Phillies, and of course I mentioned that I cheer on the Braves.

“We like the Braves here!” the son said. “We always know they’ll lose in the playoffs. One less team to worry about!” Oh ha ha! A joke about how the Braves fall apart in post-season is so original! Why not just make a joke about how attendance figures for Turner Field suck because everyone in Georgia is too busy worrying about Yellow Jackets vs. Bulldogs?

However, I can take a good-natured bit of ribbing and certainly the omelet was worth having to listen to a Phillies Phan. I definitely want to go back here the next time I’m in the city.

14. Cheesesteak at Geno’s

I strolled through the Italian Market, which was mostly closed for Labor Day, and finally managed to snag a cheesesteak from Geno’s. Geno’s and Pat’s are the two big cheesesteak rivals, and are conveniently located right across the street from each other, but Frommers says Geno’s is better, so I went here.

Since you asked, I got mine with onions and Cheese Whiz and it was warm and delicious, though the meat was hardly of an extraordinary quality. Surely Cheese Whiz was designed to be put on the cheesesteak? It is the only good use the cheese-flavored liquid plastic can possibly be put to.

15. Honey and lavender gelato at Capogiro

The last thing I ate in Philly was a scoop of delicious honey and lavender gelato at Capogiro Gelato on S. 20th St. which, like many restaurants in Philadelphia, subscribes to a local, organic aesthetic. I think it’s funny that Philly has attracted so many chefs who care about healthy eating when the city is best known for the heart-attack-on-a-bun that is the cheesesteak.

I think we all can agree that I ate not wisely but too well in Philadelphia and while I enjoyed most of it, on this trip I did learn to pace myself in the future and not try to eat everything that a city has to offer.

In Which I Have A Stalker And That Isn't Hyperbole But A Mere Statement Of Fact

2011-08-04T09:51:00.000-07:00

What follows is a sort of cautionary tale for travelers, especially those of the female persuasion. The last thing I want to do is engage in some sort of stupid round of victim blaming but I do want to take some sort of lesson from the unfortunate ending of my trip to Japan. While I in no way feel that I deserve what happened, it did teach me this valuable bit of advice, which I want to pass on to you.

ESPECIALLY WHEN TRAVELING, KEEP YOUR PERSONAL INFORMATION CONCEALED AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE.

This goes for my gentleman readers as well, since, although they may be less likely to be targeted by stalkers, they are just as capable of being victims of identity theft, fraud, or other crimes.

Anyway, here’s the tale itself. I was super tired when I arrived at JFK the following evening and I was barely functional on the train ride home. I managed to lug my suitcase upstairs and crash into bed, not very gracefully.

The next evening, I was awoken at 2 in the morning by a text message from an unfamiliar number that said “Hello!” and used my full name, which is a little bizarre since everyone who knows me personally calls me by a nickname. He asked me what I was doing but refused to reveal who he was.

I thought at first he might be The Vegan, but I hadn’t given that guy my number, he wouldn’t have called me by my full name, and this didn’t seem like something he would do. Finally I said that if he wouldn’t tell me who he was, I would stop communicating with him. This was his response:

“Don’t b mad! I was the guy sitting next to you on the train leaving JFK. I got your number off your luggage tag. :)”

Here was my response in my head: “AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Here was my actual response: “Go away.”

“Don’t b like that!” he said. “Don’t u remember me? I was the tall guy sitting next 2 u.”

Here’s the thing, I was so tired on that train ride that I wouldn’t have noticed if Matt Damon had been sitting next to me. And if this guy was Matt Damon, then I want to let Mr. Damon know that even though he is really dreamy, this kind of behavior will not stand.

I strongly suspect that the gentleman in question wasn’t Matt Damon, though. And the thought that some stranger I couldn’t even identify in a police lineup had my number and possibly my home address, which was also on the luggage tag, terrified me. Although this did explain why he used my full name--I have it listed that way on my luggage tag cause it matches my passport.

“I have no idea what you are talking about,” I told him. “Stop contacting me or I will call the cops.”

“Don’t b rude!” (Yes, he for real told me not to be rude.) “I just think u r so cute.”

“You are scaring me,” I told him, “I have a boyfriend and if you ever try to contact me again, I will call the cops. I am completely serious.”

OK, so the boyfriend thing isn’t true, but for some reason, telling a creep that you are off the market is often the only thing that will get him to leave you alone. I think it helps him feel less rejected or something. I was also banking on the fact that this guy seemed to be under the delusion that we’d had a connection on the subway and didn’t actually want to frighten me.

Anyway, I immediately called my dad and told him about what happened and also warned my roommate. I also kept all of the texts—better safe than sorry, I always think. I never heard from the guy again, thank God, though I did remove my luggage tag the next day, just so this couldn’t happen again.

For my male readers, I hope that you don’t need to be told this, but it is never, never ok to steal the personal information of someone you have had no contact with, not even a hello, and use said stolen intel to try to communicate her in the dead of night. Even if your intentions are of the purest snow, this will scare the living bejeezus out of her, which, I hope, is not the response you are looking for.

This experience, unpleasant as it was, did not put me off of traveling in the slightest. Over the course of the next year, I visited Philadelphia, Minneapolis, Cold Spring, NY, Rio de Janeiro, Orlando, San Juan, Paris and Normandy, New Orleans, and New Mexico. I want to get through blogging these trips over the course of the next month, so that I will then be all caught up to today and can write about my new trips. For this reason, my posts about these travels will be more like lists of the highlights, and less like travel diary entries, but I hope they will be enjoyable nonetheless.

In conclusion, here are my

Approximately Top Five Favorite Things About My Trip to Japan

1. My favorite thing about the whole trip: Getting to practice my Japanese among actual Japanese speakers and in general gaining the confidence that comes with navigating a foreign and unfamiliar country successfully by oneself.

2. My favorite part of Takayama: THIS

3. My favorite part of Kyoto: The entire neighborhood of Arashiyama, which was easily my favorite part of Japan.

4. My favorite activity: That fabulous mutation of America’s National Pastime that is Japanese baseball.

5. My favorite part of Tokyo: Asakusa (for shopping, shabu shabu, and Senso-ji)

6. My favorite museum: The wonders of the Ghibli museum

7. My favorite thing about Japan in general: The Japanese transit system, truly the most convenient I have ever experienced

8. My favorite meal: Everything about my lunch at Minoko, but especially the lacquer box in which my food was presented

9. My favorite souvenir: the owl that I bought in Takayama

OK, I need to stop because this is about to become an Approximately Top Ten. Thanks so much for following me on my trip to Japan. Next stop: Labor Day Weekend 2010 in Philly. Why do I love Philadelphia so much? Who makes the best cheesesteak? Does God really hate the Phillies? Stay tuned and find out!

In Which Celine Dion Gives Me The Strength I Need To Cross The Street

2011-08-03T15:08:00.000-07:00

The next morning, I took the morning train from Kyoto to Tokyo. As I say goodbye to this most magical of Japanese cities, it is time for my

Approximately Top Five Favorite Things About Kyoto

1. The bamboo groves of Arashiyama
2. Everything that I ate and yet could not identify at Minoko.
3. The orange awesomeness that is Kiyomizudera, but especially the womb of the bodhissatva thing.
4. That crazy estate belonging to the silent film star, especially those magnificent views
5. Finally eating okonomiyaki, my geeky heart’s desire
6. The felines at Maruyama Koen
7. The vegan pizza at the Irish pub (but only because of the storytelling value)

It was a smooth, smooth ride on the bullet train and I got to Tokyo Station at noon. My flight left at 9:30 that evening and I wanted to get to the airport well ahead of time, so I booked a ticket for the 5:30 train to the airport. This left me with 5 and a half hours to get done absolutely as much as possible in my last day in Japan. I stuffed my suitcase in a locker and threw myself forward into the city, prepared for the pelting of a lifetime. Let’s see how much I managed to accomplish.

1. I ate eel prepared five ways.

My guidebook suggested a restaurant called Anago Tamai, which was near the station and specialized in anago, which is sea eel. I ordered the bento box lunch, which featured five different preparations of eel. One was grilled, one was like sushi, one was cooked in, I believe, rice wine, and I have forgotten the last.

My favorite was the eel broth, which was made like fish broth, by boiling the bones of an eel. It was all scrumptious and the waitress told me my Japanese was very good which made it even more scrumptious. Next to Atelier Joel Robuchon, this was my favorite restaurant in Tokyo.

2. I completed a walking tour of Kagurazaka.

Kagurazaka is one of the few areas of Tokyo that still has any old structures left after the bombing during World War II. The WWII bombings are one reason that Japan is so full of modern structures; they simply had no choice but to rebuild after the war.

Interestingly, Kyoto was not really bombed during World War II, largely because the US Secretary of War at the time, Henry Stinson, was enamored of the city and wished it to be spared. This reminded me of the stories one hears about Savannah and how it was too lovely and charming a city for Sherman to burn down so instead he gave it to Lincoln as a present. So I guess in this scenario, Tokyo is the Atlanta and Kyoto is the Savannah.

Anyway, I loved the experience of wandering around little cobblestone streets and seeing tiny shrines right in the middle of ultra modern Tokyo. I imagine this is the very reason LP suggested the area for a walking tour.

3. I ate a custard bun with a little girl’s face printed on it.

At the end of the walking tour, my guidebook directed me to a pastry shop called Fujiya. Like many Japanese stores (and many American stores, come to think of it) Fujiya has an adorable mascot designed to be associated with its products. Even the internet cafe that I joined in Tokyo earlier had a frog mascot.

In this case, the mascot is an adorable little girl named Peko-chan and her face is printed in black on all the little buns that the store sells. They have red bean and custard. I chose custard and it was quite creamy and fresh, like a lighter version of a custard filled Krispy Kreme.

4. I listened to some teenage Japanese buskers.

The tour stopped by Iidabashi station and there was a band of college age kids getting ready to perform to a captive audience of locals. I can’t remember anything that they played, although I don’t believe that they were very good, but I do recall the experience of lazily munching my custard bun, listening to the kids jam, and wishing that I had done a semester abroad in Tokyo.

Kyoto is certainly a more special place than Tokyo and Takayama is far lovelier, but I found myself feeling that Tokyo was one of the very few cities aside from New York in which I could see myself living for a while. I can't wait to go back.

5. I looked at some interesting architecture along Omote-Sando, including a giant beehive.

There was not much more time to be contemplative, however, as I had one more walking tour to do. My Tokyo guidebook had a tour of some of the architectural highlights of the high fashion street Omote-sando. Apparently a lot of the buildings there are destinations in and of themselves because of their unusual appearances. I passed the Louis Vuitton building, the Hanae Mori building, and the Comme des Garcons building.

My favorite was the Prada building, natch, which looks like a beehive. It’s hard to describe but the whole exterior is covered in this very cool honeycombed bubble glass. I’m not a huge fan of modern architecture, but this was one of the best modern buildings I have ever seen.

Also, I saw two girls in sailor uniforms stopping to pray at a shrine right on Omote-sando. Religious expression is so different in Japan than it is in the States. Have you ever seen two people who were not obviously insane stopping to pray publically in the middle of 5th avenue? The very fact that they were doing that would make me think they were crazy. (And I say this as someone who goes to a church right on 5th.)

6. I made it across Shibuya Crossing, aided by the dulcet tones of Celine Dion.

I had it very clearly in my mind what I wanted my last event in Tokyo to be. There is a famous four way intersection near Omote-sando called Shibuya crossing. It is kind of like Times Square, only with more pedestrian traffic. There are screens all around, sometimes showing footage of people on the street below, and there are speakers playing loud music. Anyway, all I wanted to do was run down to Shibuya Crossing, cross the street, and then go catch my train to the airport.

I ran all the way down to Shibuya Crossing, humming the Rocky theme to myself, and eagerly anticipating my future success in crossing this world famous street. I got to the corner and sure enough, the four corners of Shibuya Crossing were teaming with a seething cross-section of humanity, just as I had expected. I waited impatiently for the light to change so I could finally achieve my goal.

Then, you’re not going to believe this but I swear it happened, just as the light changed, I hear “YOU’RE HERE! THERE’S NOTHING I FEAR! AND I KNOW THAT MY HEART WILL GO ON!” blasting across the speaker system. It was too perfect. I had to burst out laughing. A couple of people turned to stare at me, but I'm sure it's just cause they don't know the real meaning of The Heart of the Ocean. And as I made that triumphant march across the street, Celine Dion was right there with me, letting me know that though I was leaving Japan, her heart would go on, somehow.

7. I missed my first train to the airport and had a mini panic attack about not making my flight on time.

Not only did I only miss my train by a matter of minutes, but I also misread the board and accidentally got on the wrong train. Lucky for me, the attendant was able to explain to me where I should go to get the next train to the airport.

I then had to explain why I was taking the 6:30 train to the airport when my ticket was for the 5:30 train—I managed to burble out the feeble excuse that I had been mistaken. I didn’t know how to explain the myriad events of the day in Japanese. It was fortunate that the ticket collector was kind enough to chuckle and let me remain on board.

I feel pretty proud of all I managed to accomplish on my last day in Tokyo. I thought that all my adventures were behind me and indeed the trip back home was uneventful enough, save for one eerie occurrence that I will save for my next, and last, blog post on my voyage to Japan.

In Which I Reveal Myself To Be Totally Heartless

2011-08-02T10:51:00.000-07:00

I have had some difficulty writing this section because it involves writing about another person, who presumably has feelings. I decided to go ahead and tell this story because I know he won't read this blog, I didn't use his name, and most importantly because writers are cruel and heartless people who ruthlessly consume the emotions of others for breakfast.

Approximately Five Fun Things About My Last Night in Japan

1. My fan

I spent most of the evening faffing about Downtown Kyoto, looking at the various shops, and eventually buying a lovely lavender fan from one of the shops in the covered arcade at Sanjo-dori. This quasi-indoor street has just about every kind of shop you can imagine and though lots of stuff here is tacky, I trust your judgment enough to advise you to run free among the shops and pick a souvenir that you’ll enjoy. The shop I frequented sold only fans that seemed carefully crafted so I decided this was suitably non-tacky.

2. Pontocho

Pontocho is an adorable little side street that doesn’t allow any vehicles. The street is super super tiny and if you are holding hands with a loved one, you may feel a little cramped.

Pontocho has lots of tiny clubs and restaurants, some tackier than others. You can generally spot the tourist traps because they have big English language signs. My favorite thing I saw on this street was a little window with what appeared to be a shrine to Doris Day.

I mean, right? What’s this about? But surely if any American deserves a shrine, it’s the classy Ms. Day, so hats off to her.

3. Ozawa

Ozawa is a charming little restaurant near Pontocho that specializes in tempura. Every day, they fry up a different batch of the stuff, according to what is fresh, and then serve about nine different pieces of the tempura specials of the day to their guests. It also came with miso soup, pickles, and tea.

The tempura in Japan is 80,000 times better than any tempura I have had in the States. So light! The breading is just perfect and the pieces were not oily at all. I can’t remember every single thing that I ate but my favorites were the scallop and the mushroom, which still were appropriately meaty and flavorful beneath the breading.

4. A GEISHA

So lots of fake geishas wander the streets of Kyoto during the day. In fact, if you want, you can get yourself made up as a geisha and wander around and get your picture taken. There are only a couple hundred real geisha left and they only come out at night to perform at parties.

I feel that it should go without saying that geishas aren’t prostitutes, they are performers trained in dance and traditional music who perform at tea ceremonies and other occasions. Sometimes geisha schools hold dance concerts for outsiders to witness but other than that, geisha sightings by Westerners are pretty rare.

Anyway, I think I saw a real geisha running to work as I was leaving the restaurant. All I saw was her back, but she was all dressed up and running delicately on her toes with her head down, as if she didn’t want to be seen. Ozawa is on a very beautiful street called Shirakawa-minami-dori (say that three times fast) and the swift and secretive geisha only added to its beauty. If I had only ended the evening here, it would have been a perfect conclusion to my last full day in Japan.

Sadly, I didn’t do that. I wanted to check out some karaoke before I left, so I followed the guidebook’s instructions to a building that may possibly have led me into the twilight zone, given what followed.

Approximately Five Things I Learned That Evening That I Never Particularly Needed to Learn.

1. There are a surprising number of fake pubs in Kyoto.

In fact, instead of a karaoke joint, I found a fake pub called The Pig and Whistle. According to LP, this place is popular among English speaking expats. I decided that since I was there, I might as well stick around.

2. Japanese girls love Guinness.

I asked the Japanese bartenders, in Japanese, to recommend a beer for me. Specifically, I asked which beer was the best. According to all the Japanese girls behind the counter? “Guinness desu yo!” I was hoping for a Japanese brew but I guess they wanted to give me an authentic pub experience so I stuck by their recommendation and got an Irish beer from a fake English pub almost entirely populated by young Japanese people.

3. I am capable of doing something completely stupid and ridiculous on purpose.

I spotted a young blond guy sitting by himself. I don’t see well from a distance, so I couldn’t tell how cute he was, but something possessed me to see if I could get him to come over and talk to me. I have never in my life tried to pick up a guy in a bar, because mostly guys in bars are creepy and gross or with their girlfriends, but hey, there’s a first time for everything. My attempts mostly involved looking at him, looking away and walking around the room in a nonchalant manner.

4. Sometimes doing completely stupid and ridiculous things works out.

Much to my surprise, this worked. As I was leaving the bar, he came up to me and asked me in an American accent if I spoke English. He wasn’t as cute as I thought he was originally (and was sporting a stupid goatee) and I was tempted to respond in French and walk away but I didn’t. He asked me if I wanted to go to a different fake pub and I said fine. I mean, usually I don’t walk off with strangers, but whatever. I was pretty sure I could take this guy.

5. You can get vegan pizza in Kyoto.

The blond guy revealed himself to be a vegan, ordered a vegan pizza at the bar, and spent most of the evening talking about how his Finnish ex-girlfriend broke his heart and how hard it is to get vegan food in Kyoto. I sometimes feel that I can be too particular, but I promise that every girl has her own list of qualities which she prefers her suitors to not possess.

In the unlikely event you are looking to court me, the three things you should not say are:

“Oh, I never touch animal products.” (Food is too important to me to date someone with so many dietary restrictions.)

“The Fountainhead is my favorite book!” (This needs no explanation, but indicates a lack of both political and aesthetic judgment.)

“Please touch my luxurious facial hair.” (This is a round-about way of saying that I prefer the clean shaven look.)

Anyway, this guy failed on two counts, though to his credit, he did not appear to be an aficionado of Ayn Rand.

Anyway, in the interests of mercy, I will not disclose much more about the events of the evening. Despite the fact that there was no romance in store for me at the pseudo-pub, I certainly don’t regret getting a drink with the Vegan. It was a new experience and now I can always tell a story about the time I had vegan pizza at a fake Irish pub my last night in Kyoto.

In Which I Finally Fall in Love With Kyoto, Just Like Everyone Said I Would

2011-08-01T12:24:00.000-07:00

As it has been almost a year since my trip to Kyoto, I regret to inform my vast readership that some of the details of the trip are a little fuzzy. I’m going to limit my telling of my travel tales, in the future, to the Approximately Top Five favorite things I did that day, in order to get up to date in my travels as soon as possible. Also, I feel like writing, “And then I saw this temple, but I don’t remember very much about it,” over and over is going to get boring for both of us.

My Approximately Top Five Favorite Things On My Last Day In Kyoto

1. Doutor Coffee

Before I set out for the day, I finally found the perfect place to have breakfast, since my hotel didn’t serve any. It was part of a chain called Doutor Coffee and it was only a few short blocks to the south of my hotel.

Doutor Coffee serves something magical called a “morning set”, which is coffee and a breakfast sandwich. I had the egg salad one morning and the shrimp salad the next but even I wasn’t brave enough to try the hot dog for breakfast. Japan does not have great coffee in general, and I was getting by on the canned stuff from vending machines, but Doutor’s is pretty good and the sandwiches were satisfying, especially since they were on that fluffy Japanese bread.

Also, I have no idea how to pronounce Doutor or what it means. All I know is that Doutor can’t possibly be a Japanese word. (The only Japanese letter that can end a word with a consonant is “N”.)

2. The Bamboo Grove

My last day in Kyoto was spent in the region of Arashiyama, which is removed from the main part of the city and required a 40 minute bus ride from the main part of Kyoto. This area turned out to be my favorite part of the city largely due to this fabulous and famous bamboo grove.

You can see from my picture how lovely the grove is, but I cannot replicate the feel of walking through it. It was a totally magical experience. I love Harry Potter and Narnia as much as the next girl, but every once in a while it’s nice to be reminded of all the real magic that there is in the world. Just the fact that a plant can grow into this size and shape fills me with a pleasant amount of awe.

I feel somewhat foolish recommending that you fly around the globe just to walk underneath some vegetation, but if you ever get the opportunity to go to Arashiyama, just do it. You won’t regret it.

3. Okochi-Sanso Villa

If it weren’t for the bamboo, this would have been my favorite part of the day. This villa used to belong to a Japanese silent film star named Okochi Denjiro, who retired from acting, became a devout Buddhist, and built this property in the mountains so he could meditate properly.

There’s a 1000 yen admission fee, but you get a pretty postcard of the villa (mine had fall foliage on it) and some green tea and a light sweet in the tea room. It is entirely worth the price of admission even without the goodies because the view is sick. Look at that.

I cannot imagine waking up to this action every morning. I would get up every day and greet the dawn by twirling around and singing, “The hills are alive with the sound of muuuuuusic!” I didn’t realize there was so much money in silent film but there must have been because otherwise, how could some actor I have never even heard of afford a place like this.

4. Adashino Nembutsu-ji

This place makes my list for its strangeness more than anything else. It is a temple devoted to the graves of the poor. These stone figures that I have photographed are there to mark where they are buried, since the names of the people themselves were unknown.

As the dead were unknown and unclaimed, there is no one to pray for them, so once a year there is a ceremony dedicated to praying for the paupers of Adashino and worshippers come and light candles. I think that’s really beautiful. Oftentimes, we think of the poor as not needing anything after they die, but just imagining what it would be like to die totally alone and forgotten makes me wish we made more of an effort to pray for the unknown dead in this country too.

5. Minoko

After the temple, I went back to Southern Higashiyama for a very late lunch. Kyoto is famous for its kaiseki ryori, or Japanese haute cuisine, which is very complex and comes in multiple exquisite courses, just like French haute cuisine. I couldn’t afford a big fancy dinner, so I went to a restaurant called Minoko for a fancy lunch bento instead. This was sort of like the poor girl’s kaiseki ryori.

Everything about this meal was exquisite and I only wish I’d been better about documenting everything that I ate. The service was perfectly elegant and the tea kept flowing all afternoon long. As I did in the imaginary tea shop, I sat on a pillow on the floor in front of a low table. Word to the Westerner: if you’re not used to sitting like this, your foot may fall asleep. Mine did, several times.

I had miso soup to begin with, with tiny little mushrooms. Then a big lacquer box was brought out, with one tray set on top of another. Each compartment of the tray was filled with a different yummy dish, everything from sushi to noodles to various preparations of Japanese vegetables that I am sadly unable to identify. It was hard to decide which was better, the artful presentation or the delectable delicacy of the food.

At the end of the meal, I had my sweet wagashi, which tasted like the world’s best maple sugar candy, and headed back out into the Kyoto rain. I vowed that the next time I was in Kyoto, I would have a real kaiseki ryori meal. If this was a half version, I couldn’t wait for the real thing.

In Which I Experience Untold Horrors

2011-07-31T14:38:00.000-07:00

An Amusing Anecdote From My Childhood

In my family we have our own verb for running around and seeing as many things as possible. We call this action pelting. My first cousin-once-removed on my mother’s side is a champion pelter. One week she and her family came to visit New York City and in one incredibly hectic day we went to the top of the Statue of Liberty, had lunch at Katz’s, went to the Natural History Museum, had dinner at Mama Leone’s, and saw CATS.

Afterwards, I went to spend the night with my cousins at their hotel room. We ordered in a late night pizza and then went to see a midnight showing of Cinderella.

If you are one of a very select few, like my aforementioned cousin, you can keep up this champion pelting pace as long as you will. Some of us mere mortals, however, will need to stop and take a breather occasionally.
This is a rather long way of getting to my main point, which is to say that I learned yet another Important Life Lesson on my second afternoon in Kyoto, which was this: Never Do Two Walking Tours in One Day. You’ll just get rushed and cranky and sad.

Even though I had a lot of fun in Southern Higashiyama, I still didn’t get to see everything that I wanted to see and I felt the time pressure, big-time. Better to be able to spend some quality time at a few special places than try to jam an entire city in one hour.

It is my personal belief that the travel gods chose to curse me for my hubris in thinking that I could complete two walking tours in one day. I know of no other way to explain why the afternoon took an increasingly Gothic and sinister turn. My evidence is as follows.

1. I descended into the dark womb of a female Bodhissatva and fumbled my way around in the darkness until I came upon a stone that would grant my dearest wish.

This is both totally true and the least terrifying thing that happened. Most of my afternoon was spent at the truly entertaining Kiyomizu-dera temple. The front of this temple contains the entranceway to the aforementioned figurative womb of the Bodhissatva, otherwise known as the Tainai-meguri. It costs an extra 100 yen but I think that’s totally worth it.

Aside from this dark chamber of feminine wonders, the temple features a Shinto shrine called Jishu-jinja, or the Love Shrine, which promises that you’ll find the love you are seeking if you are able to walk from one stone to another with your eyes closed. Did I give it a shot or did I pass? I’ll never tell.

There is also a sacred spring with healing waters (which makes sense since mizu is Japanese for water) and most of my time at Kiyomizu was spent waiting in line in order to be able to get a dipper full of the stuff. I wasn’t sure if this was crossing a line into something that a non-Buddhist shouldn’t do, but I decided that this seemed to be something that everyone who visited the temple participated in, so it didn’t feel disrespectful.

2. Twice, I almost fainted dead away. Also, I possibly hallucinated a tea shop.

Healing water aside, the day was really, really hot and I was hungry and thirsty. The walking tour suggested stopping for an iced dessert at a tea shop called Kasagi-ya. This place is a short walk away from the temple, down some winding streets and the guide warned that it was hard to find.

They weren’t kidding. I wandered around for close to an hour trying to find it. There was no sign on the door and I found the map difficult to read. The street signs were beginning to swim in front of my eyes and I was concerned that I was close to collapsing in a swoon on the hot cobblestones of Kyoto. I decided that any food was better than fainting in public in a strange city, so I picked an adorable looking tea shop with pillows and low tables set up on the floor.

This may or may not have been Kasagi-ya. It may or may not have actually existed, and I may have just pantomimed eating an uji kintoki (ice covered with green tea powder, condensed milk, and red bean paste). In which case, I’m very sorry, denizens of Kyoto, if I frightened any of you. Real or not, the uji kintoki was very delicious and refreshing.

It was not, however, filling. I felt my energy flagging as I stumbled the rest of the way on the walking tour and managed to drag my tired feet to Maruyama Koen, a truly lovely park just a few feet away from the Gion shopping district. It was just like being back in Central Park, near 5th Ave, except that Maruyama is much smaller and more immaculately groomed. There were little bridges around delicate streams, a group of Japanese film students shooting a project, and, most delightfully, several adorable and well groomed cats wandering about. Every park should have cats!

I spent quite a bit of time in this park, getting my center back, and preparing for the evening. I decided to check out my THIRD walking tour for the day and see Gion at night, which is supposed to be one of the highlights of a trip to Kyoto. There are lots of interesting stores all along Shijo-dori, including ones devoted to selling plastic models of desserts, or fans, or whatever your heart desires. I whiled away the early evening by doing much window shopping, but the only purchase I made was of a teeny Hello Kitty geisha charm for my bracelet.

3. I confronted a terrifying spectre of my imminent demise.

As night fell and I turned a corner, I saw a tragically familiar face. It was none other than the Spanish gentleman from the hotel in Tokyo. The first time I saw him was pleasant enough, the second time was mildly irritating, but this time, my blood literally turned cold. There was something about running into him three times that I found horrifying in a way I cannot quite put into words. He shouted, “HELLOOOO!” and I immediately turned and ran in the opposite direction.

Sir, if you are reading this blog, which I’m sure you are not, I apologize for running. It was only because I had become very, very afraid of the sight of your face.

After that, the only thing to do to calm my nerves was eat. The guidebook suggested an okonomiyaki place called Issen Yoshoku, and I had decided to go there for the evening. Okonomiyaki are Japanese pancakes that can be covered with all sorts of toppings, like sauce, veggies, fish, really anything that you can put on a pizza you can put on an okonomiyaki.

I wanted to eat one ever since reading the manga Ranma ½, because it features a character who actually uses okonomiyaki in combat. Like, imagine an martial artist who used pizza as her weapon. That’s what this character is like.

Sadly, no one at Issen Yoshoku tried to duel me using okonomiyaki. The waitress merely asked me if I was ok with her putting everything on my okonomiyaki and I said that I was. The pancake was fluffy and flavorful and the toppings were salty and delicious. It’s much lighter than pizza and I do hope okonomiyaki comes to the States someday like so many other kinds of street food. It’s definitely a snack I could get used to.

In Which I Reference Plato Twice Even Though I Bet He Never Went To Kyoto Once

2011-07-26T10:46:00.000-07:00

The next day, I was able to set out for Northern Higashiyama, very quickly and foolishly without eating breakfast. Tthis time, I was sure I could fit in all the temples. I turned out to be right, but the day had so much more in store for me. Here are some words and phrases I learned the definition of while I was getting to know Kyoto.

1. Aqueduct

Lonely Planet says that the beautiful (and totally free) temple Nanzen-ji has a hidden shrine. All you have to do to find it is follow the road that goes past the aqueduct. Only problem? I had no clue what an aqueduct was. Something to do with water? So basically I wasted a lot of time trying to get up the nerve to ask an English speaking tourist was an aqueduct was until I finally figured out that it had to be one of those arched bridgey things towards the back of the temple grounds.

I’m actually not quite sure that this is an aqueduct. It was just a lucky guess. If I’m wrong, please let me know in the comments and then laugh at me a lot. The secret shrine was well worth the public humiliation that this post may bring on my head, though. It was located in a grotto in an extremely peaceful section of the forest that surrounds the temple. A tiny waterfall flowed nearby. It was the platonic ideal of meditation spots.

Unfortunately, other tourists with secret knowledge of aqueducts were right behind me, so I had no time to meditate on the meaning of life and man’s inhumanity to man.

2. Kitsune Udon

I don’t know what aqueducts are, but I do know what a kitsune is. It is Japanese for fox. So imagine my surprise and horror when I arrived at Hinode Udon (the same place that had slammed its door in my face the night before) and found kitsune udon on the menu. Were there cut up pieces of fox on the warm noodles? How gross/potentially delicious! But no, the waitress explained to be that there is tofu on the udon instead. Not sure what tofu has to do with foxes!

The waitress also asked me if I wanted udon or soba noodles for lunch. For those of you not in the noodle know, udon are light wheat noodles and soba are buckwheat noodles. Both are quite delicious, but I wanted to stick with udon because it was in the name of the restaurant, so I figured it was a specialty.Anyway, I had nabeyaki udon, which comes with seafood and vegetables on top as well as broth. It was very similar to my ramen except that the noodles here were more flavorful and tasted more like pasta than the thinner ramen.

I also learned something new when the maître d’ of the restaurant wrote my name down on his list, using only the character for “foreign”. I was tempted to tell him, “Yes, I am a foreigner”, remain just long enough to see the look of shock on his face, and then storm out. But the siren call of udon proved too strong for this. By the way, this was the same man who had closed the door in my face earlier, so I am inclined to believe that this guy is the only rude man in all of Japan and has just given some of his fellow countrymen a bad rep.

3. Path of the Philosopher

This sounds like a self-help book, or a particularly pretentious Japanese video game to me. Yet, it is neither. It is an actual path that winds through Northern Higashiyama. The path follows a canal and is covered with arching trees, which are supposed to be lovely in the spring, when the cherry blossoms are in bloom.

It was also lovely in the summer, but very hot. I have no intention of posting photos of myself here but rest assured that my hair was frizzy like a frizzy thing. I drank so much green tea that I could feel the health benefits coursing through my veins. I strongly recommend staying well fed and hydrated if you’re wandering around Kyoto in the scorching August sun.

According to Lonely Planet, the path got its name because a philosopher named Nishida Kitaro liked to walk here. I think it’s a perfect name because the peaceful shade of the trees, as well as the babbling of the water nearby, provide a perfect background for reflection. There is also a small temple located a few steps away from the main path that is great for further meditation. I know that I solved Zeno’s Paradox in the first mile alone. By the end of the walk, I fully understood how to best institute the governing principles outlined in Plato’s Republic. I’m not going to share these insights with you, though. Have to save something for the book.

4. Silver

Before coming to Kyoto, I thought that silver was a shiny substance, not quite as valuable as gold, but still appealingly pale, almost moonbeam-colored. That is what I was expecting to see when I approached the Silver Pavillion or Ginkaku-ji. Instead, I saw a gorgeous pagoda in white and brown, but no silver to be seen.

This is because in Kyoto, silver doesn’t mean silver, it means “not gold”. The more famous Golden Pavillion or Kinkaku-ji, in Northwest Kyoto, is in fact golden colored. The Silver Pavilion does feature some wonderful gardens and lovely sand formations in the shape of mountains. There is a long pathway that snakes through the garden, giving you a great view of the pavilion and the surrounded grounds. This pathway gets very narrow and crowded, though, so there’s not much time to explore or take pictures.

There was time to take pictures once you get close to the pavilion building and so I tried to snap a photo of myself with the structure. It is pretty easy for me to take pictures of myself, but I have a hard time getting my surroundings in the photo with me. A nice pair of Japanese girls offered to take my picture, so that made my life a little easier. After that, I wanted to avoid the crowd, so I got a postcard of the Pavilion and walked down the long path to the bus station. It was time to see if I could cram another walking tour into my day. Off to Southern Higashiyama!

In Which I Eat Three Desserts And Pretend That This Counts As Lunch And Dinner

2011-07-22T11:32:00.000-07:00

The next morning, it was time to head for my Final Destination, Kyoto. But before I get there, allow me to share:

My Approximately Top Five Favorite Things About The Japanese Alps

There! I think that makes my point nicely for me.

Now, I believe I had gotten a little cocky because by and large my trip to Takayama was very successful and I had done everything that I wished to do. Unfortunately, this success led me to believe that I was capable of taking on Kyoto in the same fast-paced way that I had conquered the Japanese Alps. Of course, as it has the tendency to do, the universe was about to prove me oh so very wrong.

As you may have noticed, I try to see the positive in every situation and so instead of focusing on what went wrong on my first day in Kyoto, I will try to focus on what I learned from my mistakes instead.

The Five Life Lessons I Learned On My First Day in Kyoto

1. Lemon Meringue Pie Is Not Lunch

This seems like an obvious lesson, but apparently I needed to learn it. I had breakfast at the Spa Hotel Alpina in Takayama, but had not eaten anything since then and it was 3 PM by the time I checked into my hotel. I wanted to grab something to eat near my hotel and the guidebook suggested, among other places, a coffee shop called Café Bibliotec Hello! Well, with a name like that, how could I possibly resist?

The shop is adorable and the coffee and lemon meringue pie were both delish. However, I should have avoided making the rookie mistake of eating what I felt like eating as opposed to eating for nourishment. A piece of pie is not enough to sustain you until dinnertime, even if it does sound appealing in the afternoon while the hot Kyoto sun is shining brightly overhead.

2. When A Guidebook Lists A Particular Time As “Closing Time”, This Really Means That You Have To Get There An Hour Beforehand At Least If You Want To Do Anything At This Place.

Now it was four PM and for some deranged reason, I thought I’d have enough time to do the walking tour of the temples in the Northern Higashiyama area, even though most of the places close by five. I really just had enough time to see the beautiful Zen garden at Konchi-in.

I feel like Zen gardens are another one of those things it’s hard to say anything not clichéd about. They’re…peaceful? Good for contemplation? I am not even slightly a visual person but what I like about Zen gardens is the clear demarcation between the areas, which provides a maximum level of awareness of the difference between the different textures and colors used in the composition of the garden. So, for example, when one is looking at the pond of carp, one is only aware of the carp and when one is looking at the rectangle of sand, one is only looking at the rectangle of sand. This kind of focusing does seem to sharpen the mind, at least it certainly sharpened mine and given what a scorching afternoon it was, that is saying something.

However, after all the contemplation at Konchi-in, there was only enough time to see a little of the next temple, Kotaku-an before 5 PM rolled around and I knew that I’d need to hustle to get to the “fuel stop” on the tour before it closed. The tour suggested getting udon noodles at a place called Hinode Udon and the restaurant supposedly closed by six. I figured I could get there easily by 5:30.

3. Food Is Necessary For Life

I DID in fact get to the restaurant by 5:45, which was just the right time to have the door closed in my face by a man who also shouted NO very loudly at me, as if I were a dog. Just because I’m not Japanese doesn’t mean that I’m stupid or deaf, Random Man at Hinode Udon! The Japanese, like the Parisians or mother-in-laws, have a reputation for being rude to outsiders, but in my experience, this was not the case. It was all the more jarring to find myself being treated so rudely here.

My guidebook listed very few restaurants in the area and one of the few it did list was “Closed for Vacation”. For real? Restaurants take vacations? Where was the restaurant going? Having had no protein since the wee small hours of the morning, I was feeling incredibly cranky and lightheaded and passing out on the streets of Kyoto was not how I wanted to spend my August. I resolved to make “Food: It’s Good For You So Please Eat Some” my new words to live by.

4. Loving Cartoon Characters As An Adult Is Not Only Not Embarrassing, It Can Be Very Useful

Just as I was running out of hope, time, and braincells, Detective Conan leaped to my rescue to face down the Men in Black of my extreme hunger. Detective Conan is not a real person, but is rather a character in a long running manga/anime series known as Detective Conan in Japan and Case Closed in this country.

Now, Detective Conan is really a teenage super-sleuth named Jimmy Kudo, but he is given a strange poison by some mysterious MIBs (Men in Black), which turns him into a small, bowtie-sporting child. He changes his name to Conan Edogawa, hides out with his girlfriend Rachel, who is a karate champ, and helps her hapless private detective father solve crimes, all the while trying to track down the Men in Black so he can get his old body back. Sound awesome? That’s cause it is.

Anyway, seeing some Conan books in a “combini” (convenience store) window drew me closer and I saw that they had some waffle ice cream for sale. This proved enough sustenance to tide me over until I could find something else. Thanks, Detective Conan!

My love for cartoon characters also proved handy at the next restaurant I approached, the organic café Kailash. They told me that they couldn’t give me a full dinner, just a snack, to which my response was “OM NOM NOM PLEASE FEED ME!” So dinner turned out to be matcha tea and wagashi, which are Japanese sweets. Mine were filled with red bean paste and were quite tasty.

Oh, how does the cartoon play into it? Well, my waitress noticed that I had a Jiji pin from Kiki’s Delivery Service on my bag and so we talked about my trip to The Ghibli Museum. I recommended it to her. I feel like an American woman in her twenties would probably not be so openly enthusiastic about her fondness for anime as this waitress was with me, but then I am an American woman in my twenties and I have no problem telling you about how much I love anime, so maybe you should just ignore me.

5. Things That Would Be Romantic If Someone You Were Into Did Them Are Often Really Unpleasant If Done By Someone You Have No Interest In

So, you’re probably not going to believe this but I swear it did happen. I was planning to walk back to my hotel from Kailash and pass out when I heard a man’s voice call out, “Helloooooooo!” I ignored it, figuring it wasn’t for me, but I was soon proved wrong. A man was running up to me and tapped me on the arm. I almost screamed, but then I realized it was that guy from Barcelona that I had met at my hotel in Tokyo. “This would be lovely if only I had ever wanted to see you again!” I thought to myself.

“It is you!” he said, because I had not told him my name, nor did I ever have any intention of doing so. In fact, I think this is good travel advice in general for single ladies: don’t be giving people your personal information. Probably he's not a psycho, but you never know. We walked together for a little bit but I told him I was tired and wanted to go so we parted company at the earliest available opportunity. I didn’t want to hang out with him, but this was in fact no lie. I was beatdown like a withered bonsai tree on a lonely crag and as soon as I arrived back at the Hotel Kinsuikan, I flopped down on my futon and promptly slept the sleep of the protein-deficient.

In Which I Prove That I Wasn't Meant To Write Songs

2011-07-11T11:14:00.000-07:00

ACT THREE: Last Bus to Takayama!

If I had to do it all over again, I would have spent two full days in the mountains, not just one. This way I could have devoted one day to seeing the sights in Takayama and the Folk Village, and one to exploring the Japanese Alps. As it was, I was only going to have about three hours to stroll around Kamikochi, the gorgeous hiking area at the base of some of Japan’s most lovely mountains.

I really wanted more time to spend in this area but the last bus back to Takayama left at 4:30 and if I didn’t make it, I’d be stuck in Kamikochi for the whole night. I made up a little song to remind myself that I couldn’t miss the last bus to Takayama. It goes like this:

Last bus to Takayama!
Last bus to Takayama!
Don’t miss the last bus to Takayama!

I didn’t say that it was a very good song, but it kept me going during those moments when I felt like lollygagging at the gorgeous scenery.

On the way to Kamikochi, the bus stopped at a way station and we had to switch buses. I had a few minutes to look at the tourist items. One of the best-selling crafts in the region are the faceless, red sarubobo dolls, dressed in blue cloth. Sarubobo means “monkey baby” and supposedly these are traditional dolls that grandmothers used to make for their grandchildren. Imagine my surprise and delight to discover that there were Hello Kitty charms for Takayama that depicted Hello Kitty dressed in a sarubobo costume AND HOLDING HER OWN LITTLE SARUBOBO. That is so meta, it makes my head hurt. The doll has her own doll! Of course, I had to have it.

The second bus took me straight to Kamikochi and like a good little traveler, I took time on the bus ride to plan my hiking path. I decided that I only had time to walk to Myojin-ike, which is a pond and the location of a shrine called Hotaka-jinja. Three hours would give me enough time to walk there, have lunch, stroll the pond, and then return in time to make The Last Bus to Takayama.

Would I make it? Could I make it? Fear not, for you shall soon see.

I know that I use hyperbole a lot on this blog. I often say that if it weren’t for sarcasm and hyperbole, I would literally never speak or write a word. However, it’s no hyperbole to say that Kamikochi is the prettiest place I have ever seen. The water is so clean; it shimmers with health and love. The weather is nice and cool, compared to the sweltering heat of Japan’s cities during August because the trees provide a sheltering canopy from the sun’s rays. In fact, as so often is the case, my words are inadequate to the task of conveying Kamikochi’s loveliness. Allow my pictures to do the talking for me.

Do I exaggerate? I think not.

Finally, I arrived at a restaurant called Kamonji-goya, right outside the sacred pond. It was famous for serving iwana (river trout) so I knew without thinking about it that I wanted the iwana lunch set. When the waiter brought me my lunch, he told me, “zenbu o tabemasu”, which means that you eat the whole thing, head to fin. Well, I did and it was salty, crisp, and delicious. As always, I am grateful for being able to eat anything yummy and enjoy it, including grilled trout heads.

I now had half an hour to spend at the pond. Spending time in Japan really made me wish that we kept the amazing natural resources in this country (America) better preserved. I’ve been to lots of national parks and I know that park rangers work hard to keep them clean, but I have never seen anything here that was this clean, ever. I had the vague and ludicrous impression that I had stepped back into the forest primeval. I haven’t been camping since I was a teenager, but I had a sudden wish that I had brought a sleeping bag and could camp out there under the stars.

Couldn’t, though! For one thing, you can’t camp at a sacred pond and two, I needed to make the Last Bus to Takayama! If this were a movie, I'd start playing "Carmina Burana" and running in slow motion, but I don't think I can replicate that experience on a blog. Just try to picture it in your mind's eye instead.

Fear not, for once in my life, I was punctual and got on the bus with five minutes to spare, but I think I left a piece of my heart back in Kamikochi.

ACT FOUR: Night Falls on Takayama

By the time I got back to Takayama, the sun was starting to set and I had nothing to do but wait to get dinner. I decided to stroll around town and look at some of the old buildings, which was not particularly memorable except…

When walking past one group of old houses, I saw a young man, sporting a shaved head and monk’s garb, run out of one of the houses on silent tiptoes, jump onto a motorcycle, and drive off into the night. Who could this man be? Where was he going? Is there a monk-only chapter of Hell’s Angels in the Japanese mountains? This mystery will surely haunt me until the end of my days.

The reason I had to wait until dinner is that I wanted to eat somewhere inexpensive and Lonely Planet suggested Jingoro Ramen, which was a shack down by the train tracks that didn’t open until 8. I kept walking past to see if it would open sooner, but no dice. I didn’t feel “unsafe” walking around Takayama at night, but I didn’t feel exactly safe either and I certainly was becoming bored. I probably should have done more research about evening options in Takayama but I didn’t see anything open at night in Takayama except a convenience store and a bank that wouldn’t take my foreign debit card.

Finally, the ramen shack opened and I was able to stuff my face. The only ladies inside the establishment were a giant woman behind the counter ladling out the broth, and myself. If anyone thought it was weird that I was there, he kept that thought to himself. I ordered the basic ramen with pork for 600 yen (a complete steal and I paid totally with coins). The woman handed it over without any fuss and I noisily slurped down the noodles.

In Japan, slurping is considered polite because it shows that you enjoyed the food. I didn’t need to fake my slurping in this case, because the ramen was perfectly steamy and flavorful. It was the platonic ideal of roadside shack food, nothing fancy but cheap and delicious, with no attention paid to the presentation. But sometimes you don't want haute cuisine. Sometimes you want a big messy bowl of noodles and broth, with haphazardly chopped up pieces of greasy beef on top.

Afterwards, I went to the hotel, onsened, and slept the dreamless sleep of someone who didn’t miss the last bus to Takayama. The next morning, I was off to Kyoto.

In Which I Claim to Buy Only Three Things But Really It Was Five Because I Have A Bit Of A Problem

2011-07-08T11:25:00.001-07:00

True to my word, I will now be focusing on the highlights of my Japanese trip, sticking to the things I feel my “readership” most needs to know. For my one day sojourn in Takayama, this basically means dividing my day into four acts, thusly:

ACT ONE: The Three Things That I Bought At The Morning Farmer’s Market

1. A peach

The Morning Markets are an important part of life in Takayama. I went to the smaller Jinya-mae first to check out the produce. I wanted to buy and eat everything but I knew that almost nothing would get approved by TSA’s restrictions on bringing liquids onto the plane. One little old lady shoved a scoop of peach jam into my hands before I could really say anything and I was forced to eat it with my face. I totally don’t recommend standing in the middle of a farmer’s market licking your palms but in this case I had no choice. I felt really bad about not being able to get the jam, so I bought a juicy peach instead.

2. Animal pins

There are many more food stalls and craftspeople who set up their stands along the gorgeous Miya-gawa River which actually, literally sparkles because it is so clean. I have never seen a river like this in my whole life. When I compare the mighty Hudson to the Miya-gawa, I want to hang my head in shame because my hometown pride and joy is so filthsome and foul in comparison.

Takayama is famous for its wood carvings of animals and I collect handmade jewelry, so when I saw a young woman with a stand of wooden carved pins, I felt that this was a match made in heaven. I especially loved that each pin was slightly different from the next, so you knew they were handmade. I bought a kitsune (fox) for myself and a tanuki (badger) for my sister. The fox and badger are both prominent creatures in Japanese mythology, which is the only reason that I knew how to say both animals.

3. A carving of an owl

The traditional wooden carvings of the Hida region are known as ittobori. They are meant to be made with local yew trees and are very smooth and intricately carved. There is a local association of woodcarvers—all the carvings that I got came with a little card saying that the craftsperson was a member of this association.

I bought a wooden owl for my apartment from a nice middle aged lady here and a wooden dragon (ryu) for my parents at a much fancier store in town called Suzuki Chokoku. I’m sure the dragon is more valuable but my teeny little owl brightens up my home sufficiently for my taste.

ACT TWO: I Build a Time Machine Out of a Local Bus

I had to sprint to the bus station to catch the 9:30 AM bus to the Hida Folk Village. The folk village is only 10 minutes away but I had lots to do and I needed to make the 12 o clock bus to Kamikochi. A round trip ticket on the bus complete with admission to the village is only 900 yen, which I think is a pretty sweet deal.

Hida Folk Village is like the Cloisters in Manhattan. It is not indigenous to the region, rather it is a group of old, traditional Japanese cottages that have all been moved to the same region so that they can be explored and preserved. Like the Cloisters, it is a beautiful place for contemplation and reflection. I do not remember the details of this place very well. My memories of the village seem to consist more of random memories of bits and snippets such as:

Koi fish, running water, thatched roofs, American who speaks Japanese much better than I do, old man carving wood, winding paths through woods, bell that no one is ringing, taking shoes off, putting shoes back on, eating my juicy peach, silence.

After about an hour of the above, I was ready to bus it back to Takayama proper and get ready to commune with nature even more intensely. With no time even to eat lunch, I was on the bus to Kamikochi.