Ladies United for the Preservation of Endangered Cocktails

So, a few weeks ago, I stopped in at Drink Boston’s celeb chef Barbara Lynch’s new temple to the cocktail. Ensconced in the city’s emerging Fort Point neighborhood, it’s brick and beamy and its basement level ambiance gives a nod to the speakeasies of yore. I ordered my personal fave, a Sidecar and then waited - and watched – and waited. Cocktails here are a serious business. There is no scooping of cubes out of a bin; the barkeeps hack and crack it off of a block. And there are all sorts of fresh herbs (all plucked from pots) muddling, mixing, stirring and shaking going on. Quite a production and fun to watch. Was it good? You betcha. Was it it the best I ever had? Nah…but it was in the top ten.

But, wait, there’s more: I just saw a picture and article, in the August 09 issue of Bon Appetit, about our bartender that evening, one Misty Kalkofen. I garnered two interesting factoids: she is a former student at Harvard Divinity School, and she founded the Boston chapter of the Ladies United for the Preservation of Endangered Cocktails. Who knew there was such a thing? It celebrates the art of classic cocktails and raises money for women’s charities. Kudos Ms. Kalkofen. Check out its website www.lupec.org to learn what its about and lots of fascinating lore – and recipes.

Misty also shared a great quote: “Who loves not woman, wine and song remains a fool his whole life long.” – Martin Luther. Love it.

Technorati Tags: Ladies United for the Preservation of Endangered Cocktails,Boston,Fort Point,Misty Kalkofen,Sidecar,Cocktails

May I Get You Something From the Bar?

Supercilious swishy waiters, incompetent waitresses with ‘tude … even badly behaving baristas... you think it's easy dining out these days? No siree Bob. Sit back while I rant, and you can indulge in a little schadenfreude

We arrived at Stella – the highly touted eatery in Boston’s chi-chi South End – and despite the fact that we presented ourselve promptly for our reservations, we were perp walked past empty tables to the back of the restaurant. Right next to the restrooms. Happens to me all the time. I don’t think I look like the lady in that ubitiquous “gotta go” commercial – well, maybe a little.

Nonetheless, I protested and we were seated in a choicer spot and settled in, eager for for drinks, catching up with our friends and dinner - in that order. A perusal of itssignature cocktail menu revealed a unique take on my fave – the Sidecar. So I was discreetly salivating as our waitress approached the table; we cocked our ears in unison for those magical words - “May I get you something from the bar?”

But noooo! She opened with “I’d like to tell you about tonight's specials," and prepared to recite a litany of ingredients and processes. Horrified, I stopped her faster than you could say "arugula" and politely (honest) told her that we would like to have drinks first. With a slight air of disdain and a moue, she responded that she would take our drink order after she told us about the specials. Now I was pissed. “Actually,” I retorted, “we really would like to have our drinks now. I’ll have a Southern Sidecar, pul-eaze.” My companions followed suit; she sulkily noted our orders and then turned on her heel.

The delivery of our forty bucks worth of libations (Stella’s word – not mine) came with a hearty serving of ‘tude which led me to question – perhaps before she was totally out of earshot – her customer service ethic. That prompted a glare from Mr. Connie, who is no milquetoast, but harbors an inordinate fear of disgruntled waitstaff spitting in his food.

Are we having fun yet?

Our round of drinks, (my Southern Sidecar - Maker's Mark bourbon shaken with lemon juice and triple sec was delish)– improved our collective mood. And we placed our dinner orders with our still petulant waitress. After that she was done with us.

Our starters and entrees were served nicely by a food runner; but try and get a little fresh ground pepper for our beet and goat cheese salads or a bit of grated cheese for my tagliatelle bolognese – no luck. Although I must say, everything we had was excellent- not that anyone ever asked. My husband was happy enough that he didn’t detect any you-know-what glazing his halibut. The jury is still out on its accompanying potato and summer pea ragout.

Although we were not camels in the desert, let’s just say they don’t push the drinks on you at Stella. We did prevail upon Ms. Moue for some wine with dinner, but gave up on any idea of lingering on for a digestif. And I'm sure there would have been no chance of getting a nice Nutty Irishman with whipped cream, a shot of green Crème de Menthe and maybe a marchino cherry. Oh, well.

Once outside, I was sorely tempted to bellow a plaintive S-T-E-L-L-A at its yellow awning but I refrained, and opted to send them a very courteous email to decry our treatment. In response, the silence was deafening.

S-T-E-L-LA….

The Smoke That Thunders – Victoria Falls

I’m crazy about lists and since I’m  passionate about travel, I absolutely adore the Traveler’s Life List in Patricia Shultz’s 1.000 Places To See Before You Die. She had me at the question  posed in her introduction, “ Is it nature or nurture that sends a person out on to the Road – that whispers in one’s ear that it’s time to take off and make for the horizon, just to see what’s out there?”  Love that.

Victoria Falls is in Ms. Shultz’s tome and has been on my personal must-see list for eons, so when recently in South Africa, I planned a 3-day side trip to Zimbabwe. “Zimbabwe!” –  friends yelped. “Don’t go.” Hey, you gotta see what’s out there . Would a crazy-ass dictator have stopped David Livingston? Nah. In truth the  compact little town of Victoria Falls is safe and far from the strife that has had the country in the news ,and Mugabe topping the list of Parade Magazine’s World’s Worst Dictators issue. But the tourists are scarcer than hens’ teeth and  the poverty is tangible. Inflation has resulted in a situation where their currency is not worth the paper it is printed on.  Some travelers won’t visit countries with “issues.” My philosophy is – go. It’s about the people.

And the falls? Magnificent. Deservedly listed as one of the Seven Natural Wonders, it is the largest curtain of falling water in the world. We hiked all  morning around the rain forest that is Victoria Falls National Park to catch every vantage point, the sights – including a rainbow – were breathtaking. And the sounds – amazing.

The Africans called them  Mosi-oa-Tunya  meaning the “smoke that thunders” but when Scottish explorer David Livingston “discovered” them in 1855 he changed the name to Victoria Falls in honor of  Britain's reining monarch. The cheek.

Zimbabwe still has a colonial outpost feel and no where is that more evident than than the grande dame Victoria Falls Hotel. It retains its old British Empire feel with elegant Edwardian furnishings and sepia toned photographs detailing the hotel’s history and all the Royal visits. The old Queen Mum, Lord Mountbatten and that lot – a young Queen Elizabeth mit purse. We dined on their Stanley  Terrace and as the hotel is one of the 1,000 Places…I knocked of two places in as many days.

Cape Town for Foodies

Technorati Tags: South Africa,Cape Town,Tour de Forks,Neighbourgoods Market,Old Biscuit Mill

Topping my To Do List this week is distilling my trip notes, pictures and impressions into travel content for a new South Africa micro site on Tour de Forks website. What a gorgeous country! I absolutely fell in love with Cape Town. Laid out beneath the magnificent Table Mountain, it’s hip and urbane - and its storied past has brought together a multi-cultural population resulting in a very cool vibe. Think Africans and the Dutch-Afrikaners - with their history and culture -and the musical sounds of all those dialects. Combine that with the veddy British descendants of the early colonists and the beautiful caramel-colored Cape Malay people renowned for their spicy cuisine. Their quaintly charming, high-in-the-hills neighborhood, Boo-Kap is one of the city's most unique.

Cape Town is considered the culinary capital of South Africa - and it would thrill any foodie worth their salt. We ate game, of course; kudu (the skewered and grilled kabobs of this venison-y tasting antelope were pretty good) and warthog burgers (could be an acquired taste). And we discovered little hideaways offering scrumptious Cape Malay dishes redolent with their signature spices; curry, turmeric and cinnamon. My fave? Bobotie – sort of a South African version of mousaka.

Tour de Forks’ clients look for unique food - related adventures, and so we we on a mission to compile a list of experiences to weave into our tours. We found a very special one in the outlying district of Woodstock – the weekly Neighbourgoods Market. Woodstock is an old historic neighborhood, still slightly seedy, but now sufficiently gentrified and described as “emerging”. Its once derelict mill complex – The Old Biscuit Mill – has been spiffily restored, and every Saturday morning it is the scene of a bustling market, chock-a-block with over 100 stalls and pushcarts.

On display are brilliantly colored organic produce, spices, artisanal meats,cheeses,breads, olive oils, and jars of this and that. Coffee (fair trade, natch) South African wines and beers from local breweries are all available as well. Loads of great stuff to take away or sip and nosh in situ. Who are the patrons? Sophisticated mamas, shopping with tots in tow; serious cooks and foodies hand-picking veggies; and just regular folks happily meandering about – taking it all. in. We bought some biltong (beef jerky Afrikaans style), and shared space, at a long, common, trestle table, with a group of 20-somethings. They were breakfasting – after a Friday night on the town - on oysters and champagne.

In the “man does not live by food alone” department, there are pushcarts with things like gots-to-have-it garlic presses and block printed tea towels. And there are the de rigeur lavender soaps, soy candles and such. An adjacent warren of little boutiques, antique shops and flea-market-y places are fun to browse, and sure to produce a find or two.

Our verdict? Four “forks” each, for the food and the ambiance. Come for breakfast – stay for lunch.

Coffee Talk

This coffee thing is officially out of control. People are now arriving in restaurants with the ubiquitous paper coffee cups. Saw it twice last week. For Christsakes.

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Heads up Parrotheads

Your boy Jimmy Buffett will raise his voice in song on the chi-chi French island of St. Barth on November 7. The raison d'être is the 60th Anniversary of Le Select, a scruffy little beach bar in the harbor side capitol of Gustavia. Its legendary bar keep (and octogenarian) Marius Stakelborough is a great pal of Mr. Buffett's. Something is scruffy in St. Barth?! Oui. One can only consume so much Cristal and goat cheese salad without craving a cold Caribe and a burger, so folks tuck-in at Le Select. The clientele is an interesting mix of locals, tourists and "beautiful people. Wanna go and dance on the quay? For info and digs http://www.stbarth.com/

Winter, Boutique Hotels and Other Stuff

Baby it was cold outside in Boston this past week. I work from a home office and love the features and benefits, which include not having to grate the ice off my windshield for any early morning commutes. I did have to get the scraper out in last Thursday’s frigid temperatures, to venture down to the Renaissance Boston Waterfront Hotel - one of the city’s newer properties – for a meeting. I eschewed the valet parking (at $41 USD – thank you very much), found a meter about two blocks away and hustled along, shivering in the wind. There is nothing like wind off the ocean on a frosty February morning. When I arrived in the lobby, I was chilled to the bone but feeling righteous. Hey, we’ve got an economic crisis going on here…41 bucks to pahk? Gimme a break.

The Renaissance brand is Marriott’s entry into the boutique market. Here on at the Boston Waterfront they have gone with a very cool, contemporary décor with a nod to mid-century design that we often see now. It has a nautical touch and is nice enough; however, I found it a bit stark. Buzz-less. Hotel lobbies can be magical places, bevies of activity and interesting folks up to who-knows-what. But such was not the case. They did whip up a scrumptious hot chocolate though. So there is that – and it steeled me for my walk back to the car. And oh, my meeting with some European tour operators went well.

I returned home to my To Do list and writing up a promo for St. Barth’s Le Sereno Hotel. Book 5 nights – get your 6th night free. Even the beautiful people are looking for a deal these days. I would sure love to stick my feet in the sand of its gorgeous beach – instead of into my Uggs one of these mornings. It’s been a long winter and I’m dying to get back there for some palm trees and sunshine – and ocean breezes of a different sort.

Le Sereno boasts a sleek urban chic décor by French designer Christian Liaigre and although it is an intimate beachfront hotel, it has a cosmopolitan city boutique feel. It really works. Further, I don’t believe there is a charge for parking. Ahem, ahem…Renaissance.

Speaking of boutique hotels, I just received the monthly e- newsletter from one of my favorite websites, Travel Intelligence.com. Check it out, they offer great hotels reviews, with a major focus on boutique properties, nice deals and some great travel writing. No charge.