Daniel Boulud Brasserie in Las Vegas

Every year a select group of friends and I try a new nice restaurant together. Given our shared love for food and each others' company, it makes for a perfect holiday gift to one another. This year, continuing on my Daniel Boulud kick, and since we were all going to be together in Las Vegas during the holidays (for a second or third year in a row), I convinced them to try Daniel Boulud Brasserie.

And everything was stellar (in contrast to the Manresa fiasco of '07, and the lukewarm Bradley Ogden dinner of '08).

We were seated promptly, per our reservation, with a fairly good view of the water feature outside the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, so we were entertained the entire evening. The service was just attentive enough, and well-trained, but unpretentious.

And then there is the FOOD. All my worries that maybe this umpteenth Daniel Boulud restaurant wouldn't live up to original Daniel standards went out the window when we dug into our first courses. The seared foie gras wasn't the best I'd ever had, but it came pretty close and was a beautifully large, plump portion with yummy veggie fixings wading in a shallow pool of light broth/sauce. Indeed everything was generously portioned, from the Caesars salad down to the well-known Daniel Boulud braised short ribs (which was melt-in-your-mouth perfection paired deliciously with my favorite winter veggie, brussel sprouts, on a bed of parsnip puree). The ribeye-for-2 served along side bone marrow (both out-of-this-world good), two sauces and greens was too much for even two grown men with above average appetites! The combination of lobster with apple, celery and hearts of palm was a tasty success, as was the scallops with cauliflower three ways.

And definitely save room for dessert. Great choices include the apple tatin (or anything tatin, I'm sure, since his tatins change seasonally), and the chocolate-peanut bombe.

What made it all the better was how we were welcomed with smiles by everyone, and made comfortable by the staff. Maybe it is just the nature of Las Vegas (versus NY, see below), guaranteeing a much more diverse clientele, but it didn't appear that anyone was treated differently or that there were two classes of diners. Or maybe it was because I and most of my party were in cocktail attire, slightly dressier than the business casual Mark and I had donned for Cafe Boulud (NY) a couple months earlier. In any case, it was a great meal.

These days, it seems you can spend $100/person, following the Michelin guide recommendations, and still be disappointed. (Don't get me started on the Michelin guide, but I will say just this - always cross reference Michelin guide recs with something more reliable, such as Chowhound, NY Mag or even Zagat.) So, it's nice to know there are places like Daniel Boulud Brasserie, that are worth every penny.

What happened to New York?

So what became of the thoughtfully planned trip to New York for our third wedding anniversary, which seemed to have been going so well? After four blissful days, where we were clocking food at pace with my warp-speed itinerary, my plans were hijacked by illness. All I could think those last few days curled up in the fetal position in bed in the hotel room was, "the best-laid plans ... this is what happens to the best-laid plans." As a friend said to me later, it was hubris. We flew too close to the sun, and we burned off a wing ... err, I should say I burned off a wing, because the husband was just fine and while he enjoys being spoiled by my careful planning, he doesn't really have his heart and soul in it as I do. He went along his merry way, hunting, gathering and generally taking care of me.

We did manage to cross off a few of the more low key items off the itinerary, however. Indeed, right before the trip was essentially shut down, we managed to have a brilliant afternoon in Chelsea. We woke up late and hungry, so we started with Corner Bistro. The menu was simple enough, and yet we had one question, "What is the Bistro Burger?" The answer came quick and simple like everything else about the place, "cheese and bacon." It seemed like the specialty of the place, and who doesn't love bacon, so I went for it. With my expectations low, and my tummy empty, I found the Bistro Burger to be delicious.

The crispy bacon went great with the thick patty, cooked medium, and the soft, sweet bun. The obligatory fries were nothing to write home about, but I didn't care. I was satisfied.

Chelsea Market was next, touted as NYC's answer to our very own beloved Ferry Building. It's not quite as bright and open as the Ferry Building, and doesn't have quite the number of exciting eateries and restaurants, but it was adorable nonetheless, including a coffee stop, multiple bakeries (a few specializing in cupcakes), a restaurant specializing in farm fresh all-natural organic ingredients, a few other restaurants (including higher-end ones like Buddakan), a newly-opened branch of Jacques Torres Chocolate, an Italian specialty foods shop where I found a giant tub of Nutella that I wished I could take home, a few food-oriented novelty shops, and a quite-out-of-place-smack-dab-in-the-center giant, smelly seafood shop called The Lobster Place, where you can buy fresh seafood as well as prepared seafood, such as sushi, clam chowder, lobster rolls, etc. The halls were decked out for Halloween, and altogether the place was warm and pleasant.

Connected to the Chelsea Market is the brand new Highline Park, a true urban oasis. Elevated above the streets, Highline Park provides some very enjoyable views, and since it's brand new, there are plenty of nice, new, clean wooden benches, including a section with wooden chaise lounges and a one-of-a-kind (at least I've never seen it before) theater-style viewing area of a movie-screen-sized window overlooking a street ... I believe it's 10th Ave.

That night, we met up with my cousin Nathan for ramen at Ippudo NY. It was a perfect choice. Nathan lived in Japan a few years back, Mark and I had just returned from Japan little more than six months before, so the Japan-quality ramen really hit the spot, especially since the weather had just turned cold that week.

We also squeezed in a few late night snacks before I gave up on leaving the hotel room, including Bon Chon chicken (a little too sweet and spicy when you're sober)

and pork buns and crack pie at Momofuku Milk Bar, both super rich, but down right delicious

EN Japanese Brasserie

The sign, the low lighting, the friendly, soft-spoken Japanese waitstaff, and the menu - was I back at Cha Cha Hana in Tokyo? No, I was in New York, at EN Japanese Brasserie, thanks to a spot on recommendation from our friend Hana, but boy did it bring back wonderful memories of modern izakaya at its best in Tokyo.

We ordered their special homemade tofu (we chose to warm, rather than cold) with a special sauce (tasted like soy and dashi), cold chawanmushi topped with uni (seasonal dish), miso black cod, hot stone grilled organic chicken, shima aji and kanpachi sashimi, braised pork belly, and finished with their popular ice cream trio.

The tofu was quite possibly the best tofu either Mark or I had ever eaten. It was super soft and smooth, with a perfectly light tofu flavor complemented by a light, but flavorful sauce. There was a lot of it, we ate it all, and it went down so, so easy. A very auspicious start to the meal.

This untraditional chawanmushi was (again) perfectly light. Having just come in from the cold, I would have preferred a steaming hot chawanmushi, but completely understand why it had to be cold (nobody wants warm uni). The steamed egg and uni was a surprisingly complementary combo, and the uni was nice and fresh. Great dish if you like uni - even better if it's warm outside.

The miso black cod was a delicious standard, as was the kakuni (braised pork belly), particularly with some steamed rice, leaving us just enough space for a light dessert.

You get to choose three flavors for three scoops, out of six or so different options. Since the black sesame ice cream was mentioned numerous times on Yelp, and we both love black sesame, we went with two scoops of black sesame and one scoop of fig, which just sounded really good. The black sesame was good, but the fig was even better.

We washed all of this down with tea. I think it was oolong. It was very good, whatever it was.

Cafe Boulud

Maybe because it was Saturday night, or maybe business casual just doesn't mean the same in NYC than it does in SF, maybe Daniel Boulud's name just commands this kind of crowd, or all of the above. Whatever the reason, Cafe Boulud was full of well-dressed, important-looking (read sophisticated, older, but very "upkept") people, making me wish, at first, I had worn one of my dresses. It made sense, since the dining room really was beautifully decorated, but no worries, we ended up seated in the back row of the restaurant with the rest of the not-so-famous, not-so-beautiful people - not to be seen, but to see (we had a great view of the rest of the restaurant).

And see we did! In fact, we saw Daniel's fellow Frenchman Eric Ripert!

Did you spot him in the grey blazer over Mark's right shoulder? And who is that he got up to talk to? At that table is a man both Mark and I recognized, but could not place. Mark thought he was a chef that guest judged on Top Chef a few seasons back, but I thought he was an actor that I've seen play an attorney or politician on television before. Mark was right.

The food was as good as everyone said it would be. We could see why Chef Boulud himself is known to eat there more often than his original restaurant Daniel, and others like Chef Ripert does, too.

They started us off with these hot, black truffle and fontina cheese-filled balls.

Mark had the seared foie gras, which was perfection, with sweet pear to balance the fatty liver. I remember having foie gras this good before only once or twice before, and I think it was in Paris. These French chefs really know their foie gras.

I had a beautiful house-made papardelle with a really nice mozzarella, pine nuts and basil pesto. We all know how good papardelle is, and this was probably the best I've ever had. With starters like these, it baffled me why anyone would start with a salad. I suppose some people really like their salads, and I'm sure they're very good salads, but come oooooonnnnnnn!

Mark had the beef duo as his main course, which included a braised short rib and seared coulotte (top sirloin), and was perfection. It was served with a cauliflower gratin and swiss chard to offset the richness of the beef. I had a butter poached Dover sole stuffed with an herb mousse with sunchoke puree, citrus braised endive and sauce Americaine. No clue what's in a sauce Americaine, but it was delicious.

For dessert, I chose a hazelnut gateaux with gianduja chocolate mousse, caramel fondant and hojicha tea ice cream. Mark chose the deconstructed apple tart tatin with a pecan bourbon ice cream that was to-die-for. The tart tatin tasted looked nothing like its namesake, but it tasted like the perfect French memory, each element individually delicious, and mind-blowing when combined.

The only chink in the armor showed up at the end of the meal when they failed to give us the mini-madeleines everyone was was served post-dessert. I had no room for it, but it was a mistake, and I didn't expect any mistakes from them. Maybe next time I'll get my hair professionally done, wear some makeup and more impressive jewelry.

Gray's Papaya

We started off the morning with a couple of Gray's Papaya hot dogs topped with spicy onions, and were sorely disappointed. The bun wasn't all steamy like we had remembered it, the hot dog was overcooked and everything was cold. We're not sure if we just remembered wrong, or if it really has gone downhill, or if maybe the hot dogs from the SF stand on Market across the street from Old Navy (our favorite!) is just that good.

I wasn't ready to give up on Gray's, though. I was intrigued by the breakfast special (egg and cheese sandwich with sausage or ham - I went with sausage), which came with a tiny, but perfect little cup of coffee, and what a redemption. If I need a quick early morning breakfast, I'm definitely going back for another special!

Momofuku Ko

I did it. I survived the three-hour marathon meal at Momofuku Ko. They served a challenging sixteen courses, culminating at about course number thirteen in a Long Island duck sausage-stuffed duck breast served with a small cylinder of rice, grilled green onion, and a sprinking of pomegranate seeds. They scored the fact in a beautiful pattern at the beginning of the meal, and basted it with hot peanut oil directly in front of us throughout the meal. It made me forget that I was already stuffed.

Before that, we had their famous melt-in-your mouth shaved foie gras over lychee, riesling jelly and brittle. And before that, a puffed egg in bacon dashi broth served with a light, fluffy, to-die-for bacon and cream cheese-stuffed "bagel." Other highlights included a refreshing oyster topped with caviar, chives and lime, and a rich rye bread soup with eel and confit of cherry tomatoes.

I was pretty much in a coma by the end of the meal, but conscious enough to appreciate a few aspects of the desserts, including a sweet cream ice cream that perfectly balanced a carrot puree, and an earl gray chocolate sauce poured over an earl grey tea cake and some other sort of ice cream.

The creativity level and execution here rivals that of a Thomas Keller kitchen, except with a much more Asian bent in both ambience and cuisine, particularly Japanese. Somewhere around the third or fourth course, I had an "aha!" moment, as in, "aha, I now understand all the hype."

Although everything was beautiful, they have a no picture policy, so all I have is this picture of their front door, which seems deliberately low profile, even hidden or unwelcoming. Our meal, however, was warm and undeniably delicious. Indeed, we were welcomed and seated right away despite being nearly a half hour late (the D train was much slower than we anticipated).

Next stop: NYC

I am about to embark on an unprecedented foodie tour of New York City. Okay, so maybe others have gone before me, but my itinerary is ambitious, to say the least. It may not be possible to eat through all I have planned, but we will give it our all.

This is a trip two months in the making, ever since I spotted those super low Jetblue airfares. Hotels have long been booked, restaurant reservations have been made and modified, some a month in advance (had to make sure to get Daniel reserved for our anniversary), some exactly twenty-eight days in advance (hello Gramercy Tavern), and others exactly two weeks in advance (thanks Momofuku Ko). I've stayed up late adjusting my itinerary, called the offices of the Late Night with Jimmy Fallon show weekly for tickets only to find out they are not taping while we're there (neither is the Daily Show with Jon Stewart!), and even woken up at 6:45am my time to log-on to the Momofuku Ko reservations site, to which I had previously registered in advance (a necessity), exactly fourteen days prior to my desired reservation date (your food better be worth it, David Chang). And now the time is finally here for us to pack our bags, go, and eat like we've never eaten before.

I must forewarn you: I have made a similarly ambitious itinerary before, for Tokyo, and failed to stick to it. There were, however, mitigating circumstances then, including jetlag (sleeping and waking early is not conducive to eating a lot in Tokyo, where food halls and restaurants don't open until noon-ish, but stay open until the wee hours of the morning) and a foreign (literally) street address system that got the best of us at times. None of those mitigating circumstances will be present for this NY trip, so I have high hopes.

We'll be starting on Saturday morning with some upper West side snacks (maybe a Gray's Papaya hot dog) to warm up, and then we dive right into a three-hour food extravaganza at Momofuku Ko (where unfortunately pictures are not allowed - just wanted to set your expectations). We round out the first day with a late dinner at Cafe Boulud, which was recently renovated, and is the other Daniel Boulud restaurant I settled on after reading numerous reviews and comparisons of various Boulud NYC restaurants on nymag.com, nytimes.com and Chowhound (I'm relatively thorough, but not very creative, in my research).

Here's a list of what we're planning (hoping) to hit the rest of the week:

• H&H Bagel
• Momofuku Ssam Bar
• Momofuku Milk Bar
• EN Japanese Brasserie (reserved)
• Street carts at 53rd & 6th, 73rd & Broadway, and Dosa Man near NYU
• Corner Bistro
• Blue Ribbon Bakery
• Ray's Candy Store (egg creams and ... belgian fries?)
• Ippudo
• ChikaLicious
• Levain Bakery
• Treats Truck
• Le Bernardin (reserved)
• La Maison du Chocolat
• Bon Chon
• Balthazar (if only for some fries)
• Jean George (reserved)
• Gramercy Tavern (reserved)
• Shake Shack
• Original Soup Man (he doesn't run his store anymore, but he still supplies the soup for this franchise)
• Grimaldi's Pizzeria (Brooklyn)
• Cha-an Tea House
• Tebaya
• hidden Burger Joint
• Spotted Pig
• Katz's Delicatessen

Lower priority backups (i.e., if we can possibly squeeze in any more meals between meals) include:

• Alice's Tea Cup
• Nougatine by Jean George
• Diner or Marlow & Sons (Brooklyn)
• The Breslin (Spotted Pig's new sister)
• Perilla (maybe we'll spot Harold, Season 1 Top Chef winner!)
• Eisenberg's Sandwich Shop & Gem Spa (egg creams survey)
• Pomme Frites

If you'd like to join us vicariously on this crazy, whirlwind food journey, stay tuned for updates throughout the week!

Italy: Venice

I've written up my personal list of favorite things to see, eat and do in the major Italian cities in e-mail form so many times now that I've decided it would be best to recount it here so that I can refer future inquiries to this blog. My visits to Italy have been informed by various guides and websites, including Michelin, Rick Steves, Zagat, Eyewitness Travel, Wikipedia and other online sources. Of course, a few of the best gems were discovered by word of mouth and random exploration.

First, a gratuitous pitch for Pocket Pilot maps. I know that most of us can conveniently resort to our iPhones or various other GPS-enabled devices for maps and directions, but for those who still need to resort to physical maps (i.e., no international phone plans), I highly recommend the Pocket Pilot series, which are available for most major cities in Europe, the UK, and the Americas (mostly U.S. and Canada, but a few cities here and there in South American countries as well). They are precise, laminated, well-scaled, literally do fit comfortably in pockets (even women's pockets), and usually contain public transportation guides as well (i.e., subway routes).

For a little more depth and feel for various aspects or places in Italy (particularly Venice), I recommend the following books: The City of Falling Angels by John Berendt (of Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil fame), Eating Up Italy: Voyages on a Vespa by Matthew Fort, The Companion Guide to Venice by Hugh Honour, Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert (at least the first part about eating in Rome), and the indulgent historic-fictional romance, A Venetian Affair by Andrea di Robilant.

I'm starting with Venice because it is my favorite city in Italy, and one of my favorites in the whole world. As soon as I glimpse the island from the Alilaguna boat (my favored mode of transportation from Aeroporto di Marco Polo), not only am I transplanted to a faraway place, but also a faraway time. The architecture and gondolas set the stage for you, but what really brings the feeling home is what's missing - cars. What makes Venice truly unique is the fact that its streets are purely pedestrian. Boats are a common mode of transportation, but by virtue of their being relegated to the water, they do not share (and thus do not interfere) with pedestrian streets. At the risk of preempting your own moment of revelation, I found that the complete absence of cars on the island refreshed my soul, a renewal I felt for the first time two days into my first visit. I felt like a new person, and after a few moments (as I strolled toward the Ferrovia station to buy a train ticket), I spotted the car park near the station, (Venice's umbilical cord connection to the mainland and the only place on the island you can spot any car at all), I realized how absolutely relaxing it was to not have to contend with cars.

VENICE HOTELS

We've only had the opportunity to stay at three hotels in Venice, but they are a good range for comparison.

Hotel Monaco & Grand Canal (http://www.hotelmonaco.it/) is our favorite. It's certainly not a budget hotel, but it's a great value if you can book their "Romantic" or "Honeymoon" stays, which last I checked in 2008 came out to approximately 200 euros per night for a 3-night stay, which includes tax (VAT), breakfast and usually some other goodie, ranging from a classical music CD (ok by me, not so exciting for Mark) to a bottle of Prosecco (score!). I would easily pay 350-400 euros per night and still feel as if it was a good deal (esp. after our experience at the Danieli, described next). The rooms are less ornate than older, historic hotels, but thereby more comfortable, and the bathrooms are large, elegant, with working heated towel racks and good water pressure. The complimentary breakfast is just a variety of breads and muffins, but you can request a variety of drinks (as many as you like, even if you order it for in-room delivery rather than going down to the dining room) and they make excellent cappuccinos. Don't be shy, and make use of their concierge desk. They are VERY helpful, and don't expect tips (although we always tip them gladly and generously at the end of our stay). The Hotel Monaco is also ideally located. It is almost directly in front of the San Marco vaporetto stop, which is very convenient for getting to and from anywhere, and is just steps (ok, maybe 20-30 steps) from Piazza San Marco. In fact, the Alilaguna boat shuttle from the Aeroporto di Marco Polo will drop you off at that stop, too. There is a lot to be said for not having to drag your luggage across town to get to and from your hotel.

Side note: The Alilaguna ride to and from the airport is over an hour long, but it's the most cost-effective way to get to Venice from the airport if you aren't in a large group, and as a bonus, you get great views of Venice on your way in since it circles the island to get to the San Marco stop (we always take the blue line, which makes several stops before it gets to San Marco - the gold line is more direct, but also more expensive). Water taxis are molto expensive, and only worth it if you're in a big hurry or have 5+ people going in one taxi.

Hotel Danieli, one of the preeminent luxury hotels in Venice, was a disaster for us. While I think it's extremely difficult, if not impossible, to have a great time on a budget in Venice, I certainly don't recommend spending a ton of money on beautiful old historic hotels that do not boast very recent renovations, even the ones that come highly recommended in Michelin, various other travel guides, and even that 1000 Places To See Before You Die book (maybe they were just recommending that you see the Hotel Danieli's lobby and not actually stay there overnight). The room we had was old, with chairs upholstered in the same pattern as the upholstered walls, curtains and bed covers. The antique-like furniture looked and felt like it was 100 years old, with the thinning threads, and worst of all, the two separate twin beds provided (not two twins mattresses bound together, which is usually what a King room in Europe would be) were lumpy and literally the worst beds we had ever slept on. The staff was snooty and cold, and quite obvious about waiting around for tips for every little bit of service performed (clearly used to fast-tipping American tourists). The lobby is beautiful, and I hear tell the restaurant has an excellent view, but those things you can experience without paying 450+ euros per night to stay the night there.

Finally, Palazzo Selvadego is a good, less expensive option. It is just down the street from, and a sister hotel of, the Hotel Monaco, so you get the same level of service and clean, modern facilities, just with less space, less high art, no real lobby to speak of, and you have to walk a few feet down the street to the Hotel Monaco for your complementary breakfast. It's not directly on the Grand Canal, but it shares the same proximity to the Piazza San Marco as the Hotel Monaco.

If you're going to check out the Piazza San Marco first thing, which I highly recommend even if you aren't going into the Basilica, Doge's Palace or Campanile that day, it is literally steps from all of these hotels.

VENICE FOOD

Don't eat just anywhere. With few meals to spare and so many great places to eat, it's a shame to waste meals in Venice on crappy food. Remember to leave yourself plenty of time to find these places, though, as the streets of Venice are not easy to maneuver.

La Zucca on Calle Tintor (again, ask directions because there are two Calle Tintors in Venice) is our favorite affordable restaurant in Venice. Their fresh tagliatelle pasta and the zucca (pumpkin) flan are their absolute best items. But all of the fresh pasta is good, and the salads, too. Prices are reasonable. I'm not as big of a fan of their meat dishes, so if you can live without, this is the place to do it.

Second to La Zucca would be Vini da Gigio. They are specialists at staples of Venetian cuisine, such as squid ink pasta and mixed fried seafood (fritto misto). This place is even harder to find than La Zucca, so it's essential you ask directions.

These two restaurants are almost always booked in advance (you have no idea how many people we've seen turned away from La Zucca as we're eating). The concierge at any decent hotel will make reservations for you, or if you're in the neighborhood already (i.e., scoping it out the day before so you won't get lost the next day ... am I the only person that does that?), you can just show up at the restaurant and make the reservation yourself for that evening or later that day. This is another reason to go to Venice when it's less crowded - you'll get into the restaurants you want to with just a day's notice.

For very special dinners, I recommend Da Fiore and the Grand Canal Restaurant at the Hotel Monaco. Da Fiore, on Scaleter in the S. Polo district, is the ultimate restaurant in Venice. The food is excellent, but expect to spend a lot (over 100 euro per person) - some of the best risotto, pasta and seafood you'll ever have, Venetian-style. The Grand Canal Restaurant is also pricey, but well worth it. Our first time eating there was probably the best food we'd had up to that point, which is saying a lot - certainly the best canneloni, and almost the best risotto, ever. Our second time there was very good, but not quite as spectacular as the first.

Other good options for food are Osteria Ai Carmini, which is on a side street off the south side of Campo Santa Margherita in the Dorsoduro. They have good fried calamari, and salty, but decent pastas (including squid ink). Seating consists of just a few tables outside on the street. Campo Santa Margherita is a great place to see the locals hang out in the afternoon and has a good gelato place on the south end across from the only supermarket we've been able to find in Venice. For decent take-away pizza, there's Pizza Al Volo right in the Campo, but I usually save pizza for Rome and Naples (see later postings). Near the Rialto bridge, Poste Vecie is also good for seafood/pasta (again, not the easiest to find), but a little pricier than La Zucca and Vini da Gigio.

Right across the "street" from the Hotel Monaco is Harry's Bar - famous for hot chocolate and bellinis (a mix of peach juice and prosecco - Italy's champagne). Hotel Monaco's bar also makes a fabulous bellini, which I like to have before my meals there.

If you're going to drink cappuccinos anywhere, you should drink it in Venice. We always fit in a morning cappuccino or quick light lunch at Rosa Salva, a little cafe that serves the best cappuccinos in the world, along with excellent tramezzinis (Venetian crustless sandwiches) and sweets. It's a simple place, but an institution in Venice (I imagine you would have to be if you advertise in mosaic tiles laid into the seemingly permanent stone street). Caffe del Doge gives Rosa Salva a run for its money in the cappuccino department, but Mark and I still slightly favor Rosa Salva, maybe because we can only get it in Venice, whereas Caffe del Doge has a post in our very own backyard (downtown Palo Alto).

VENICE SIGHTS

As I mention above, Piazza San Marco should be your first stop. There are several cafes providing orchestral entertainment in the square from afternoon to evening, along with very expensive drinks and snacks. Caffe Florian is the most famous and oldest cafe in the piazza, and is a special experience for that reason alone. They charge a hefty price if you sit down to drink or dine, but it's an experience like no other, so it may be worth a $15 coke to just sit there, listen to the "dueling" orchestras, and soak it all in ... or not, depending on your level of appreciation for these kinds of things. The orchestras are famous for playing at night, but I've seen them start fairly early in the afternoon. Of course, in the Piazza, you have the Basilica and the Campanile. I've always found it worthwhile to pay the fee to go to the Basilica's museum (upstairs), where you can see the famous bronze horses (the real ones, not the fake ones on the facade of the building), and take in great views from the balcony. I was ok not paying the three euro (I hear prices have gone up) to go up the Campanile the second time around, though. Some administrative details that may make help you navigate the sights:

• Everything opens around 9:30am, and in late fall, it seemed the lines started to get long around 10:30/11am.
• The lines really come and go, so if you have the time, and you see a really, really long line to get into the Basilica, just come back later, and maybe go to the Doge's Palace or shopping first.
• There are no backpacks allowed in the Basilica, and they make you check it at a church down a side street a block away from the Basilica, so if you can leave everything except for maybe a purse (which doesn't need to be checked) at your hotel for this visit, you'll be better off.
• The Doge's Palace (Palazzo Ducale) is just around the corner from the Basilica facing the water. When you walk along the water just past it, you'll see lots of folks staring and taking pictures of a famous enclosed bridge called the Bridge of Sighs. If you go into the Doge's Palace and make it all the way to the prison area, you actually get to walk inside the bridge and look out at all the people looking in. Very cool ... if you like pretending you're in prison.

I'm more of a history buff than art buff, so the Galleria Accademia and Peggy Guggenheim collection have always been low on my list, and I have yet to make it into these museums, but I hear they're fantastic. Other things worth seeing if you have time - Ai Frari church, fish/produce market near the Rialto bridge (not huge, but beautiful and fresh), and the Fenice Theater (recently rebuilt after being burned down ... a second time).

Finally, there's great shopping in Venice! They have all the stores you would look for in Rome - Gucci, Prada, Louis Vuitton, Chanel, Hermes, Ferragamo, Malo, Armani, Loro Piana, Frette was having a great sale while we were there, and so much more - along with the same VAT rebate, but all in a short walkable distance! Even the currency exchange office where you could apply for your VAT rebate was just across the street from the Louis Vuitton store! I don't know if it was the convenience, the prices or the beautiful way everything is displayed, but we have only ever been inspired to buy Gucci, Hermes, Ferragamo, Frette and Prada in Venice.

This should fill 3-5 days of food and sights in Venice ... at least it did for us. I encourage you not to be a day-tripper to Venice, because you'll come away feeling like you went to a theme park, and won't have the opportunity to let the deep history of Venice sink into your skin.

Bath

We had an inauspicious flight to the UK. There was a slight stench as soon as we entered the coach cabin. The low fares attracted quite a "diverse" group, including a slightly belligerent, smelly and very old alcoholic (he sat in front of Mark), parents that used the overhead bins as their own personal dresser drawers (I saw a mom throw a dozen pieces of loose clothing into one), and some very large, uncooperative British adults that acted like children every time they were asked to do anything by the flight attendants. It was noisy and messy, seeming more crowded than usual. People wouldn't sit down until after the plane started to taxi to the runway. I started to think the man sitting to my right may be a serial killer. He stared straight at the flight map on his screen for hours, moved only to accept food and give the trays back, and slept (in the same position as when he stared at the flight map on the screen, but with his eyes closed). He didn't watch any TV or movies, listen to any music, read anything, go to the bathroom, nothing. He barely moved the entire flight. He didn't smell great either, but not as bad as the drunk. Good thing my allergies prevented me from smelling too much. The food was typical airplane food - dinner salad was promising, but chicken and rice disappointed, so I didn't finish it. Good thing I had a salad before we got on the plane. I had the chocolate, but the dessert cake, while it looked delicious, appeared to be gluten-laden, so I laid off it. I read French Milk, a graphic novel of sorts, and watched Bride Wars, which was hilarious and sad at the same time. It made me think about my own wedding a lot, and made me very grateful. I also watched a British movie called something like "Easy Virtue" with Jessica Beal, Colin Firth and Kristin Scott-Thomas (I know, Jessica Beal in a British movie?), and an episode each of Samantha Who? and 'Til Death (miss that show). I napped a couple hours towards the end of the flight, but not enough.

The flight map showing our trajectory and current location identified various other cities around Europe. It made me wish I was visiting more than just London and Bath. I had tried to squeeze in a day trip to Cambridge or Oxford this time, but just couldn't fit it in (again). Other cities I saw on the map that had great names and that I wish I could visit just to say that I had been to a place by such a name: Guernsey, Bournemouth (is it "born-muth" like the Jason Bourne movies, or "burn-muth"? I think the latter), Limerick, Cork, Edinburgh, Manchester, Rouen, and best of all, Newcastle Upon Tyne.

Making the transfer to London Paddington via Heathrow Express was smooth and quick, so we arrived in Paddington in plenty of time for our 3pm train to Bath. (I had considered trying the less expensive Heathrow Connect, but we flew into the new Terminal 5, from which Heathrow Connect does not depart, and I didn't want to take the time to transfer to another terminal and then switch over.) Mark was relieved to be vacationing in a country where everything was written in English.

When we arrived in Bath, I pointed out how lovely and quaint the town felt because it was so well preserved. Mark said, "like Bruges?" (We had just seen the movie "In Bruges." You have to see the movie to get the joke.)

It took us about 15 minutes to find our way to our B&B: Chestnuts House. Check-in was efficient. We were Room 2, which looks exactly like the first room picture on their website.

I'd been slightly hungry this whole trip so far, always eating just enough food to stave off the hunger monster (not on purpose, but because of my new gluten-free diet). So despite having slept less than 7 of the last 48 hours, and traveled 5,500 miles, our hunger overpowered our exhaustion, and we were glad to have dinner reservations to head off to.

I didn't recall the food in Bath being particulary impressive (as I said to Mark, "That isn't why you come to Bath"), but decent, since it was such a popular vacation spot. The Moon and Sixpence is one of the more well-reviewed restaurants in Bath, and it exceeded my mediocre expectations. For instance, I was pleasantly surprised by the amuse bouche, as I didn't expect this to be the kind of restaurant to send out an amuse. It was a prawn and tomato salad with shell-shaped saffron gelee and a celeriac slaw. It was very nice, although I commented that the chef would be criticized by the Top Chef judges for serving an amuse that was more than one bite. Our starter was a scallop dish (pan seared?) with some kind of slightly-spicy sausage and bean purée. The scallops themselves were delicious, and the sausages tasty, but tough. I don't know about sitting it on top of bean puree, though. I had the sea bass as my main (probably a local variety since it didn't resemble the chilean sea bass I'm accustomed to seeing in the States), which was interestingly served on a bed of warm fennel, chard and brazil nut (probably my first taste of a brazil nut) salad with grapefruit slices. The sea bass was perfectly cooked and delicious, but Mark's duck breast was even better, on top of cabbage, carrots and cranberries, which in turn were on top of smashed (not to be confused with mashed) potatoes. It was a perfectly proportioned main dish, with just enough veg and starch (actually we could have had more of everything on his plate because it was so good, but that would have been gluttonous). To my delight, the recommended dessert of raspberry cheesecake didn't have a crust (more like a raspberry cheese mousse), and was both different and delicious. It was served with a raspberry sauce and poached pear.

I couldn't wait any longer to show Mark the Royal Crescent, which was probably the driving purpose of this trip. So I led him to the gravel path, once walked daily by Jane Austen herself, which leads to the base of the lawn in front of the Royal Crescent.The building itself was dirtier than I remember, but still so beautiful and grand. Last time I was here, I didn't get the chance to walk along the actual Royal Crescent street (I admired it only from the base of the lawn), so we were both seeing the Royal Crescent up close for the first time. I can't believe people still live there. One of these days, I'm going to stay at the Royal Crescent Hotel, which occupies the house in the very center of the Royal Crescent. We walked past all the houses looking in at people reading and talking on the phone, and wondered if they were ordinary people with enough money to buy here, or if they were from old, aristocratic families.

When we got back to our room, my exhaustion hit me pretty suddenly and hard. So I showered and crashed. It was 10pm.

I awoke the next morning to the most beautiful breakfast, with a cold bar as well as omelettes and full English breakfasts made to order, and of course coffee, chocolate and tea.

Our host turned us on to the free guided tours of Bath, which during which Mark fell deeply for our tour guide, an elderly, English lady that was very well-informed about Bath. She said she could speak for at least an hour just about the history and architecture of the Circus. Mark later said he would enjoy listening to her speak about the Circus for an hour or more.

We visited the Roman Baths, and I tasted the famous Bath water, which comes out of this beautiful old fountain in the Pump Room.

I was prepared for the slightly sulphuric taste, but the warmth of the water took me by surprise. And then we were on to London.

I failed, once again, to make it to the Thermae Bath Spa.

Cha Cha Hana

Still on day 2 of the trip, I was already exhausted from a full morning that started really early. So I re-energized myself with some really great plum-flavored tea in the hotel room (and leftover shortbread cookies from our recent dinner at The French Laundry in Yountville - I know, how lucky am I?!?), we went in search of our first izakaya meal. I had requested a reservation at the trendy Cha Cha Hana, but was informed by the Park Hyatt concierge that they had no more reservations available that night, but we could walk in. It was recommended in multiple food blogs, so I was pretty excited about it, and the email seemed pretty hopeful, so I decided to give it a go.

It is located in a sub-district of the greater Shinjuku area of Tokyo called Kabukicho, which we quickly discovered was a sort of red light district as we wandered the neighborhood in search of the restaurant. We still did not have a full understanding of how addresses in Tokyo worked and how to read the Japanese atlas that my friend Jenny had kindly lent to us (don't worry, we figure it towards the end of the trip), so we had to wander a bit. Thanks to my online research, however, I knew to look for a quaint side-street and this symbol (I found out later that this is a handwritten version of the kanji for "hana"):

If I hadn't recognized the entrance and the symbol from a picture in the NY Times, we would never have found the place, since it looks like a dark house and has no other signage (no "Cha Cha Hana" in English or Japanese in front).

Our optimism paid off, as we were seated promptly upon arrival. It's like a Japanese home in that you take off your shoes at the entrance, and the main dining room has a raised tatami floor.

They sat us at the bar in front of the bartender, around the corner from which was the sushi chef. Both men were mighty impressive - the sushi chef for his clean, meticulous style (as you'd want from your sushi chef) and his unique sushi/sashimi plates (I swear he designed a new plate for every customer); the bartender for his skill with the ice pick, which he used to break up ice in his palm (we were waiting all night for the ice pick to slip and spill his blood all over the ice), and the proficiency with which he prepared drinks.

Per a food blogger's recommendation, we ordered some sashimi, our first in Tokyo. I wasn't expecting it to blow me away and we didn't order much, since we were really here for small plate specialties, but I was very impressed with its presentation, quality and freshness. We had some kanpachi and sake. Yummm!

Also impressive was the Shamo chicken, a special breed that is known the world over for being a cockfighting, "show quality" (is there such a thing?) chicken, but my friend Jenny had mentioned that her foodie friends in Japan know it to be particularly delicious, so I got very excited when I spotted it on the menu.

We tried a number of other dishes, including a Japanese yam dish (the circular dish below), and a couple of super-delicious desserts - a black sesame mochi with a dark sugar syrup sauce and a tofu "tiramisu" that contained red bean filling and a matcha sauce.

Everything was more delicious than we could have hoped, except for the clam yakisoba, which had mushy, sticky flat noodles that overpowered whatever clam flavor there may have been.

When we left, the street that seemed so charming before dinner was now a little creepy, with the rustling of homeless people settling in for the night, a constantly crying cat, and a falling-down drunk businessman unsuccessfully being propped up and guided by his date for the walk back to the subway (or maybe to a nearby "love hotel," who knows).

Neglecting my blog

I've been a bad blogger, and I apologize to my (two) readers. At first, I just got busy with the trip, executing and managing my packed itinerary. Then afterward, maybe because it was such a beautiful experience, I just couldn't bear to let go of it. Every time I thought of writing about it, I just kept thinking there was no way I could do my memories justice with words. It wasn't rational, but it was enough to keep me from writing.

On the other hand, this incomplete story has been nagging me. So I've convinced myself to finish this in small bites, chewing slowly. Now, where was I? Oh yeah, early morning on day two.

So I thought that being exhausted and falling soundly asleep at 10pm the night before meant that I was golden - no jet lag for me. I was mistaken. I was wide awake at 4:30am, and Mark was not, which is why I had the luxury of writing the first blog entry. Mark awoke around 6am, the sun was already up (no daylight savings in Tokyo), and thinking it was too early for breakfast (despite my stomach's protests), I decided we should go for our first swim.

The pool on the 47th Floor (you actually have to go through the spa entrance on the 45th Floor and take a private elevator to get to the pool/gym) was as spectacular as advertised, with 365 degree views - Mt. Fuji, Yoyogi park, and central Tokyo. I was able to get a couple of pictures taken before the attendant informed me I was not supposed to take any pictures at the pool. They provided us swim caps (mandatory), towels and robes (so that we wouldn't be walking the hotel halls in wet clothes). I vowed to swim again before we left, and Mark vowed to return to the treadmills facing Mt. Fuji and go for a zen run while looking at the beautiful snowcapped peak, but neither of those things happened.

The plan was to have ramen at Ichiran for breakfast, since one semi-reliable source had said it was open 24 hours. It was nearly 10am when we got there, by which time I was starving, and to my dismay, the sign said they were open from 11am-6am - not quite 24 hours, and I just happened to be there during one of the few hours they were not open.

No problem, I had a backup: Ohitsuzen Tanbo, which according to the NY Times, was known for the quality of its steamed rice. It was a couple of subway stops away, but if it was open by the time we got there, it would be worth the trip. The subway system wasn't difficult to figure out, but being our first day navigating the streets of Tokyo, we had a hard time finding the street once out of the subway. We went in the right direction, but it wasn't exactly where I thought it would be, and I was having trouble containing my hunger monster. Sensing that the hunger was really getting to me, Mark put on his super-navigator cape and started seriously reading the street signs. This was the first time I realized how useful his knowledge of hiragana (Japanese alphabet for sounding out Japanese words) and katakana (Japanese alphabet for sounding out Western words) was, because none of the store/restaurant signs were in English. I never loved him more than when we turned yet another corner, and he read the sign out loud; but my exuberance quickly faded when I saw they weren't open until 11:30am! The menu posted outside looked so good, though, we decided it would be worth the wait.

We decided to pass the time in a nearby Starbucks, and to see if there were any different offerings in a Japanese Starbucks. I got excited about the matcha frapuccino, but Mark insisted they had that in the U.S., and it turned out to be mediocre anyway.

Ohitsuzen Tanbo, however, was by no means mediocre. Being the first restaurant we were navigating that (a) was not expecting us, and (b) had no token English-speaking waitress, it was challenging, but in a wonderful way. I imagine since being mentioned in a NY Times article, they must have had some American tourists come in (the menu outside had English and pictures), but they clearly didn't expect tourists regularly, and indeed we didn't see a single tourist there throughout our entire meal. So their usual menu is simply the Japanese menu on the right side of the picture above - no pictures, no English - which they unquestioningly placed in front of us. After muttering something about "eigo" (which means "English"), they understood and brought out their English menu with the pictures. We ordered, fielded some additional questions we didn't really understand that presumably were about whether we wanted the regular amount of rice or double, to which Mark somehow communicated that the regular amount of rice was fine, we were on our way.

But our hurdles didn't end there. There was a teapot with tea or broth, we didn't really know, and then numerous condiments we had no clue what to do with. Luckily, the restaurant filled up quickly with nearby office workers after our arrival, so we ate slowly, watched others, and learned that after eating a little bit of the rice and meat/fish, you make a bowl of rice soup with the tea/broth and mixing in the condiments. Maybe I was just really hungry, but it was the best rice I had ever had up to that point, and the whole meal was perfectly satisfying and delicious.

I had no room for ramen anymore, and quite frankly, was exhausted from the morning's pursuit of food.

I've truly outdone myself this time

Just when I thought I couldn't plan vacations any grander or more ideal than the last, I go and outdo myself, again. This is my first time stepping on Asian soil outside of Taiwan, and despite the 3-hour trek from Narita Airport to our hotel in the Shinjuku district, and arriving at our hotel soaking wet and horribly under-dressed (everyone in the reception area was dressed in a suit, both guests and the hotel staff), this vacation has started out amazing. We've traded in the old European luxury of my former vacation splurges for the height of modern stylish functionality, the warmth of Italy for the restraint and respect of the Japanese. Without taking away from how much I would love to go back to Europe and the UK, I have fallen in love completely with Japan.

Before we set off Saturday morning, I have to admit that I wasn't as excited as I could have been. I lost a bit of my enthusiasm for this trip the last few days before we left because Mark and I were drowning in the details of getting our lives in order for our two-week absence - him working early morning until late into the night every night, while I worked out the details of our personal life with the post office, house cleaning service, seismic retrofit contractor, Berkeley tenants, last-minute itinerary tweaks, and yes, even completely planning my next vacation (umm ... I'll talk about that after I get back from this trip). My stuff didn't really distract me much, but I was feeling Mark's stress, as I usually do. It was difficult to keep up the excitement level for two, and I did alright (as folks that follow my FB statuses can attest). I just wasn't as excited as I have been before previous vacations. For instance, before Italy, I think I updated my countdown every day for a week, whereas my countdown for this trip consisted of two FB updates.

That all changed once we got to the airport. We were thoroughly entertained at the airport by the funny English at the ANA check-in desk (didn't think we'd get any of that until we got into Japan), two elderly Indian ladies traveling alone that were attempting to navigate the escalator for the first time (picture Elf, but with two small Indian ladies in saris instead), a Japanese man wearing a green leather jacket, and a lady that had decorated her crutches with pink feathery boas and mardi gras beads. All this put us in a good mood, the right mood to experience our first 24 hours of Japanese hospitality.

The service and food on the plane was quite good, where we got our first introduction to just how respectful the Japanese are to everything and everyone. I'm sure there is a term for the concept of respecting the appropriate time and place for everything, and practicing that every minute of every day. If the Japanese originate the concept, they at least gave it new meaning, for they are the masters of this. First and foremost, they do not idly chatter. Our plane was filled mostly with Japanese nationals (almost everyone had red passports), and no one on the airplane was talking except for us. You can imagine how quickly we fell silent with the rest. Even the announcements were kept to a minimum - no useless information from the pilot about how many planes are ahead of us for takeoff, and no funny business by the flight attendants to appease the masses during our wait. The masses needed little appeasing, and they were perfectly content to watch the free movies (you can start, pause, rewind and fast forward any of them at your leisure) and play the free games. Our wait on the runway was not short, but no one questioned or complained, not even under their collective breath, which I guarantee you we would have heard. Not even a single whine from the children. It simply wasn't the time or place.

We ate a meal, I played solitaire and sudoku, I slept, I watched Australia (not as bad as the reviews, I might add), we ate another meal, and then we arrived into Tokyo through a shroud of grey clouds. It was a very quick 11-hour ride (the good food helped make the flight seem quicker). When we arrived, the flight attendant asked that we, the passengers, wait until we were at the gate and the seatbelt sign was turned off before unbuckling, an announcement I normally wouldn't be able to hear over the ruckus of unbuckling seatbelts, but this time, no one unbuckled their seatbelts until we were at the gate and the seatbelt sign was turned off.

We glided through customs, smoothly transitioned our Japan Railways voucher into actual passes, caught an earlier Narita Express train than expected, and successfully navigated a transfer to the Yamanote line to get to the nearest major station to our hotel, Shinjuku. We had consciously left the umbrella at home because we knew all our hotels would provide them, so we got soaked walking to the hotel from the train station. No one looked at us funny or judged us when we arrived at the Park Hyatt Tokyo; they just brought us towels, took our luggage, and took us to the 41st floor where we were led to the most intimate reception area, with separate check-in desks where you sit in comfortable cream-colored chairs opposite the attendant that is checking you in. No standing in lines, and after being introduced by name by the bell lady, everyone greeted us by name as if we were a guest in their home.

Then we were shown to our room, replete with near-ideal functional design. I thought we were paying for the name and notoriety - this is Sophia Coppola's favorite hotel and the one she featured in the movie Lost in Translation. Instead, I see that the hotel has really spared no expense in equipping the room with elements both useful and stylish. Between the views of both Mt. Fuji and the Tokyo Tower and the heated toilet/bidet/sanitizing dryer, it is easy to take for granted other amenities I would normally be excited about - complimentary welcome chocolates and bottled water, fine linens on a large, comfortable bed, every toiletry you might need provided without request (two razors, two toothbrushes, etc.), Bang & Olufsen telephone in the toilet room, tissue boxes both in the bathroom and bedside, fine tea with teapot and teacup set separate from the coffee, water boiler/warmer just like my Zojirushi at home, and super-fast high speed internet, just to name a few things.

We didn't have much time to get into all of that upon first arrival, though, because we had reservations at Hashidaya, one of many chicken-specialty restaurants in Tokyo. I think the hotel warned them that Americans were coming, because as soon as we arrived, they called over their English-speaking server, who had graciously hand-annotated one of their menus with English earlier that day, apparently just for us, or at least that's what it felt like. We certainly were the only non-Japanese patrons there the entire time. We started with their famous tsukune (chicken meatballs) cooked directly in front of us on a heated stone, and then moved onto other parts of the chicken on a fresh heated stone, and a nabe (soup pot) with the freshest and most flavorful chicken broth we've ever tried, containing yet more chicken and more tsukune. We also had the fried, crispy chicken skin topped with curry salt, and their okasan-aji (sweeter, literally "mother's taste") tamago. It was a perfect welcome meal.

Then we tackled the subway system (separate from the JR train system we were navigating earlier), and discovered that our taxi ride cost about four times the amount for a subway ticket covering about the same distance. It's not door-to-door service, but I'm willing to walk a little so that I can spend that money for more food! Besides which, I'll need the exercise to build up an appetite for all the food I plan to eat.

Between our day of travel, food, and the comfy duvet, it was easy to fall asleep at the appropriate hour. Jet lag, schmet lag.