AGIOS NIKOLAOS, Crete – I expected to find Serge Gainsbourg smoking at the bar each evening. Exactly my scene. I channeled my inner Jane Birkin and made this spot my own.
MARFA, Texas – We went deep into the Chinati Mountains to find abandoned Texas Ranger houses, Native American rock art, and panoramic vistas perched high above the ranch.
AUSTIN – Paul Qui had invented a dish that he knew would drive the drunk crowd nuts: deep-fried roasted beets dusted with shichimi and dressed with kewpie mayo. Beets? For real.
FLORENCE, Italy – It's a baroque explosion of vaulted ceilings, endless rooms, and gilding galore. You'd be forgiven for thinking you were a long-lost Medici in this stunning perch.
ROME – Roman cuisine is basic, served by rightfully proud waiters. It is not mind-blowing and it is not rude. And it is definitely not Eat, Pray, Love, and even less Eat, Pay, Leave.
PARIS – But once inside, I encountered the unexpected: perverse touches tucked discreetly among the baroque grandeur of crystal chandeliers and gilded settees.
PARIS – The increasing rarity of delightful small hotels must be the direct result of a clambering desire for trendy, boutique shitholes. Deborah Needleman finds her perfect inn.
Nothing compares to Pan Am, or how I remember it, and memory does tend to fetishize. While getting there used to be half the fun, a typical flight is now characterized by a low hum of ordinariness.
