Town Restaurant: Ottawa's Prince Charming

Delicious smells in a warm room can make you realize that you're already in your Happily Ever After … welcome to Town.

Once upon a time in castle-laden Ottawa, Canada, lived fair maiden Lori Wojcik and her charming prince chef of a husband, Marc Doiron.

"Darling, I've got a bun in the oven," Marc announced. She widened her pretty eyes and agreed, "Of course, honey. You're a baker."

"No -- I have a dream. I want to open a full restaurant where I can create the most delightful food in all of our Canadian capital's land."

And so it began. . .  after ten years of saving ducats, nigh on three years ago, they flung open the doors of their Bistronomy demi-castle.

Chef Marc is the stuff of which legendary cooks are made.

Acabar: Behold The Beauty With A Brain

I pull open the glitzy golden doors of the restaurant and her beauty takes my breath away.  But I want brains behind the blonde. The exotic seductress pulls me in close. Her luscious lips brush against my ear, making me tingle as she whispers, The way you do anything is the way you do everything.

Her name . . .  Acabar.

After spending some time together she proved that she can carry on a conversation as brilliantly as her gleaming shell.

I hope she has stamina, because I can dine all night.

My Favorite Dish: Duck Gnocchi, Mandarin Oriental, Bangkok

If you have one night in Bangkok, do yourself a favor and toss your passport in the Chao Phraya River. It takes about a week to get a replacement, use that time to explore.

Ever wonder what Versailles would look like if they had money and the good taste to hire interior designers? Visit Thailand.

Some gorgeous madman with a color wheel danced into the palaces and threw passion and style around with wild abandon and expert skill. They cook like that too.

To make an entrance fit for a King of Siam, I hired a private Long Boat and cruised up the river.

  
The city rolled past me, spilling the secrets it's taken centuries to craft. Once docked at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, I glided out onto the terrace of the Verandah Restaurant, and ordered Duck Gnocchi.

Wild duck was roasted for centuries until a flirting glance from a Thai beauty caused it to surrender from the bone, its meaty fall cushioned by fluffy, soft gnocchi. Gods tossed tender greens upon the perfection and a prayer of shaved Parmesan floated from the heavens above.

The chef held out both hands, one filled with spices the other with herbs, balancing them perfectly. He then dropped them confidently in the strong broth and stirred the pot with a rhythm of flavor. Each bite did a lightly salted dance of traditional texture mixed with local exotica as I drew the hand-rolled dumplings up towards my quivering mouth.

I am grateful, I am deserving, I have no passport...

I flew out of the gilded city to get lost in the wild density of the Chiang Mai jungle where Ganesha himself still lives. 

If you're not ready to touch the jungle, never fear -- she touches you.  

 I dream of the duck gnocchi and of Thailand. They both let my imagination run wild.

Mandarin Oriental Bangkok Hotel, Verandah Restaurant  48 Oriental Ave  Bangkok 10500, Thailand

Hyatt Regency Indian Wells: Escape to A Desert Oasis

I needed a getaway plan. I had to go somewhere posh and private, but close. One minute I was watching the Pacific's waves crash endlessly onto the sand and the next, a blur of clothes flew into a small bag and I sped off to crawl down the traffic jam-packed I-10.

Once past downtown Los Angeles, the mind-cluttering skyscrapers shrunk to track houses which dwindled down to ratty industrial parks. My black car was a magician's cape waving over buildings, making them disappear as I passed. Then civilization dropped out of sight and out of my mind.
  

Soon on the horizon, degrees of heat rising from the sand hypnotized me. Rows of towering white windmills waved a welcome into Palm Springs but I blew past my usual exit and kept driving. It was going to take more than the limited amenities of my usual boutique hotel to melt me down -- I needed a resort. I needed the Hyatt Regency Indian Wells Resort & Spa.

Nobu Malibu: Life's A Beach

I look good wet.

Just before reaching shore I dove underwater, then arched my back and exhaled up out of the chilly Pacific, getting my land legs back as I walked a bit unsteadily out of the surf. I wiped the sea water off my face before it could sting my eyes, pushed my open palms across my forehead, and used my fingers to comb my hair back.

My tanned body carried some of the glisten from the sea. I glanced over my shoulder at my beautiful boat, happy to have it but hungry for the food of the sushi gods, Nobu.

Approaching Nobu Malibu was like walking up to a venerable fortress. By the time I swung the wide wooden door open on its pivot, I'd slipped off my backpack and into a tight t-shirt and loose pants.

DBGB: Boulud Hosts The Price Is Right

For a nickel, I used to buy a Hershey's candy bar every day after school. I eat better chocolate now, caring about cacao percentage. I prefer beans that were picked from a bush someone sang to -- and I want all that for the cost of a Hershey's.

One of the finest chefs working today would do it for me -- Daniel Boulud. In New York City, he's bridged the gap between champagne tastes and beer budgets, using his one stellar mind and two gifted hands to make edible magic a reality for every wallet.

With one hand he whips up souffles for his posh clientele in his Michelin-starred restaurant, Daniel. His other deftly guides heritage pork into sausage casing for hungry downtown Manhattanites at his casual joint, DBGB Kitchen. For Big Apple appetites, the little dickens is writing a Tale of Two Eateries.

He stirs the cool into culinary, and thanks to his affordable pub grub menu his fanciful food can now dance on more tongues.