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The fragrant, pleasingly cluttered Central Grocery is a holdover from an era when Italian-run groceries occupied storefronts throughout the city. This timeworn shop across from the French Market still boasts an old-world charm, filled with tall shelves crowded with imported goods and various whatnots, mostly Italian. But that’s not why you’ll see lines out the doors. The crowds are clamoring for muffulettas, classic New Orleans sandwiches that originated here about a century ago. (Slogan: “Imitated by many, but never duplicated.”) A muffuletta comes on a type of round, flattish loaf (not unlike a focaccia) that originated in Sicily. The details may vary, but it typically includes cured meats (capicola, salami) and cheese (provolone). What distinguishes it from a hubcap-shaped hoagie is the topping—a tangy marinated-olive salad. Know this: You don’t need to order a whole one; a quarter-sandwich is still plenty filling for one person.

Take it from a local: If you’re looking to bond with the locals and enjoy some simple fare with lots of taste, drive down to Williche. The family-owned sandwich shop in a street corner in Cabo Rojo is just a block from the town square and a fifteen-minute drive from a couple of beaches.


Williche, a small building with pictures of old Cabo Rojo and slogans proclaiming a love for Puerto Rico, serves you cafeteria-style. It offers juices, different kinds of sandwiches, and milkshakes that are just the right amount of dense. My mom and grandparents started taking me there when I was a kid and I’ve been enjoying their bocadillos ever since. You would expect little (seeing as how they’re basically bread, ham, cheese, onions, tomatoes, and ketchup), but that makes their immense flavor all the more satisfying.


I’ve been living outside of P.R. for more than six years, but every time I come home, I ask my family to stroll down with me by the dominoes-playing older men and to Williche. It’s almost always packed, but I and everyone else know the woman behind the counter (the founder’s daughter). It means we can talk and laugh with her, and get to know anyone else who happens to wander in.


Forget Olive Garden. When you’re in Williche, you’re family.

If you’re in Madrid and in the mood for tapas, you might not know exactly where to go or what to taste. The Mercado San Miguel (metro Sol) takes away all that decision-making by providing you with a taste experience all under one roof. The old, derelict market was renovated just a few years ago and turned into an upmarket culinary emporium of sorts. It has more than 30 food stalls, each selling something different. My favorite is the bellota ham sold at Carrasco, but there is plenty more. You can sample sherries and Rioja wines at the wine bar, or do as Spaniards do and pick away at tapas as you make your way through the market. I highly recommend the croquettes, or croquetas, in one of the outside alleys: they have ham, chicken, shrimp, cheese and a variety of others. The more standard tapas area easy to find, like tortilla, and seafood is beautifully laid out for you to pick and choose. Right in the middle is my top-rated tapa place. I couldn’t find a name for it but it’s the largest counter, shaped like a U, and has everything from potatoes aioli to steamed razor clams, with everything in-between.

Although the restaurant claims it’s “American” (the owner is from San Francisco), local Greeks are laying claim on this all-day hangout. Breakfasts and brunches—creamy Greek yogurt and pancakes—start the day, then around lunch, diners switch over to cheeseburgers and fries, Tandoori chicken, perfect Middle Eastern falafel, and even a couple of Thai dishes. The eclecticism magically works, as ingredients used are crazy-fresh and the atmosphere is low-key and friendly. The team of chefs is as international and colorful as the menu (and as the ceiling, too, which is decorated with multicolored umbrellas), and Mama Roux lies on a pedestrian-only street, which helps, too. As night falls, you may as well stay for dinner, and try the excellent beers on tap.

Yes, New Mexico actually has an official “state question"--since 1996, referring to the ubiquitous chile sauce, it’s “red or green?” Fortunately you don’t have to choose just one; the local way to say ‘can I have both’ is just one word: “Christmas.” If you’re driving through New Mexico on the way to Arizona and points beyond, the only town of any size on I-40 between Albuquerque and Flagstaff is Gallup. For road-trip food here, get away from the Interstate and its humdrum chain restaurants. Seek out Jerry’s--a block off old Route 66. You can’t miss the retro neon sign, and there’s often a line out the door for its New Mexico-style fare. Gallup is surrounded by Navajo, Hopi, and Zuni lands--you might well be one of the few non-Native-Americans eating here at breakfast or lunch. The restaurant allows local vendors to come in and show their wares--usually jewelry and bracelets--while you eat. (You can request a ‘do not disturb’ sign for your booth if you want.) “Hole in the wall” gets overused, but Jerry’s definitely fits that description. Nothing pretentious here--but the flavor of the chile sauce is as good as you’ll find in Albuquerque or Santa Fe. A recommendation: the flat cheese-and-onion-enchiladas, topped “Christmas” style with a fried egg on top. And don’t forget to sop up the sauce with the sopaipillas, saving some of the frybread to top with honey as a dessert afterwards...

Located between Akko and the Sea of Galilee, this working kibbutz and spa hotel is the perfect recharge. I know that sounds cliché, but bear with me. First off, the backstory goes like this: a German-born homeopathic doctor stumbled upon the hillside site in 1923 and decided it was his dream parcel; forty years later, he managed to build a clinic there. The sloping refuge into which he poured his heart and soul is now a 97-room health resort, one that is an institution of sorts in Israel. Among Israelis, Mizpe Hiyamim is (understandably) seen as a splurge. That said, it is not all that fancy by today’s rapidly escalating high-end standards, and therein lies its charm. Where else can you go straight from feeding goats to getting a facial or hot-stone massage? The farm’s bounty enhances the experience. It puts out 50 types of cheese and pretty much all the produce that ends up on the menus for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It’s not necessarily a California-style approach to holistic living—the restaurant caters to meat-eaters, and I found myself deliberating between goat neck, lamb shoulder, and veal tongue for the main course. The spa makes use of olive oil from trees that are grown on-site. This, then, is not just another modern temple to individual well-being, but one that combines land and history—human and natural—in a way that truly makes you truly appreciate your surroundings. That, to me, is the ultimate traveler’s recharge.

With no sign above its unassuming storefront, Tartine is most easily recognized by the line that snakes out its door and down Guerrero Street. People patiently wait for flaky pains au chocolat (the best outside Paris, in my opinion), decadent banana cream tarts, and hot-pressed sandwiches stuffed with fillings like smoked sheep cheese and quince jam. The bakery’s James Beard Award–winning pastry chefs also turn out loaves of stone hearth–baked bread, available every day after 4:30 p.m. Nurse a coffee and nibble on a croissant at the communal table, or take picnic provisions to nearby Dolores Park.

Just a short hour drive away from Kelowna, and only a 5-10 minute drive from Penticton, Naramata sits hidden with acres of green vineyards cascading off of clay cliffs into Lake Okanagan. In the heart Naramara is the historic Naramata Heritage Inn & Spa. Built in 1908, some say it’s haunted with its history of being a school and the first cultural hub upon Lake Okanagan. Today it functions as an ideal getaway with nearby beaches, over 100 wineries and the variety of adventure activities nearby. I always make time to stop in during my wine tasting trips to sit in the sun with a glass of local wine and a variety of local cheese and charcuterie selections. This is foodie stop one shouldn’t miss while visiting the area if not staying with the hotel. Take a tour through the chefs garden, tour the quirky town of artists and vintners, or enjoy the cycling, zip lines, hikes, fishing and water sports all within the Central and Southern Okanagan.

This former industrial site is a one-stop shopping spot for last-minute souvenirs. Weave in and out of the countless alleys and stalls; among the art galleries, toy shops, crafts stores, farmers market and waterfront restaurants, you’re likely to find something tasty to sample or so unique that you have to bring it home.

Established in 1919, O’Keeffe’s favorite café and grocery store still has pride of place in the center of Abiquiu. Stock up on supplies (they have everything from top-shelf liquor to handmade local soap) or dine on New Mexican staples like a green chile cheeseburger, posole soup, or a smothered enchilada. Georgia O’Keeffe biographies are also available. —By Edmund Vallance

In the foothills of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains north of Santa Fe, the village of Chimayó has become famous for its adobe church, “El Santuario,” whose side chapel’s dirt floor is reputed to have healing powers. Every Good Friday, tens of thousands of pilgrims make their way to this “Lourdes of the Southwest.” Others descend upon this valley for more temporal reasons. Just down the road from the Santuario is the century-old adobe home that houses the “Rancho de Chimayó,” a New Mexico institution. Owned by the Jaramillo family, this restaurant is known for its carne adovada--pork that has been stewed to tenderness in red chile. You may or may not believe in the power of the dirt in the Santuario’s floor, but the taste of this valley’s chile will have you convinced that the terroir--the taste of place--deserves its venerable reputation. Get the “combinación picante” so that you can sample a tamal, rolled cheese enchilada, beans and posole along with the carne adovada. And don’t use all of your sopaipilla (the steaming square of puffy frybread) to soak up the chile; save a corner so you can douse it with local honey as a dessert... Chimayó is an easy forty-minute-drive from Santa Fe, on “the high road to Taos.” Across the road from the restaurant is a B&B, run by the same family as well.

I hesitated to try it at Randy LeBlanc’s Pont Breaux Restaurant while all around me the locals dumped it on everything on their plates. It flirted with me next to the salt and pepper while others got up to dance to the lively Cajun music, but I resisted. In the morning sitting down to my eggs and sausage at the Sonnier’s Bayou Boudin Cabins in Breaux Bridge I wanted to give it a shot. With the color of Tabasco but thicker and with a subtler flavor, it tasted of tomato, paprika, garlic powder/juice and tamarind. Mommy like! By lunch at Poche’s, I went right for the garlic sauce to pour liberally over my fried alligator. On the way out I grabbed two bottles from the store shelf to take home. Now, nearly out of my supply way over in Oregon, I am starting to worry. I won’t even share with my loved ones. I tell you am in deep. This stuff starts out easy, and then you develop a fondness, and finally there are certain foods you can’t even enjoy without it. Now when I order etoufee, jambalaya or even a cheese omelet I lament the lack of garlic sauce on the table. The meal is not complete. Oh the sweet addiction! Some places make their own, some have their branding affixed to the label. Poche’s. www.poches.com has a store with all sorts of Louisiana Cajun goodies and will ship.( the answer to my prayers). Cajun Power Sauce is a manufacturer and you can check it out at www.cajunpowersauce.com

I arrived in Sorrento on a hot Summer day. The sun was shining and the Bay of Naples sparkled under the clear blue sky. In the distance, I could see and Mt. Vesuvius on my right and to my left I could make out the Isle of Capri. After I checked into my hotel which stood high atop a cliff, I decided to check out this charming little medieval town, the sites, and the marina. Sorrento used to be a little resort that was a favorite of princes and aristocrats. Since the mid- 20th century, the town has grown and now visitors enjoy its charm and beauty. Sorrento is best known for its yummy limoncello -there are lemon trees all over. Almost every home in town has even a small lemon tree, and the lemon theme is on pottery and tablecloths. Walnuts, olive oil, and ricotta cheese in traditional handmade baskets are very popular items. Sorrento specializes in wood inlay and marquetry items. Then there is the lacework of Sorrento - intricate and very beautiful. The Piazza Tasso is the main square of the town. Make sure to stop and visit the Duomo. While in Sorrento, a trip to the Isle of Capri by ferry or hydrofoil is recommended. Don’t forget the Amalfi Coast. The drive down the coast is awesome. The beauty is stunning -the view around each bend is more gorgeous than the last! Sorrento is so Italy of 50 years ago. Very different from say, Rome or Venice. I’m glad that I didn’t skip this town. Hopefully, I will return. A good guide to Italy will give you info and web sites.

The Sanctuary of the Madonna di San Luca has a commanding presence in the landscape overlooking Bologna. We arrived knowing that it was connected to town by a 2.5 mile portico some say can be seen from space. We dropped our bags at the hotel, grabbed some water and headed for the hills. No map, no directions. There are signs that guide you, eventually. Get a map. The streets and neighborhoods heading up to this massive, covered staircase are wonderful to get lost in, which we easily did. Finding the entrance, we began our pilgrimage to the church at the top of the stairs. There are 15 chapels celebrating the Mysteries of the Rosary, kind of like the stations of the cross for any of the Catholics in the audience. We hike/jogged up to the top, stopping along the way to enjoy the view and the artwork. The 18th century Sanctuary at the top provides spectacular views of the Emilia/Romagna countryside and of Bologna in the valley below. It was hot and sunny on our visit, but one of the locals told us it snows up on the hill during the winter. We had a quick decent, then out to happy hour where the specialty is the appertivo bar. For the cost of a glass of wine or cocktail, many of Bologna’s restaurants invite you to graze gratis at the traditional piccoli morsi trays laid out across the bar. It’s easy to make an evening out of nibbling on a variety of meats, cheeses, pastas, pizzetes and deserts at any number of stops. After a long, inspiring walk; my kind of tradition.

The torrent of Anglo eateries that have popped up across Paris in recent years can largely be attributed to the searing success of Rose Bakery. I had my doubts years ago when I first heard about the internationally-staffed organic canteen - how good could English food be, really? Expensive though it may be, it’s one of my favorite places to go for warm cheese scones, fresh vegetable and a variety of cakes suitable for breakfast or afternoon tea. Rose began in London, hopped over to Paris on rue des Martyrs, expanded to the Marais, settled into a 3rd location within La Maison Rouge foundation in the 12th and most recently took over a 2nd floor corner of the chic department store Le Bon Marché. And that’s saying nothing of their international locations. Its appeal was virtually immediate and RB quickly established itself as the spot among hipsters, artists, celebrities (the likes of Natalie Portman and Julie Delpy, who I spotted last year) and tourists for organic, English fare. They open early, excel at pancakes and healthy veggie options and sell a number of British products to-go. Other establishments may have come onto the scene but Rose is a breakfast mainstay.