Valley Of Plenty: The French Laundry

Picture this. A perfect, California blue sky. A bright, shining sun. Mountains surrounding a valley like a frame with not a tall building in sight. And yes, grapes, vineyards and wineries as far as the eye can see. There's not much to not like about Napa Valley. It seems to offer the idyllic, carefree life that most of us yearn for but never get around to, and does so in the most spectacular of surroundings. Add to that an unheard concentration of some of the best restaurants anywhere and Napa almost starts to sound like paradise. I feel like every trip up there will make me want to come back for more - a cause certainly helped this time by a long-awaited visit to the French Laundry.

Spanish-Canadian Solitude: Navarra

While I've gotten over being the only vegetarian at most dinner tables, I've still never enjoyed traveling alone. No doubt there are times when one needs to be by themselves, but I definitely do not feel that way when being away from home. Whether it is for work or pleasure, I try and avoid solo travel as much as I can. Besides walking around and having to visit places by yourself, the additional major side effect is that you end up needing to make dinner reservations for one. Not only does it make for a very quiet dinner, it usually puts a big crimp in the ability to try "everything on the menu". Notwithstanding, there will always be times when circumstances necessitate such travel and I found myself heading up to Ottawa on one such occasion a few weeks ago. Making the best of the situation, I scoped out Ottawa Magazine's 2012 list of top restaurants and landed upon Navarra.

The Simplicity Of Spaghetti: Scarpetta

My childhood was very conflicted. My parents loved to travel and explore new places, and they loved taking us everywhere too. Before the ripe old age of 12, I had already been to Australia, Bangkok, Switzerland, Mauritius, London, Hong Kong (twice), Singapore (thrice) and even 2 different Disneylands (Paris and Orlando). And yet, wherever we went, we always ate Indian food. There was no exploration when it came to matters of the stomach. There was always an Indian restaurant waiting to be found in a city and somehow, we always found it. If it hadn't been for my uncle AK, I would probably have left Switzerland never knowing what fondue was. The one exception to the rule, however, seemed to be for Italian food. Pizza and pasta were somewhat tolerable to my dad, and we always looked forward to the respite it provided from the cuisine monotony, creating an everlasting bond with the food. Yet, it almost got to a point that when my food horizons were finally expanded, new Italian restaurants were one of the last few I wanted to try. Still, it is always hard for me to say no to a great bowl of pasta and luckily for it, Scarpetta has a few.