Blog | Globetrotter Dogma

Why is requesting and consuming well-done red meat considered to be a felony by people who prefer it rare? No stranger to fine dining worldwide via travel journalism, I’m routinely alarmed by rare beef aficionados who never hesitate to glare contemptuously at well-done meat eaters as executable heathens. It seems as rude as someone approaching a stranger wearing pink and stating, without cause, “That color makes you look disgusting.” I’ve never met a browned beefeater who felt compelled to belittle fans of pink cow on a plate. Why is this transmission of cuisine contempt a one-way street? Is preferring beef that tiptoes toward bacon—instead of raw bloodied cannibal mode—a culinary crime? I’ve ingested underdone parasitic meat before and never want to court that gamble again. And oh yeah, I think it tastes better cooked.

So, I decided to do something about this state of animal protein affairs at a recent international hotel media lunch in New York City. I cordially sent back the gorgeous filet of prime beef poached in olive oil that was served for a tad of browning. As usual, someone at my table, a Martha Stewart Living radio personality, leered scornfully at me and announced, “Why ruin a perfect piece of meat? Anyone who wants well-done beef at my house is on their own.” Nice to meet you, too?

Roast challenger number 5,000 was the lucky winner of my bottled rant. My first instinct was to approach her later and point to her not-bad-looking shirt and inquire, “Seems like someone likes to buy clothes at K-Mart?” I’d hit my breaking point and wanted to enlighten the self-elected food lord about how it feels to be on the other end of an unprovoked judgment. Instead, when a microphone was passed around to the media to ask the celebrity chef questions, now amplified, I started, “The meal was incredible and that was a dazzling cut of meat.” Then, after a peripheral glint at the carnivore umpire, I continued, “When I sent mine back to the kitchen for a slight browning, someone at my table peered at me as if I should be beheaded. Is that proper behavior in a humane society?” Message sent, I got a laugh, and the chef mused about options for caramelizing filets.

I’m not inexperienced regarding food and not just because I’ve eaten pretty much every day of my life. I’ve gone without it for three days while in a Utah desert survival school, only to regurgitate the contents of my stomach after my first opportunity to consume—the liver of a sheep I’d just slaughtered and cooked on a fire started without matches. Liver and most organ meats are the only rations on my no-go list. But the only thing I don’t like about liver eaters is their breath. I’ve sipped malbecs infused with glacial ice in Antarctica while watching whales breach and spent days deep in the rice-terraced Northern Philippine mountains inside small huts with elders whose job is watching food grow 24-hours a day, so they can fend off thieving “rice-birds.” I’ve devoured gourmet moqueca in a five-star penthouse overlooking Rio, sampled open-fire cooked game in Zimbabwe, and had dinner delivered to my room—where the previous guest was the Queen—in an English countryside castle.

My new pal may live the Martha Stewart life, but I’ve lived too. Did I mention enjoying 10 different types of hummus in a friendly Syrian home, testing mofongo (mashed plantains seasoned with seafood, chicken, or beef) at a breezy seaside Puerto Rican food festival with three of the island’s top chefs, or sharing fries with Journey’s Filipino lead singer in Manila’s Hard Rock Café? Are you bored yet?—caviar at a private dinner in Russia’s Kremlin, hearty bean soup with a Bolivian family who grew the ingredients, Scottish delicacies in the manor owned by the family who invented Glenlivet, and sautéed char while floating near the North Pole in sight of polar bears.

When I ask most self-proclaimed foodies—the types most prone to insult brunette beef—if they’ve ever worked in a restaurant, the answer is almost always no. Starting at age 15, I spent 10 years working in reputable restaurants. That didn’t verse me in the truffle shuffle, but it taught me to discuss food with the pros, namely chefs. Since then, I’ve been contracted by several publications to review restaurants—not posing as a foodie, instead perceiving restaurants as travel destinations. If you don’t fit inside the box, climb on top of it and have a good look around. Or head south—I’ve enjoyed dining with peers in Argentina and Uruguay, pinnacles of fine beef, where fully cooked meat isn’t frowned upon, and often preferred.

I can draw another comparison to this insidious ilk of seesaw bullying—where the heavier kid stays amused by dangling the lighter kid, unaided in mid-air. My Dell laptop has been humming on bumpy roads for 10 years. I’ve never ogled someone pecking away at a Mac and consulted them starting with the word ew. Reverse this brand scenario and the condescension seesaw tilts only one way.

So, beware rare meat connoisseurs, next time you think about insulting someone who likes his or her meat cooked through, think about that pink outfit, your shirt, and your manners. While dining in an Andy Warhol-themed restaurant in Slovakia, a diplomat shared a time-tested Slovak maxim: “He who digs a hole for someone else will fall into it themselves.” Something else fell into that hole, and it surely wasn’t anything well-done.

No hard feelings Martha Stewart Living radio lady—I guess a steakhouse reunion is out of the question.

Slovakia inherited some of the best aspects of its five neighbors, enjoying Czech-style brewing, Polish diligence, Austrian architecture, Ukrainian good looks, and Hungarian stews. The one thing Slovakia can claim outright is the fact that it’s an undiscovered travel jewel. Culturally and geographical diverse, it’s simply a beautiful bargain.

Want to experience classic Europe for a third of the price? Here’s your chance to discover what it was like in the 70s. Being the new heart of Europe is more than a motto. Politically, this was Eastern Europe, but with the massive Ukraine to the east now also being recognized as Eurozone, its true geographic center has shifted into the midst of Slovakia’s mountains.

The people here are rapidly waking up from the Communist hangover. Their creative juices are once again flowing, and they relate to the Western approach to enjoying life. Slovakia blends the best of romantic Europe—picturesque countryside, a charming capital city, ghostly castles, Renaissance churches, divine food and period-perfect museums—with the eastward-expanding European Union.

Slovakia, often confused with the former Yugoslavian country Slovenia, is a little nation with a big spirit. My journey started in the often overlooked capital city, Bratislava, a Danube River-hugging spectacle with all the modern creature comforts—without a fat price tag or annoying crowds. The Danube touches four capitals: Vienna, Bratislava, Budapest, and Belgrade. I found Bratislava to be the most chilled out, as I didn’t hear one car horn or a person sounding like one. Conveniently located downriver from Budapest and upriver from Vienna, Bratislava is where a woman’s Slovak-to-English musings urged me to exercise my feet and my imagination, “You have to use your fantasia.” Her Slavic accent recalls Russia, however the evolving Europe salutes her free will. Unfortunately, many Danube River boat tourists often fail to appreciate the magic to be found along these cobble-stoned streets.

An hour train ride from Vienna, Bratislava looks at the foot of the fabled Carpathian Mountains, which range all the way down into Romania. In the sprawling Old Town, winding pedestrian walkways pass through city gates and ancient city-wall ruins. Looming regally above on a hilltop, the fifteenth century Bratislava Castle was once the capital of the Hungarian Kingdom. While many Americans deem a 1950’s Los Angeles diner a landmark, the residents of this colorful metropolis won’t soon forget the 1500s.

It’s not difficult to see every corner of this fertile land. Seventy percent of Slovakia is mountains, and I explored its high peaks region called the High Tatras. En route, it seems as if every tenth pinnacle has a fourteenth century medieval castle upon it, or at least the crumbling ruins of one. The eerie ruins kept me on the lookout for a reincarnated knight passing on horseback (while making a beer commercial). The big daddy of them all, Spis (spish) Castle is Central Europe’s largest medieval fortress compound.

First built in 1209, it was wrecked by 13th century Tatars, and rebuilt in the 15th century. Partially in ruins, it dominates the landscape from miles away and made me ponder phantoms, and life before remote controls. The sprawling Spis region, including the old-world village of Levoca, is a UNESCO World Heritage Site playground. St. Jacob’s Church showcases the world’s tallest Gothic alter and private museum-caliber paintings and sculptures. Gothic churches abound making memorable photography a cinch.

For people more enchanted with the now, the nearby Slovakian Paradise National Park is a wilderness area that’s home to the Hornad Canyon-side hike, which involves a tricky traverse along horizontal ladders, bridges, snaking steps, chain handholds, and footbridges—mostly over a river. Along the numerous trail options, a few restaurants wait ready with sausage and a brew.

The more you see, the more that newly encountered people and places remind you of others met on your life’s journey. The tallest Tatras weave a North Carolina Smoky Mountain feel, as they often attract a cloudy halo.

In winter, this range takes on another vibe more reminiscent of the Alps. Strbske Pleso—pleso means mountain lake—is the highest mountain topping out at 8,710 feet. It’s accessible via train from Bratislava, and you can literally walk from the station to the Grand Hotel Kempinski, Slovakia’s version of Yellowstone Lodge. Not a shabby commute.

Nearby, Lomnicky Peak (8,635 feet), the country’s second highest, can be summited by foot or cable car. On the summit I was rewarded with views of southern Poland and this factoid: Poland is the only country to elect a professional musician President. The stone building atop Lomnicky offers drinks at the country’s highest café, and for gutsy romantics, a cozy apartment where the overnight rate includes a private dinner service—a way better proposal spot than on a horse-drawn carriage ride. Your chance of meeting an American here is similar to an Americans’ chance of meeting a Slovakian today—a lucky strike either way. (Speaking of luck, the last man to visit the Moon had Slovak heritage.)

Because what goes up must also come down, I made my way to the flat lands, which are salted with 500-year-old manor houses now doubling as swank hotels.

During the 50-year Soviet Regime, most of the historic manor houses or chateaus were converted into orphanages, schools, hospitals, and retirement homes, or left to fall into ruin. The transition from noble family mansions to Communist facilities took its toll. Because it was a Soviet satellite, many otherwise quaint, rural, medieval-flavored valley towns were overshadowed by huge hastily constructed factories adjoined to ugly communist block-style apartment buildings that don’t exactly blend in.

An old Slovakian saying states, “When soldiers come, grass never grows again,” but this patriotic land is proud anew, and a bargain unheard of in the rest of the European Union. It enjoys some of Europe’s best tap water, which also infuses the country’s delightful hand-crafted beers and wines. Slovakia does have a few sharp differences with its neighbors. Czechs are primarily atheists, while Slovaks remain deeply Roman Catholic. And, they’re in an ongoing dispute with Hungary about Danube River hydro dam diversions. But that’s nothing a traveler has to worry about. For visitors, it’s all dobre (doe-bray), a frequently spoken Slovakian term meaning good or ok. In truth, now that Prague is a busy crossroads of colliding tourists, Slovakia is where you can still feel the splendor of once-reigning Austria and Hungary—but more vitally, the atmosphere of reinvention.

With the Iron Curtain fallen and Moscow deemed irrelevant, the resurrected geographic center of Europe shares a time-tested Slovak maxim: “He who digs a hole for someone else will fall into it themselves.” Something else fell into that hole, and it surely wasn’t the unbroken Slovakian spirit. Cheers. The old chapel bells toll yet again.

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Bruce Northam’s THE DIRECTIONS TO HAPPINESS is a 125-country quest for unlikely sages. www.AmericanDetour.com.

* Visit www.slovakia.travel.

* Old Town Bratislava’s thirteenth century Hotel Arcadia, near equally-seasoned St. Martin’s Cathedral and arguably the country’s best hotel, is everything a five-star hotel should be, without gratuitous effort. www.arcadia-hotel.sk.

* I’m not typically a fan of glitzy malls, but Bratislava’s Eurovea mega mall’s outdoor riverside area is a pedestrian paradise with overgrown beanbag couches scattered upon manicured lawns lining 15 welcoming high-value restaurant bargains. www.eurovea.com.

* Bratislava’s Flowers Restaurant is home to Slovakia’s top chef. The dazzling five-star open kitchen space has a towering glass ceiling and walls bejeweled with classic Andy Warhol paintings—his parents, Byzantine Catholics, emigrated to the U.S. from Slovakia. www.flowersrestaurant.sk.

* The Danubiana Art Museum is Slovakia’s MOMA on an island in the Danube River near Slovakia’s visible intersections with Austria and Hungary. Light plays with masterpieces inside and on the outdoor art sculpture park promenade. www.danubiana.sk. Nearby is a human-made whitewater kayakers’ paradise/theme park, Cunovo, fed by diverted river water.

* Hotel Amade Chateau, only 30 minutes outside Bratislava, is a romantic castle-hotel/spa and gourmet restaurant evoking the Versailles era of Louis XVI. The adjoined plush spa complex features a Turkish hammam sharing that ancient style of wellness. This classic, manicured manor house has 20 double bed rooms and 10 apartments. It’s one of the rare places in Slovakia serving afternoon tea—inside one its many noble rooms or beside one of their deluxe pools. www.hotelamade.sk.

* Kremnica is home to a castle (yup, another dazzler) and a famous mint (Mincovna) that’s been pounding out coins and medals since 1329 when it struck the first Old Hungarian groschen coins. www.mint.sk.

* Alpine-lakeside Grand Hotel Kempinski luxuriates in the High Tatras, with grand being the key declaration. It reminded me of a down-to-earth Swiss resort movie set. www.kempinski.com. Not far from the epic Spis Castle, www.spisskyhrad.sk.

* Red Stone Castle, one hour from Bratislava, is a mountain-top, moated fort built in the sixteenth century. The four canon-loaded bastions, some with bat soundtracks, were later used as wine presses and wine cellars. Today, the slate and red limestone masterpiece’s great halls host special events. The original structure at this location built in the 1230s, was demolished for new construction. www.hradcervenykamen.sk.

* Private guide-extraordinaire, Eva Cubrikova, knows and loves every inch of this country. Email her at .(JavaScript must be enabled to view this email address).

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* In 1925 a Slovakian invented the resonating Dobro guitar, which now sounds good in every language.

* The gypsy (who prefer to be called Roma) presence in Slovakia polarizes opinions like any racially tense situation in America. The Roma landed in Europe after leaving India in the tenth century. They’re a small fraction of Slovakia’s 5.5 million people, but the fastest growing population sector. The Roma contribute liberally to the arts, with a knack for music and poetry.

New Orleans steals all of Louisiana’s glory, but up in the state’s northwest otherworld, Shreveport’s down-home charm is a true find—especially while celebrating its personalized incarnation of Mardi Gras. Texas Street, the city’s reinvented cultural spine, is bookended by a Greek-inspired church and a river-crossing bridge that leads to twin-city gaming-town Bossier. The Red River is lined by boardwalks, floating casinos, and legend. “Fast food” here has claws and legs.

Nine highlights…

The Municipal Auditorium, which still hosts performers, is a museum for American music. In 1954, this “poor man’s Grand Ol’ Opry” launched a nineteen year-old Elvis Presley into stardom when he appeared on the Louisiana Hayride radio show as an amateur hour contestant. That appearance made this the third corner of the Elvis worshippers’ pilgrimmage trifecta along with Graceland and his birthplace, Tupelo, MS. Aptly located on Elvis Presley Avenue, this hand-etched Art Deco National Historic Landmark also hosted the early Rolling Stones, and a venue-shattering Jimi Hendrix show, which blew the doors off, scaring away the hillbillies and inspiring at least one young resident to pick up a guitar. www.shreveportmunicipalauditorium.com

One enthused Shreveport local who witnessed that Jimi Hendrix performance at the Municipal Auditorium was Grammy-nominated blues master Buddy Flett. Buddy, also inspired by local blues legend Lead Belly, was later a major influence on renowned guitarist Kenny Wayne Shepherd. That’s how blues music evolves while at the same time preserving its roots. Four years ago, a bug bite in Puerto Rico gave Buddy viral encephalitis, which nearly killed him. His brain swelled and baked, sending him into a coma for months. He had to relearn how to walk, speak, and play the guitar. Meeting this musician was humbling, to say the least. Check out this video, he’s back and once again the real deal: www.youtube.com/watch?v=wfhJWsYn6Hk

The living room-casual Columbia Café serves epic grits and grillades (www.columbiacafe.com). Also impressive, the Columbia Café’s owner, Matt Linn, started the spin-off Krewe of Highland Parade seventeen years ago with a shopping cart and a buzz. This independently minded daylight procession now has dozens of nifty floats and is savored by half the city. It’s a true neighborhood affair, with less pomp and more dancing than the other parades…

…Riding upon on a float and winging beads to miles of fanatical crowds was my chance to experience what it’s like to be honored in a Super Bowl parade. www.thekreweofhighland.org

Artspace, a gallery on a mission to inspire, has three floors that connect artisans with the community. Featured multi-medium artist (and veteran psychiatrist) Dr. Pat Sewell cleverly demonstrates through his sculptures and paintings how we often wear our emotions on our faces, no matter how hard we try to hide what we’re feeling. www.artspaceshreveport.com

Fertitta’s Deli, located in Lead Belly’s “Blue Goose” neighborhood stomping grounds, is Shreveport’s Carnegie Delicatessen. The former archetypal Sicilian corner grocery store evolved into a casual dining attraction that trademarked the “Muffy,” a flat, circular sandwich garnished with olive relish. Since opening in 1927, they’ve sold more than a million Muffy’s—and satisfied as many people. www.papafertitta.com

The Robinson Film Center’s intimate two-screen state-of-the-art theaters with Lazy-Boy seats, also have an inviting bar and restaurant. The non-profit two-story art house hosts filmmaker forums, plays, and courses on film and media education for all ages. Shreveport is a popular film location setting, making this a magnet for the many actors and artists working here. Mobile cocktails permitted. www.robinsonfilmcenter.org

Established in 1856, the dazzling Holy Trinity Catholic Church was relocated two years later. Five of its priests lost their lives treating the victims of the Yellow Fever epidemic of 1873. The present church, in Romanesque Revival style, was built in 1896. Monsignor Earl Provenza welcomes all as friends. www.holytrinity-shreveport.com

Tubbs Hardware & Cajun Gifts, where hardware meets hot sauce, is the Barnum & Bailey of the hardware world. It provides Shreveport’s seasonal essentials, peddling more Mardi Gras beads and King Cakes than screwdrivers. Here you’re treated like a guest, as opposed to being just another number. www.tubbshardware.com

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* More information on all things Shreveport-Bossier is on www.shreveport-bossier.org or (888) 45-VISIT. For Mardi Gras details, visit www.kreweofgemini.com

* I nicknamed Shreveport “Louisiana’s Buffalo,” and plan on returning.

When reviewing restaurants—I’m not a traditional foodie—I focus on how dining destinations makes us feel…where they transport us. Here are two special atmospheres in Scottsdale.

FnB
Ample time for food foreplay

Dining upon a bar often conjures up images of fried food meant to mate with beer. Here, the wide marble bar surrounds a master chef at work who bustles in a fishbowl kitchen. It’s an open window into a fast and furious chef zone, minus the chaos. Most similar set-ups in which the customers are just feet away from the chef serve Asian food. This menu, however, offers an inventive American fusion of healthy ingredients. A particular fave is the spiced eggplant, yoghurt, and pomegranate dish.

Festive but intimate, FnB serves only Arizona’s premium homegrown wines and brews. Pavle Milic, the hands-on owner reigns from Queens. His extended culinary stopovers in Napa, New York City, and a trattoria in Scottsdale bring an unexpected cosmopolitan flair to chef Charleen Badman’s menu. Many of the chef’s specialties are imparted with “smoky love.” Try the French breakfast radish, the braised leeks, and whatever else Pavle recommends.

Wide-open and fun with picture windows, the restaurant is hopping even on Sunday nights. There are 36 seats in all. Chef Badman, an Arizona native, previously owned Inside, a renowned Manhattan, NY restaurant for seven years. 7133 East Stetson Drive, Scottsdale. 480 425 9463. www.fnbrestaurant.com.

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5th & Wine
In your face, then in your stomach

What do you get when you mix a sprawling, upscale coffee hangout and one of Arizona’s best wine lists? Wait, add hearty Southwestern comfort food with new age presentations—and you’ve got an inviting and dandy place to dine and drink. Its 150 bottle wine list has a $100 ceiling, and a daily 11am-6pm happy hour features all wines for $5 per glass (including $10 pours).
Executive chef Mike Bouwne’s bold menu of divine homemade American food, served inside or out, includes swordfish, meatloaf, and the 5th & Wine Burger topped with cambozola or white cheddar, carmelized onions, and arugula on a toasted brioche bun. Ask about the annual Mac-N-Cheese throwdown. Mild-mannered Bouwne claims that his food is blissfully “in your face.” He, however, is anything but overbearing.

Other highlights include live music three nights a week and nice touches like milk bottles on each table full of room-temperature drinking water. According to the bartender, “cold water shocks the palate.” The walls are adorned with colorful dog artwork by www.ronburns.com, allowing this likable establishment to double as an art gallery. 7051 E. 5th Ave., Scottsdale, 480 699 8001, www.5thandwine.com.

I test-drive a lot of travel clothing and gear, which is often an aberration of apparel aimed at safari-goers, photographers, or other adventurers. With loops and pockets everywhere, it’s often fisherman fashion at best. Here are six manufacturers—who won’t take you fishing— that sell the travel attire and gear I swear by when on the road and in my NYC neighborhood after midnight. Although all of these companies sell broad lines, I’m only mentioning a few of my favorites from each collection.

ScottEvest Travel Clothing: A functional t-shirt? I view Western women’s need to carry purses and handbags as what truly sets them apart from men, who cart vitals in pant pockets. Always carrying something on one shoulder creates on-the-go liability and maligns spines. I understand that women don’t want items bulging from their outfits. Alas, here’s an active solution: ScottEvest’s performance t-shirts include two discreet zipped pockets—one above your armpit, another above your hip—that put an end to losing keys, glasses, and phones. The other pocket is a handy stash for cash and credit cards, which makes losing an otherwise chock-full purse or wallet less disastrous. They come in a dozen colors in either cotton or quick-drying, wicking performance mode. Their amazing product line revolutionizes traveling, and I’ve permanently retired my man purse. The classic, waterproof ScottEvest jacket has 18 fully capable, technology-enabled (yet subtle) pockets, one perfect for an iPad and others connected to hidden conduits for headphone cords. Ladies, also consider their sexy, no-bulge 18-pocket women’s trench coat. www.scottevest.com.

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PICK POCKET PROOF travel pants (P^cubed by Clothing Arts), inspired by a traveler who has obviously spent time in Phnom Penh (one of Asia’s pickpocket capitals), are durable multi-pocket cargo slacks featuring a rear pocket-within-a-pocket to hide passports and cash, four zipped and covered anti-theft pockets (two with separate left or right-handed smartphone pouches), expandable, cut-resistant cargo pockets, and an attachable bottle-holding pouch. But, they remain sleek—you don’t look like a safari movie extra. They double as smart and functional urban wear and would have been quite handy on the Williamsburg Bridge pedestrian walkway, where I was once mugged by two gunmen. Bachelor-friendly: wrinkle, rain, and stain resistant. Dieting bonus: two closable tabs that decrease your waist size by an inch (to odd sizes) without notching a belt. Business Traveler fabric blends also available. Ps, They give 20 percent of the proceeds from their line of internationalized shirts to a children’s charity in the region that inspired that collection. www.clothingarts.com.

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ExOfficio (x-o-fish-e-o) has mastered making functional, wrinkle-free travel clothing right for the sharp dresser. One of my favorites is their lightweight slacks with additional zipped pockets inside the standard trouser pockets. The ‘Men’s Nomad Pant’ resemble traditional khakis, but they don’t crease and wash and dry easily in a sink, then dry quickly. Their ExO Dri shirt collection provides up to 7-degrees temperature reduction and their Give-N-Go underwear is incredibly quick-drying and treated with a microbe shield to control odor-causing bacteria. Pack less, do more. Their epic line of button-down and pullover long sleeve shirts are vented, have reliable zipped pockets, and look great. Styles range from incredibly lightweight to chunky thick. www.exofficio.com.

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Icebreaker: If smart dressing for the active lifestyle is all about layering, this is a great place to start. Their stylish lightweight wool bodyfit base layer is a product with integrity—your garment is uniquely barcoded (baa-code) so you can check in with its source, a big-horned Merino sheep living in New Zealand’s Alps, and the different sheep farmers providing testimonials. Taking a break from oil-based synthetics for this naturally silky fleece truly lets your body breathe and doesn’t itch because the fibers flex when they come in contact with skin. When sustainably and ethically produced wool allows you to wick away moisture at the vapor stage, your’re cool in more than one way. Tracing back the origin of your garment allows you to learn how many sheep they have on how many acres, how long the farmers have been there, how much wool they produce, and what kind of life they lead. www.icebreaker.com.

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Tilley Hats can spin/morph anyone Indiana Jonesy, but their real appeal is not having to squint in sun and their incredible dignified durability. Machine washable and bottom-of-your-pack crushable, they always spring back to life. Optional chin strap makes the wind your friend. www.tilley.com.

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Vasque footwear’s JUXT is an understated hiking sneaker that does more than look low-key cool. The performance-minded leather and plastic design takes you from the court to the mountain, and then back to every day. www.vasque.com.