Donna Wheeler reviews the Yin Yang Kitchen, Hong Kong – a great place to begin the Chinese Year of the Dragon.

Wan Chai might be better known for its bankers and girlie bars, but its streets still turn up some beautiful examples of Hong Kong’s unique 19^th and 20^th architecture. It’s in such a building, a listed Grade II Heritage tong-lau or early 20^th-century tenement, that Margaret Xu Yuan, one of Hong Kong’s most interesting chefs welcomes her guests.

With only three tables downstairs, an upstairs room for the occasional large booking and a tiny kitchen spliced in between, this is a uncommonly calm and intimate space in a city better known for its showily high-octane dining scene.  But the room is quintessentially Hong Kong, and sets the scene for food that also honours and reimagines the city’s many-layered cooking styles, and captures its true culinary heart.

A plate of starters feels like a voyage of discovery; time to get your bearings. There’s an emblematic black and white tofu bathing in a seaweed brine, then small bites of various vegetable – a small baton of eggplant with lychee vinegar and fried shiso leaves, a sweet picked cucumber, a slice of fig on a cube of corn ‘cheese’.

A slice of salted black pork belly, served with a garlic and wine vinaigrette, is an earthy delight, followed by the complex package of sea urchin and mango in a chicken stock jelly bubble, then drizzled with organic honey. Sea whelks, as varied as a haul of seashells from a day at the beach might be, fill a vase of sea water spiked with chilli.

These are procured by local divers, and are only taken from the freshest waters of the South China Sea. The meat is plucked out with a little wooden spear, each a new discovery: a succulent meaty slab, another a tough but highly flavoured nugget, some are like the most silken mussel. A spiky pod is cracked open to reveal a nut – an English translation hasn’t been found but it seems to be vaguely related to the chestnut – and sits next to a mound of briny sea salt. It’s a fairytale like offering, a fabulously elemental pairing.

Yuan grows much of the produce at her own organic farm in the New Territories; she explains that the Hong Kong palette has become jaded by too much MSG, salt and spices so her dishes are an attempt to reinject an interest in the produce itself, its essential flavours and qualities. Her cooking methods also speak of a less is more philosophy, with many of Yin Yang’s signature techniques gleaned from Yuen’s country neighbours. Yuen has adapted the Hakka housewives traditional stone grinders and clay and charcoal ovens for a commercial urban kitchen.

These methods come to the fore in her signature mains. Diners can choose aher Yellow Earth chicken, a supernaturally crispy whole bird, Jade perch with seaweed jelly cubes or taro crust or sea lettuce depending on the season, or Red Hot – a baby pig. If its pork, a fat little leg will appear for inspection before it’s whisked away to reappear simply chopped into a pile of fleshy chunks, with just a jammy, musky lychee sauce on the side. The leg is roasted with the bone in, its rippling crust of volcanic crisped skin giving way to sweet succulent flesh. Like the whelks, Yuen likes to the source of her produce – the pigs that end up on her plates are raised by a farmer who feeds them traditional organically-grown foods, supplemented with Chinese medicine herbs.

Any Chinese banquet worth its salt will contain a crab dish and Yin Yang’s menu is no different. Here, there’s three components. The crab’s exsected shell flavours a dish of egg white and young coconut meat, a dish of such haunting, ethereal beauty, it’s hard not to feel emotional or nostalgic when trying to recall it. But a side of organic rice, unctuous with fruity olive oil and studded with wilted dark green herbs, brings you back to earth. Not to be overlooked, is the flesh-flecked soup: dense, gelatinous and salty, yes, Cantonese to the core.

To finish, Yuan’s desert speciality is her contemporary take on traditional ground rice cakes, but on this blistering mid-summers night, there is, instead, a ball of lemongrass ice cream, organic of course, richly yolky and intensely fragrant. Simple enough and simply enough.

Theatre undoubtedly plays apart in the Yin Yang experience, with Yuan’s highly lyrical presentation, her elegant staff’s hushed hands-on dealings with the meat courses and the low lit dining room. But her cooking itself is far, far away from the trickery of the global gastronomic chemistry set. There’s an almost brutal honesty to it, the powerful primal sensual presence of each dish jolting you out of the cerebral realm. Every mouthful demands your complete attention, and for this diner at least, a rather joyous meditation. The crab course I loved so much was served on a fine china plate declaring ‘more please’ in neat blue san-serif type. After such a feast you definitely won’t be wanting more, but Hong Kong, in fact the world, really does need more chefs like Margaret Xu Yuan.

Yin Yang Kitchen
www.yinyang.hk
18 Ship Street, Wan Chai
(852) 286 608 68 | booking@yinyang.hk

Gorizia’s post-war watchtowers and cyclone fences remain but you can now, of course, meet the border on your own Eurozone terms: put your right foot in and shake it all about, or hop, amble or drive out of Italy without even a flash of a passport. (The Slovenian new town, Nova Gorica, on the other side is far from pretty, but its shops, bars and casinos pulse with life while the original Gorizia slumbers.) Cold War absurdity aside, this small, stately city has long been a mutable, and cannily self-assured, place, its winding inner streets awash with multi-tongued ghosts, their trade and negotiation, faith, art and war.

Palazzo Lantieri is not a hotel but a private home, the guests that came before you a ripe assortment of popes, poets and playwrights, warriors, radicals and Hapsburg royals. It’s as discreet as it is elegant, a former 14th-century fortress turned noble house unassuming behind high walls, and its owners Carolina Lantieri and Niccolò Piccolomini are jovial and generous hosts.

The bedrooms have astonishingly beautiful antiques, towering stufas and echoing parquetry floors, yet its infused with an easy, enveloping warmth. Outside is a wonderful garden, its bowers and paths modelled in the Persian style, leading to a darkly canopied apex. It’s calm and intriguingly labyrinthine, mannered but with the reassuring markers of everyday life: a wendy house, ponds with a tiny becalmed boat and the frolicking family beagle (who recently made his film debut in a Werner Herzog film we are told).

Today’s Lantieri faces are mirrored in several centuries of portraits that line the public reception rooms, but they are a family firmly of the times. Large site-specific installations by Jannis Kounellis, Jan Fabre and Michelangelo Pistoletto and works by Getulio Alviani, Giulio Paolini and Donatella Spaziani now form an integral part of the palazzo’s art collection. These contemporary works are inspired by, and continue to interact with, the objects and architecture of other eras. In the former cellars, Clementina Lantieri, Carolina’s sister, has a ceramics studio, holding classes as well as selling works known for their graceful form and jewel-like glazes.

The family can suggest places to eat in walking distance or the best dining rooms in the countryside – the local food is enthralling even if some dishes, like the dustily sweet or astringently herbal filled raviolis, and a preponderance of game, can be a jolt for those still expecting familiar Italian flavours. Dishes are often startlingly different even from the stalwartly Friulian cuisine of Udine, under an hour away, or the Venetian-influenced food of Grado, on the nearby coast. My memory, perhaps clouded by the superb (and, when here, cheap) Collio Goriziano or Colli Orientali whites, recalls first the colours of the food: all red and white and deep brown and green, seemingly the landscape writ large on the plate. Its tastes too are of the earth, rich and comforting, but also of empires and trade routes distant in time if not place. If you were to eat only one thing, though, it should be the gubana, a flaky, filled snail of a pastry. This nutty, fruity, boozy roll can be found elsewhere in eastern Friuli (and across the border too, the name coming from the Slovenian word ‘gubat’, which, loosely translated, means ‘how we roll’), but Gorizians like to claim their own as exemplar.

The city itself is not without things to see, including a magnificently-sited 13th-century castle, a blingy Baroque cathedral with Gothic chapel attached, an 18th-century synagogue and ghetto streets, their former gates garlanded with serpents and flowers, not to mention a harrowing WWI museum and various memorials to this bitterly contested front. And the afore mentioned minute-to-midnight era mementos. But there would be nothing at all wrong with making a journey here to simply go to sleep in such surrounds, and to wake to the deep green silence of the Lantieri garden.

All images © Donna Wheeler

Chinatown, New York is Holiday Goddess Editor Karen Moline’s $5.50 lunch location of choice.  And her young son loves the cool, cut-price shopping too. Story: Holiday Goddess Editors.

Chinatown Bargains

You go to New York for the bagels and the Manhattan madness, right? Actually, a lot of New York locals would disagree with your choice. For them, Chinatown is the real New York, in a funky, downtown way. And if your travel budget just dipped below $50 a day, then this is the place for you. The slippers are a great alternative to your white, terry-towelling hotel room freebies (and you’ll have money left over for lunch).

If you really love Chinese food then head to the home of the cult $1 dumpling takeaway – Prosperity Dumpling. It may be a hole-in-the-wall but there is a reason why so many women queue up to buy five chive and pork dumplings for a dollar.

Prosperity Dumpling has no website, like most Chinatown eateries, but it does have a solid fan base on the cult travel website Yelp. Read the (nearly) 900 glowing reviews here.

The legendary Tings

Not keen on dumplings? Even the delicate, tiny, fried kind? Chinatown is still a wonderful place to wander, in the morning, then settle in for lunch. Don’t miss the Fuleen Restaurant. It’s hard to think of any other restaurant in New York that could have won rave reviews in a Michelin guide, Zagat or Time Out, with a fixed-price $5.50 lunch menu.

Some of the dishes on the menu at the Fuleen Restaurant not make much sense to you – it might even have you pulling a face – but try, try, try. Fillet Seabass with Loofah is not some new delight from The Body Shop. It is apparently rather delicious. If you are with small children, though, they may want to try the jellyfish. Just for fun. Fuleen Seafood Restaurant is at 11 Division Street.

If you are one of those women who love their own bowl of fresh fruit in a hotel room, come to Chinatown for the biggest, freshest, most fascinating range of fruit in New York. Everything is plump and shiny, laid out for your perusal.

How to begin your morning wander in Chinatown? Take the subway to either Grand Street or Canal Street and just follow the crowds.

Lunch!

Remember landmarks as you go, to find your way back. The shop with the smiling golden pig in the window. The statue of Confucius. The extraordinary green Chinese slippers (the kind you know you’d like to put on a shelf somewhere, even if you don’t wear them).

Chinatown is full of alternative enticements. Foot rubs and shoulder massages. Pretty paper lanterns which squash flat in your suitcase – perfect for a summer garden party on your return. And best of all, if you have children with you, the white plastic buckets full of frogs and miniature turtles. To be purchased, then eaten, by the locals.

It’s all enough to make you long for a good cup of tea. And in New York (so deprived of tea) this is the place to come.

It might seem ironic that the Chinese should be selling the best teabags in America, but Ten Ren is the place to come. While you are here, take a tiny china cup to sample the more unusual teas, free. The black teabags sold at Ten Ren are great for your hotel room, or nice to take back. Ten Ren is at 75 Mott Street between Bayard Street and Canal Street.

Finally, if you have never been to a Buddhist Temple, try the Mahayana Temple Buddhist Association at 133 Canal Street, between Chrystie Street and Forsyth Street. The glittering gold Buddhist statues inside are remarkable. And for a $1 donation in the slot, you can take home a tiny rolled-up scroll of parchment, with a Buddhist blessing.

Read more about Chinatown, New York in The Holiday Goddess Handbag Guide to Paris, London, New York and Rome.

The Tea Cosy in Brighton is heaving with so many tributes to Princess Diana, it’s hard to find room for a cup and saucer.

This cult, word-of-mouth hit in gay-friendly Kemptown (fifteen minutes’ walk from Brighton Station) is worth the queue, though. Pick a day out of the tourist season, and you may even have two armchairs to yourself. Along with an unmatched view of a loo seat, allegedly inhabited by a well-known member of the Royal Family.

The old-fashioned advertisements for Lyons Tea, the smell of hot buttered toast, and the delicate china are hard to resist. Even the most hardened Starbucks fan (and Republican) has to give in, once the tea-pot arrives wearing a hand-knitted frock.

If the pink sign is up outside, urging you (in a very Diana-like manner) to ‘Pop in for tea’ then you’re in luck. The Tea Cosy does not keep coffee-chain opening times, though, so if it is shut when you call, remember that there are lots of other old-fashioned Brighton cafes within a few minutes’ walk.

If you’re looking for another regal alternative, then afternoon tea at Brighton Pavilion, which many admirers have called the most beautiful palace in the country, is not far away.

Princess Diana was never a resident, but Queen Victoria (whose portrait hangs in The Tea Cosy) was a frequent visitor. If you’re planning a tour of the Pavilion, remember that the tea-room is on the top floor, and also has a good selection of old-fashioned tea. Though without the hand-knitted cosies. Or the royal loo seat. The Tea Cosy, 3 George Street, Kemptown, Brighton. The Royal Pavilion, Brighton is minutes away from The Tea Cosy, in front of The North Laines. Trains run regularly to Brighton from London Victoria.

Dubai’s luxury afternoon tea scene has a new contender for crown of Best Posh Scones. Burj Khalifa, the world’s tallest tower, is offering sky high tea elegance on it 122^nd storey… but is it good enough to knock the Burj Al Arab off its sumptuous perch? Tamara Pitelen investigates.

The taking of afternoon tea is a wonderfully indulgent and girly affair. Everything’s all dainty and elegant and petite. Little silver teaspoons are used to stir cubes of sugar into tea served in the kind of delicate bone china cups that grandmas keep in glass cabinets; your waiter wears white gloves and may even bow at the waist.

An afternoon tea outing is one of those times when matching your shoes with your handbag is a good thing. This is twinset and pearls land, the world of eensy weensy sandwich fingers, teeny cakes, and melt-in-your-mouth scones – served warm along with thick clotted cream and strawberry jam that’s got lumps of real strawberries.

Afternoon tea is a time to linger for hours gossiping and gorging oneself a bit… because the only thing about this liquid affair that isn’t ‘dainty’ is the capacity of the women gathered when it comes to consumption of the darling little scones piled with cream and jam.

In Dubai, the notion of afternoon tea is taken very seriously in certain circles. The main contender until recently was the Burj Al Arab, the iconic sail-shaped hotel with the erroneous reputation for being the world’s only seven star hotel (it’s not, there’s no such thing). The Burj Al Arab does a mighty afternoon tea. It’s a languorous affair of endless tea, scones, sandwiches and cakes in surroundings of shameless opulence and luxury.

But now there’s a new kid in town and they have a hook that’s hard to beat; the highest high tea in the world.

Sitting up in the clouds on the 122^nd floor of the famous Burj Khalifa, officially the world’s tallest building, is a new contender for the crown of best afternoon tea.  This new venue, called The Lounge at At.mosphere, opened in January 2011 giving ordinary folk the chance to eat posh scones in the sky. Does it though, give long-time favourite Burj Al Arab a run for its money?

Figuring there’s only one way to find out and always looking for an excuse to spend hours drinking tea and gossiping, myself and a friend put on our frocks and headed to Burj Khalifa for some unofficial scone reviewing.

First, there’s the process of getting up to the 122^nd storey of the world’s tallest building. Happily, they’ve also got the world’s fastest elevators but the journey still takes a few minutes because, well, it’s a long way.

Once up there, the Lounge is all ambient gorgeousness and understated elegance. Gracious waitstaff glide across the floors to show you to your table, which is hopefully right up against the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the gobsmacking view of Dubai and beyond.

So, what’s on the menu? First up comes a serving tray filled with scones, clotted cream and lemon curd (the lemon curd was amazing).

Next course is the sandwiches which include cucumber with cream cheese and caviar; organic salmon gravalax with horseradish mousse, and egg mayonnaise with truffle and caviar.

After that is the ‘warm’ course, you choose from either poached quail eggs Florentine or chicken and mushroom quiche. The serving sizes are smaller than the palm of your hand.

Then come the teensy little desserts, mouth-sized bites of deliciousness such as apricot and sweet almond pudding; salted caramel éclair, and chocolate and lavender Mille Feuille.

So how does the highest High Tea in the world compare with the world’s only so-called seven-star High Tea?

The Burj Al Arab had better service and pulls off the whole ‘air of elegance and luxury’ with shedloads more aplomb than the Burj Khalifa. Also, the Burj Al Arab’s waitstaff were much more polished and experienced and perfectly attentive. Most importantly of all though, the Burj Al Arab will keep the scones, cakes and so on, coming for as long as you can find stomach room for them!

 Au contraire at Burj Khalifa where myself and my friend were left rather aghast at being politely but firmly told, ‘I’m sorry but no’ when we asked for more sandwiches, having scoffed the initial five finger-sized portions like gannets.  “It’s just one serving per table Madam.” [gasp!]

 In addition, the Burj Khalifa didn’t have any soy milk. So, all up the Burj Al Arab is still King of the High tea in our book, having said that the one thing Burj Khalifa has that can’t be beat is its lofty location.

And considering At.mosphere is just two storeys below the At The Top observation deck, which is the highest point people can travel up the world’s tallest tower, it’s probably better value for money to pay AED 290 and get afternoon tea thrown in with your panoramic view as opposed to paying AED 150 (if you book in advance) for the view alone on the observation deck.

THE ‘NEED TO KNOW’ DETAILS
What: High Tea at The Lounge At.mosphere
Where: Burj Khalifa, Downtown Dubai
Price: AED 290 without alcohol or AED 360 with a glass of Bollinger Brut Cuvee Special
Contacts: www.atmosphereburjkhalifa.com or email reservations@atmosphereburjkhalifa.com

Get Tamara Pitelen’s new book called Spokes, Blokes and Blarney, all about the time she spent three months cycling around Ireland in search of twinkly-eyed Irish men for husband material (think ‘Bill Bryson meets Bridget Jone’). It’s on Amazon at http://amzn.com/1463569750 . Or, get a free copy on PDF! Just send an email to spokesblokesandblarney@gmail.com with the subject heading ‘Free copy of Spokes please’ and you’ll get an automated reply with a link to a free download. Just make sure you have Free copy of Spokes please in the subject head.

If you’re staying in London on a home exchange or even using a galley kitchen in a studio apartment,  it’s time to enjoy winter – because the city’s best  foodie finds are never more than a few tube stops away. The very best is Borough Market, which kicks off at breakfast-time on Thursday, Friday and Saturday (try the gourmet bacon rolls) and has plenty of places to shop and dine, both inside and outside the market gates.

Holiday Goddess Handbag Guide contributor Justin North is a confirmed fan. “You can surrender to sausage, or ogle olives,” he told editor Alison Carmichael-Rulten.  The Borough is on almost every chef’s list, it seems, and if you are lucky enough to be able to cook during your London holiday, it’s worth stopping, and shopping.

Justin’s own books rely on just the kind of fresh produce Borough Market specialises in. So if you’re in London to cook, then begin with either French Lessons, or his classic guide, Becasse.

Even if you’re only at Borough Market to enjoy a Melton Mowbray pork pie, though (and to take home a bag of fruit and flowers) don’t miss the chance to enjoy a mulled wine in The Globe on Bedales Street, later.

Holiday Goddess editor Andreina Cordani also loves Borough Market, but advises “Do get cash out before you come, as there are long queues for ATM’s and many of the vendors don’t take cards.”

Borough Market is also an excellent place to buy Christmas presents on a budget. Our discovery this winter was the huge jar of honey (complete with honeycomb inside) retailing for around half the price you might expect to pay in an upmarket West End store. Honey, we love Borough Market…walk from London Bridge tube station.

Market stall honey

New Jersey’s not the first place you think of when you’re after olde-worlde charm, but then Hoboken’s always been the state’s maiden aunt — the one with the elegant charm and wads of money under her mattress. It’s a chiconomical place to find a hotel when you are visiting New York. J Mag Editor, cult blogger (Hey Man Now You’re Really Living) and Holiday Goddess Jenny Valentish loves it…

Hoboken, the ‘mile square city’ may offer panoramic views across the Hudson of Manhattan — just minutes away by train — but its population only teeters around 40,000 and the architecture’s barely been touched since the city’s 19th century township days. Add to that the old-fashioned delicatessens and grocery stores, and Hoboken’s a Christmas card-perfect vision of how American cities used to be.

While family SUVs are rife, Hoboken’s also fairly bohemian and alternative health conscious, and can offer a budget alternative to New York accommodation that actually doubles your experience if you yomp off to the Big Apple during the day.

Most cafes have wireless internet access, while for fantastic cheap meals look up Zafra Kitchens , Karma Kafe for Indian and Maria’s Italian Kitchen for a Sinatra-obsessed Italian family experience.

The PATH subway to New York goes from Hoboken Terminal to Christopher St (which drops you in the gay-friendly West Village), 9th St (Greenwich Village and Washington Square Park), 14th St (Chelsea, south and Union Square), 23rd (Chelsea, north), 33rd (Herald Square, Macy’s), taking around 15 minutes to reach its final destination. Behind the Hoboken Terminal, NY Waterway gets you across the Hudson by ferry to either Pier 11/Wall Street or the World Financial Centre.

More details at the website

Rebecca Sparrow knows where all the writers go for a coffee in Brisbane – and the lawyers, musicians, doctors, creatives, yummy mummies…

Writers
Wanna know where all the writers go when they’re not hunched over a laptop tapping out a best seller? Wordsmiths, dubbed the Writers Café, is located on the University of Queensland’s St Lucia campus, next to the UQ bookstore and the beloved UQ Press. Sit under the trees and admire the carvings which honour significant UQP authors like David Malouf, Peter Carey, Thea Astley, Janette Turner-Hospital and Hugh Lunn. Or maybe just tuck your 200,000-word manuscript under your arm and try and stalk some of the UQP staff. Better still, grab a coffee and keep your eyes peeled for some of UQP’s rising stars like Alasdair Duncan and Kate Hunter. Staff House Rd, The University of Queensland (next to the bookshop, across the road from Staff House), St Lucia Tel: 3365 2001

Lawyers
Next time you’re up on some of those pesky criminal charges, try getting some free advice by eavesdropping at Merlo’s at 239 George Street. Lawyers, barristers, legal secretaries, possibly the odd felon, they’re all hanging out there or at Hard Coffee (opposite Post Office Square) where they alternate between caffeine and green tea. Merlo’s 329 George Street, City

Creative Types
For a slice of Brisbane’s bohemian side, you need to venture into Brisbane’s quirkiest café, Sassafras on Latrobe Terrace, Paddington. Students, vegetarians, rich people from Clayfield who are trying to look hip – they’re all hanging out in this eccentric worker’s cottage. Interestingly the latest trend is to forgo the morning coffee and go straight for Sassafras’s sensational hot mochas and hot chocolates, which are made from melted down dark chocolate. In a world full of Keira Knightleys, Sassafras is the Helena Bonham Carter of Brisbane’s café world. Sassafras, 88 Latrobe Terrace, Paddington Tel: 3369 0600

Musicians
If it’s musos and artists you’re looking for, all you need to do is hang out at Fat Boys Café, the foodie part of Ric’s in the Brunswick Street Mall. Open 24 hours on Fridays and Saturdays, everyone from those Powerderfinger boys to Regurgitator (and pretty much every touring interstate band) ends up here in the wee hours having a coffee and snacking on one of the famous $4 all day breakfasts. Ric’s Bar and Fat Boy’s Café, 321 Brunswick St, Fortitude Valley Tel: 3854 1772 http://www.ricsbar.com.au

Cyclists
You’ll spot them, in the early hours of Saturday and Sunday morning, gulping down lattes in their lycra bike shorts and generally being far too annoyingly fit looking. Brisbane’s cyclists tend to hang out in packs in a few key places around town but two most popular is probably the Regatta Hotel in Toowong. Regatta Hotel, 543 Coronation Dr, Toowong Tel: 3871 9595

Accountants
Brisbane’s bean counters tend to congregate over their skinny lattes and short blacks at Bar Merlo on Market Street. Rumour has it that if the prices go up, even by five cents, these guys notice. And then ask for a receipt. Bar Merlo, 10 Market Street
, City Tel: 3221 2616

Council Staff
It makes sense that Brisbane’s hundreds of Council staff have found a little green, garden oasis in the middle of the urban grind. Step inside Java Coast at 340 George Street, next to the old Dendy Cinema, and you’ll find a hive of Council workers who are probably working on big decisions like, I don’t know, whether or not to build a bridge from the city to your front door. Java Coast’s shopfront hides the calm, green courtyard out the back. Definitely a place to get your mojo back. Java Coast Cafe, 340 George Street, City Tel: 3211 3040

Doctors
Have a weird rash that just won’t go away? Forget the PA Emergency Department and just head to Essence on Tottenham Street, Buranda. This is where the Princess Alexandra doctors go for a bite to eat and that all-important caffeine hit (so that they can hold the scalpel straight at the end of that 53 hour shift they’re probably working.) Cafe Essence, Shop 12, Tottenham Street, Buranda Tel: 3891 2866

Yummy Mummies
The days of being a housebound, hausfrau are over, baby! Today’s yummy-mummies are taking their tribe of kids, their Jeep strollers and their size four-selves out to places like Breathing Space at Indooroopilly. Breathing Space offers gourmet food, great coffee and kiddie friendly meals (a nice change from those very special Phenergan milkshakes they get at home) plus a big “supervised” play area. If you’re not a parent, just be careful, you could become stroller road-kill. Breathing Space Café, 10 Lambert Road, Indooroopilly Tel: 3371 0222

Tamara Sheward discovers that Melbourne’s Borsch Vodka and Tears delivers everything it promises. Well, almost

Not many establishments spell it out as clearly as this Melbourne favourite: a cross between straight-up bar and all-in restaurant, BVT has certainly got the borsch (Polish, Russian, and vegetarian, not to mention chicken meatball and “gypsy” soups) and it’s definitely got the vodka (over 100 different types including variations that exist nowhere else in this country).

Tears, however, are BYO… although muck around with too many Polish Bitches (cherry-infused vodka with a wallop of Tabasco) and they’re on the house.

Taking a seat inside BVT is like snuggling up in a babushka’s parlour — perfumed by dill and dumplings, it’s warmly-lit and comfortingly decked out with arbitrary antiques, enchanted mirrors and, of course, shelf upon shelf of obscure vodkas. Those after a true Slavic session — collective style — huddle over rollmops and roll-yer-owns at tightly packed tables out the front. Definitely nothing to cry about.

Get your fill at 173 Chapel St, Windsor, or salivate online at http://www.borschvodkaandtears.com
Bookings recommended: phone (03) 95302694

It’s not by chance that Genova is not one of Italy’s prime destinations; its impacted verticality can be daunting, and its sprawling port and general air of having gone-to-seed are often off-putting to the casual visitor. (An unusually hip shopkeeper opined to me Genova was fifteen years behind other similarly-sized Italian cities, in a country that was itself fifteen years behind the rest of Europe.) But it has a few things going for it: the extreme beauty of its physical setting, with a cityscape of painted 18th-century apartment buildings tumbling down the Ligurian Apennine hills to the Mediterranean, and a largely intact mediaeval core and a rollicking maritime history. Not to mention a delightful way with food and wine, including producing the world’s most sublimely fragrant and intensely green pesto.

I lived through the good part of last summer in the city, with my two daughters and my Italian-born husband; his mother had grown up there before marrying his Puglian father, and then migrating to Australia in the mid 1970s. Rather like in Michael Winterbottom’s film Genova, it was a summer stained with grief, through the film’s absent mother was obviously not me. My own mother had died suddenly the year before and, as a travel writer might be expected to do, I sought the solace of disorientation, the familiarity of the unfamiliar.

The hot, humid days were sometimes punctuated by trips to the beach, but when Italy’s terminally-in-decline rail system was, in the heat, too much of a hassle to contemplate, we made do with the port’s postage-sized but location-perfect swimming pool or walks – up and down and around the city’s hillside network of stairs, grand public lifts and spiralling red brick paths, searching for glimpses of the sea and a place to spread a picnic rug. Then there was the endless shopping for food, devising menus, preparing food, and eating. Italy’s highly ritualised culinary habits can be as claustrophobic as Genova’s centro storico, but like the tightly wound knot of an ancient city, they can also bolster and comfort.

Our first apartment in the city was in the heart of that old city, in a ruined palazzo, as overdecorated as it was grimy, but with the small blessing of a terrace perched at the base of a 14th-century tower. The kitchen was barely functional, so we ate each night at a small restaurant downstairs cheerily named Mangia Buono (via di San Bernardo, Genova). The menu was hand-written and changed daily, but there were no surprises in the rota of cucina tipica Genovese staples – borage-stuffed ravioli, minestrone infused with pesto, rabbit braised with tiny black Taggiasche olives, sweet, fat, flash-fried anchovies with no adornment but a wedge of lemon. Why fix what isn’t broken?

One of the first dishes I ordered was corzetti di levante, large coin-like disks of pasta, the smooth blondness of its pinenut and parmesan sauce shot through with an astringent jolt of marjoram, the city’s signature herb. (The ‘levante’ mentioned in the pasta’s name does not refer to the Middle East, as I first thought, given both the pine nut topping and the Genovese’s wide-roaming ways, but rather is a nod to the eastern Ligurian towns of Chiavari and Recco from which the dish hails.)  The corzetti themselves were each embossed with a pattern, the indentation not just making for a pretty face, but also allowing for each to hold its fair share of sauce.

Up the hill in apartment number two, with a better kitchen and the summer coming to an end, I wondered how I could go about making my own. The pasta dough simple enough, yes, but what of the stamp? The disks could, of course, be cut out like scones with a humble jam jar or espresso cup, but that would be missing the point. I still get a childlike thrill from stamps of any sort, always struck by the pleasure that comes from creating replicas, especially if its utilising pre-industrial tricks of the trade. Non-mechanical reproduction, if you will. I discovered a woodworker named Franco Casoni still plies his corzetti-carving trade in pretty Chiavari (the town’s also known for their turned wood chairs), each stamp customised on the spot for around €30.

Franco will do you up anything your heart desires, though traditional patterns include trees, laurel wreaths, butterflies, Punic-looking swirls and crosses. In fact, the pasta’s name is said to come from the Ligurian dialect term for ‘little cross’, dating the pasta to the Crusades. Other accounts place their origin a few centuries later, with wealthy Renaissance families flashing their noble coat of arms in front of guests at the pasta course – an early example of furthering your brand.

I was as keen as any Genovese aristocrat to have my own stamp made up, but with the master carver off on an extended holiday, I bought the simple, happy, geometric one you see above. This one came from the tiny Alladin’s cave of cookware shops, Butteghetta Magica di Tinello Daniela (via della Maddalena 2, Genova; +39 010 2474225), who must do a fair trade in them – I was offered a recipe in English with my purchase. It reminds me of a shortbread mould, but it’s neatly hollow on its reverse with a sharply beveled edge to do the cutting.

My first corzetti were commendable, if still a little too fatto a mano for my liking. Washed down with a glass of the local Pigato, a pale and airy white that also helped moisten the dough, they made for a wonderful late summer lunch. My mother would have turned her nose up at it all, and requested instead a cheese sandwich and a cup of tea. But she would have been proud.

Alex Billington loves Sunday brunch at Cafe Charlot…and Happy Hour.

Cafe Charlot has to one of my favourite haunts for just hanging out and people watching, reading over endless cups of coffee or meeting friends, evenings that leisurely stretch from aperitif time to midnight. The atmosphere here is cosy but convivial; I often turn up here with my laptop (there’s also free wifi) to work for hours too and never feel rushed or pressured to leave though the place is so popular you sometimes have to wait for a much coveted table. And to make it even more popular there’s Happy Hour every night from 7-9pm. Decor is retro 20s Paris  bistro and the menu is traditional brasserie fare: salads, burgers, cheese plates etc…. Sunday brunch is a big affair here too… set menu is around 17 euros…..and we indulged in everything from scrambled eggs and smoked salmon and fresh coffee to champagne since this is gastronomic Paris!

38, rue de Bretagne 75003 Paris
01 44 54 03 30

8 Metro Filles du Calvaire

Every day from 7am to 2am.

Tickets restaurants, Eurocard – Mastercard, Visa, Carte Bleue

À la carte: 10-26 €

Photos: cc. Flickr.com/Meg Zimbeck

Faith Bleasdale discovers The Broomhill Hotel. Surrounded by nearly 300 sculptures in ten acres of gardens with a slow food restaurant.

When I moved back to North Devon, people suggested I should visit Broomhill to convince me of the area’s sophistication. Broomhill is a hotel with sculpture gardens and a lovely restaurant, so I booked lunch there unsure what to expect and was surprised by what I found.

Nestled in woodland, the hotel is surrounded by a stream. On arrival, the variety of sculptures dotted around the grounds is striking. (Actually, probably not “dotted” but carefully curated.) In fact, the ten-acre gardens – which attract an entry fee (£4.50 for adults) – house about 300 sculptures. Wear sensible shoes in order to enjoy the winding paths through the woodland.

After your walk, head indoors to sample the food. They advertise “slow food” as their ethos. I think their mission is also to respect local suppliers and serve authentic produce. The food is mainly Mediterranean; a full lunch or bar snacks. I recommend the tapas to share, either meat or vegetarian. In fact, their vegetarian menu is one of the best I have seen. The food is delicious, fresh and the menu offers a reasonable variety, which should suit everyone. A pre-booked three course lunch is £13.95, which includes a ticket to the sculpture gardens, and bar meals start at £4.25. They also have an art gallery inside which you can browse after lunch. Most things are for sale if you are in the mood for shopping.

The hotel itself is small, with just six bedrooms, but it also a great place for a function, a party, wedding, or conference, and they have facilities for all of these. You can pop in for a drink, or a Devon cream tea, and the late Victorian house which overlooks the gardens is a lovely setting.

Broomhill is a wonderful idea and it works because the food is so good, the art is interesting, and the sculptures on the whole impressive, (although some are a bit baffling), and the setting is gorgeous. The marriage of food and art is, in this case, a happy one.

Visit the website: http://www.broomhillart.co.uk

When you have only one morning to go shopping in Paris, best not to find yourself at a 2am lock-in at your favourite Parisian friend’s local – in this case, Mon Chein Stupide (1, rue Boyer 75020, 01 46 36 25 49) – the night before. And best not precede that with a visit to his beloved neighbourhood restaurant, the comfortingly unpretentious, seriously produce-driven, and Michelin-starred Bistrot des Soupirs (49, rue de la Chine 75020, 01 44 62 93 31). There will be conversations about birth, death, love, war and Gil Scott Heron; your glass will never be empty, life will be impossibly sweet. Then you’ll wake up.

My Mamashelter bed was large and very forgiving, and with the sound of teeming rain and a great stonking hangover urging me to stay put, I wrote the morning, and my shopping lift, off. After ‘lunch’ at the Rose Bakery (46, rue des Martyrs 75009, 01 42 82 12 80) – nothing like a crumble and a jug of custard to help a sore head – I had my legs sugared at Cinq Monde – much more relaxing than a wax, as a calf massage is part of the process.

Then to the wonderful Institut Du Monde Arabe, in a valiant attempt to plough through at least a few hours of research before I headed across Ille St Louis to the right bank, the metro and pre-dinner nap back in the 20eme. But on the way ‘home’, as fate would have it, I missed the turnoff to the Pont Marie metro station and before I knew it, found myself outside cult sandal shop, K.Jacques (16, rue Pavée, 01 40 27 03 57). Then there was no turning back, the Marais sucked me in: Bensimon (12, rue des Francs Bourgeois, 01 42 77 16 18), Comptoir de Cotonniers (33, rue des Francs Bourgeois,01 42 76 95 33), Vanessa Bruno (100, rue Vielle du Temple, 01 42 77 19 41), Claudie Pierlot (Blancs Manteaux 9, rue des Blancs Manteaux, 01 44 78 03 33) and L’Arstisan Perfumer (‎32, rue du Bourg Tibourg, 01 48 04 55 66‎), all within a Chablis-addled amble. The 10eme’s APC and the Anne Valerie Hash aside, here was my shopping list writ large.

The fates seemed to want me to shop and I was in browsing heaven, but I was in no state for change rooms. Despite a final detour, a long, lustful wander and a cup of tea at the beautiful and oh-so right-on Merci (111 blvd Beaumarchais 75003, 01 42 77 00 33), by the time I found another metro station, I carried but two modestly sized shopping bags. One from Petit Bateau, with the obligatory dozen knickers for my daughters, the other from American Vintage (10 rue des Francs-Bourgeois 01 42 77 98 73 ), a label I first spied in Marseille in 2006, and whose endless riffs on the t-shirt theme have now fortunately found their way into the wider world.

The American Vintage bag contained the twin scarves – long, meltingly soft twists of cotton – pictured above. Why two? In grey and, well, grey? There are, as the cliché goes, many shades of grey; in the parlance of conte crayons, I chose one that was cool, another that was warm. (Or perhaps, recalling the urban bestiary of Paris, there’s a pigeon and  a mouse.) They’ve both since kept my chill-prone neck warm during many a flight and through the ever-shifting equinox weather of Melbourne, New York and Oslo. One or the other will go with everything I own, and I’m never quite as anxious about potential loss as I’ve got back up. And while there’s a host of similar pieces to be had, these carry both the insouciance and a particular attention to detail of their Provençal makers.

Teamed with a cream APC tunic, the warm one  kept my décolleté modest on my early morning flight south to Tunis, while the cool one got its first outing later that very evening. On the way to find a medicinal onion soup, my friend and I made an unscheduled stop on a windswept corner. A (largely female) crowd had gathered to watch a couple of strapping young pompiers liberate a wayward terrace umbrella that had been blown into the top branches of a very tall tree. Neck wrapped tight in my new scarf (and looped into messy pussycat bow, because it was, well, Paris), I was able to stave off the unseasonable cold while this slight but charming episode came to its happy conclusion. And what a cinematic one it was, the day’s inky clouds suddenly receding as the umbrella was retrieved, the firemen’s muscles flexing beneath sodden t-shirts, gold helmets glinting in the last rays of the setting sun.

Wedged between Sydney’s famous Oxford Street and Flinders Street, the eastern end of South Dowling Street could easily be mistaken for a quiet residential strip of inner-city living. But as Kris McIntyre discovers, this unassuming stretch of Darlinghurst is also home to some cute and quirky businesses selling everything from the tasty to the sexy.

SHOP
Madame Rouge’s Boutique for Love (No.327) is a decadent little cavern of sauciness for gals. Selling sexy lingerie, potions and lotions, female erotica and naughty sex toys, Madame Rouge’s boudoir makes shopping for the forbidden an indulgent journey to the secret world of feminine desire. Madame Rouge also runs burlesque dance classes at the Velvet Lounge in the nearby Beauchamp Hotel.

Paper Couture (No.284) is filled with charming handmade stationery and decorative paper-based objects. Special Pieces (No.366) sells antique Japanese and Chinese furniture and kimonos as well as Tibetan, Mongolian and Indian artefacts and well, as the name suggests ‘special pieces’. My Boudoir (No. 323) specialises in vintage clothes, shoes, bags, antiques, costume jewellery and some art. For hip fashion Mixed Designer Collective (No.319) sells Hussy, Cohen et Sabine, Nookie and Oscar the Third; and Capital-L (No.333) stacks its racks with labels including Something Else, Marnie Skillings, Romance Was Born, Notion of Legacy, Missy Jackson shoes, streetwear favourite Mad Cortes, Claud Maus, Gorman, Jessie Hill, Gabrielle Scarvelli and in-house label Please Louise.

PAMPER
Sharon-Lee Studios is the home of Sydney’s eyebrow queen. The ‘Brow Wow!’ eyebrow shaping treatment will set you back $90-$150 but your brows will never look so good (apparently, I just didn’t have that kind of dosh to splurge). Other services include eyelash extensions, tinting, manicures and pedicures. Open Tues-Sat. Phone (02) 9360 5124 for bookings.

CULTURE
Charles Hewitt Gallery (No. 355) specialising in contemporary Australian art with regular exhibitions by significant emerging and mid-career artists. Open Mon-Sat between 10am-6pm.

EAT
On the corner of South Dowling and Hannam Street, there are two great spots for a quick, tasty bite to eat. Look out for the sandwich sign hanging off the door and you are at South Dowling Sandwiches offering great sambos and tasty salads in a box. Across the road, new kids on the block at Youeni serve up snacks and lunches with fresh-roasted organic coffee. Just off South Dowling Street on the corner of Albion Ave and Selwyn Street, The Shop is a kooky hang for local creative types sipping on good coffee and tasty morsels delivered with amusingly ambivalent service.

DRINK
“There is more to life than beer alone, but beer makes those things even better” – the famous quote from intrepid beer love and biographer, Stephen Morris emblazoned on the awning of The Local Taphouse says it all. With more than 150 beers on offer, this popular pub on the corner of South Dowling and Flinders Streets serves up Australia’s largest range of beer with a blend of rustic elegance and trendy modernity. Filled with antique furniture, comfy couches and quirky curios like birdcages hanging from the ceiling, this is also a place where a Sauv. Blanc swilling lass can feel at home. The pub-grub is mod-Oz and a good companion to the specialty of the house. On the corner of Oxford Street, the Beauchamp Hotel is a well-loved part of Sydney’s pub heritage. Downstairs is an old-school-but-cool public bar whilst upstairs there’s a modern, loungey in the bistro and courtyard. The seductive basement bar, Velvet Bar, is open on Friday & Saturday nights unless privately booked by Madame Rouge or private parties.

GETTING THERE
Catch the 380 or 333 bus from Circular Quay or Elizabeth Street in the CBD and jump off near Taylor’s Square / St Vincent’s Hospital. South Dowling Street is a short walk towards Bondi from Taylor’s Square.

When Kris McIntyre was offered the chance to spend less than 24 hours in Warsaw she jumped at the chance to visit Poland’s capital and discovered some tips along the way on how to explore a city on a time budget.

11.30am We touch down in Warsaw and are met by our driver for the short trip into the city centre. My first impressions of Warsaw are that of a sprawling post-Soviet concrete city. It’s the tail end of winter and the bleak grey sky only serves to highlight the obvious scars on the city’s soul. Warsaw has been devastated by war and invasion over and over again – most notably during the Second World War when more than 85 per cent of the city was destroyed. The result is a hotch-potch of architecture and from conversation with locals, a sense that everything is being ‘renewed, restored or rebuilt’.

Our hotel, the Sofitel Victoria 9 (Ul. Krolewska 11. Tel 022 657 8011 www.orbis.pl) has something very ‘trapped in time’ about it and I laugh at how a Sofitel in one city can be like a Best Western in another. What the Sofitel does have going for is it is its vantage point over Saski Park and the site where an 18^th Century Palace once stood before the Soviets flattened it. From the hotel window I feel like I am witnessing a strange kind of somnambulism on the ground below. The light and the noise are muted which makes the pedestrians seem like they are moving slowly and silently through an invisible denseness. It is surreal but beautiful and immediately puts me in the right frame of mind to appreciate the artistic melancholy of this city.

1.00pm With my travelling companion busy in meetings, I decide the best way to for me to get a feel for the place is to do what I would normally do on an ordinary day – go for a walk, find a good coffee, browse through a book shop and do a yoga class. I’ve armed myself with the Wallpaper* City Guide to Warsaw and a copy of the local English-language street press Warsaw Insider magazine. I head off in the direction of the cobbled streets of Stare Miastro/ Nowe Miastro (Old Town/ New Town) and the grounds of Warsaw University into the recently revitalised, now-hip Powisle district. I manage to tick off a couple of the city’s landmarks and architectural highlights along the way – the Metropolitan, the Warsaw University Library and the Swietokrzyski Bridge. I find delight in the ordinary by spotting the likenesses and differences in the everyday things – the children playing in the school yard, what the buses look like, how the same products have different brand names. I realise how travel and being in strange places sharpens the senses, especially if you are on your own. And intense people watching can give an uncanny feel for people and place in a short space of time.

2:00pm At the Kafka café bookshop (Ulica Obozna 3. Tel: 22 826 0822. www.kafka.com.pl) I order a not-terribly-good coffee and a tasty Polish sandwich as I soak up the University-student vibe. The place is filled with sofas, books (new and second hand), laptops, skinny cigarettes (smoking is still kosher here) and muted conversation about student politics, literature and overdue assignments.

3.30pm I hook up with my partner and take him on my own tour of the city sights. We stop in at Czuly Barbarzynca (Ulica Dobra 31. Tel: 22 826 3294. www.czulybarbarzynca.pl). Over coffee and too-sweet cakes we discuss how bleak and even depressing places are almost a necessary counter-balance to the artistic soul if you ordinarily live in a sunny, easy-going lifestyle devoid of the layers of history and suffering felt here.

4.30pm Whilst the other half takes a nap I squeeze in a class at Joga Klub (Ul.Chalubinskiego 8. Tel: 830 09 90. www.jogaklub.pl). The studio offers morning, lunch, afternoon and evening classes daily with Pilates and a variety of different yoga styles. There’s also English-speaking teachers. At the end of the class I feel like I’ve landed and am ready for the night of Polish culture ahead.

6.30pm Our driver is back to take us to Warsaw Central Station for a bizarre ‘spectackle’ (performance piece) in the public space of the train station. It was in Polish so I didn’t understand a word but loved the strangeness of the experience. We leave the station for our next date and as we drive through the streets of Warsaw I find it tricky to describe. There’s no one word (at least not one that I can find in the space of 18 hours) and the feel of the place keeps moving out of my grasp. At one moment you feel its Soviet Socialism, the grandeur of its Eastern European history, then around the next corner is glass-walled modernity. Channel and capitalism are on show, but there’s an intangible complexity about it. The city feels vulnerable and sad but also strong and hopeful as though it has something to look forward to.

8.00pm We’re at TR Warsawa (Ul Marszafkowska 8. Tel: 022 480 80 90. www.trwarszawa.pl) – the artistic home of one of Poland’s most talented young theatre directors, Grzegorz Jarzyna. As testimony to the importance of the arts in the Polish psyche, Warsaw has more than 27 government-funded theatres. As we wait for the curtain to lift we ponder how artistic expression strives to find meaning and beauty in the barren bleakness of the external world.

9.30pm Our local contact and his girlfriend take us to Warsaw’s most applauded restaurant U Kucharzy (Ulica Ossolinskich 7. Tel: 22 213 3393. www.gesler.pl). Literally meaning ‘cooks kitchen’, this amazing tiled dining room is located in what was once the kitchen of the grand Europejski Hotel. We’re greeted to a slick welcome by the crazy Rasputin-like maitre d’ who escorts us to our table and introduces us to our humble manservant waiter. Decked out in black jacket, white shirt and a too-short black tie, he brings a hint of the old hotel’s formality (check out the fabulous black and white photo of a row of waiters looking out the window of the old hotel as you enter the restaurant) which is a humorous contrast to the heavily tattooed, trolley-wielding, sweaty cooks that come to our table to put the finishing touches on our meals. Our host points out the famous amongst the glamorous and gorgeous patrons filling the space. Although the food is far too Polish for my liking, U Kucharzy is an amazing dining experience for its ambience alone.

12.00am Short of falling into our last vodka with exhaustion we bid our lovely hosts good night and brave the cold for a midnight stroll past nightclub queues and across Saski Park. In bed I’m wondering if the aftertaste of the herring sitting in a puddle of linseed oil with raw onion and coleslaw will ever leave me.

4.00am The thump-thump of nightclub baselines are still going as we drag ourselves out of bed and head to the airport. At the airport duty free I find the perfect Polish gift for – a bottle of genuine Zubrowka bison-grass vodka. Complete with a blade of grass in the bottle, the local drop has been touted as an aphrodisiac, stamina enhancer and virility booster. I’ll let my Taurean friend at home be the judge of that! As the plane takes off I reflect on a short, sweet, surreal adventure and hope I’ll return to this strange city one day.

TIPS & TRICKS FOR EXPLORING A CITY ON A TIME-BUDGET

• Pick up a city guide before you arrive. Wallpaper* City Guides and Lonely Planet’s Encounter series are a good bet.
• Have a plan for what you want to see and do BEFORE you arrive.
• Get a good map.
• Pick up a local insider’s guide or street press for hints on what to do, gigs, restaurants, theatre and other activities.
• Do what you enjoy doing in your own city – it’s a great way to get a feel for a new place.
• Hook up with a local. Use your contacts Lonely Planet Six Degrees-style to find a local guide before you arrive.
• Book a hire car to help your get around, or at least have an understanding of the local transport systems, to make the most of your time.

Running through the heart of Potts Point,

Eat at: During the day, head to Yellow Bistro (57-59) or Toby’s Estate (81 entry via Manning Street). For evening dining, Café Sopra at Fratelli Fresh (81), Busshari Japanese (119), and the amazing Fratelli Paradiso (16 Challis Avenue, off Macleay Street).

Drink at: Velluto Champagne & Wine Lounge (rear of 50 Macleay on the corner of Baroda Lane) and the bar at the rear of Lotus Bistro & Bar (22 Challis Avenue).

Shop at: For upmarket fashion Arida (61) and Becker & Minty Woman (Cnr Macleay Street & Greenknowe Ave). For homewares Becker & Minty (81 enter via Manning) or Macleay on Manning (85).

Indulge at: Alkaline Day Spa (91). Tip: book in for a treatment with River.

Read at: Potts Point Book Shop (14) or Macleay Street Bookstore (103)

Bloom at: Sydney’s most celebrated florist, Grandiflora (12).

Go to market at: Fitzroy Gardens Fountain markets are held every Saturday (for organic produce, flowers, pastries and food stalls) and Sunday (for second-hand books and clothing).

Getting there: Catch a bus or train to Kings Cross. Visit 131500.com.au for timetable information.(Note: numbers indicated are the street number on Macleay Street. Holiday Goddess suggests checking websites for opening hours and bookings).

Faith Bleasdale goes in search of the perfect Singapore Sling

cc. Flickr.com / Chang'r

There are two things stand out about Singapore – the shopping and the cocktails. Shopping is a national pasttime and for such a small place, the amount of malls is quite astounding. But I want to focus on the aprés shopping – the cocktail hour (or two).

Singapore is famous for its Singapore Sling, and when visiting there is only one place to go to sample this – The Long bar at Raffles hotel – Walking into the hotel is like stepping back into colonial times, and you might feel slightly underdressed even in an evening gown. The far more casual Long Bar itself is strangely pub-like, and as they give you free monkey nuts, the shells also decorate the floor (warning to anyone with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, it is rather messy)! The cocktail itself I found overly sweet but I think it would be churlish not to try it…

Highly recommended is the New Asia Bar at Swiss Hotel at The Stamford. Not for those with vertigo, it’s on the seventy-first floor, with amazing views of the city, and a pretty extensive cocktail list. Its decor is modern, and sleek, and they offer Sundowners (half price wine, champagne and cocktails) from 3pm until 9pm daily. Genius. However, it’s normally pretty busy and service can be slow. You have been warned.

My hands-down favourite place is the Martini Bar at Mezza 9, in Singapore’s Grand Hyatt. This glass-encased bar has the best martini list in the whole of Singapore (and to be honest anywhere else I’ve been). Fabulous bar, great central location, friendly service, it really is the perfect place for the perfect cocktail. My recommendation is the watermelon martini, which is mouth-wateringly good. As in many Singapore bars they often crank the air-conditioning up quite high, remember you can ask for a wrap and a pashmina will be provided.

Photo Attribution: http://www.flickr.com/photos/chang-er/ / CC BY-ND 2.0

Faith Bleasdale finds the beautiful English pub in Devon that inspired ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water.’

© Faith Bleasdale

When I head the rumour that one of my favourite songs was inspired by a pub near where my home in Devon I just had to investigate.

Simon and Garfunkel’s classic song ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ was apparently inspired by a visit to The Fisherman’s Cot in Bickleigh, Tiverton, Devon.

The Fisherman’s Cot is a beautiful traditional Inn set on the river Exe, and it offers traditional pub food, and also a a cosy place to stay.

© Faith Bleasdale

I went there for Sunday lunch, where the carvery was full to the hilt. The menu is varied, the prices very reasonable, and a lot of local produce is used – fresh fish features. The service is friendly and although some of the decor is a little dated it definitely passes for quaint!

What really sells this place is the setting. On a bright sunny day, you can sit outside, feed the ducks and watch the bridge – which is definitely built over troubled waters.

It’s definitely inspiring. As I watched the ducks chasing bread I definitely felt the desire to write, too.

For more information, visit the website.

A quiet haven away from the hectic hub of Sydney’s Circular Quay, Customs House is possibly one of the city’s best-kept secrets. Find broadband, books, current international newspapers and more. Kris McIntyre reports.

cc Creative Commons Flickr / zayzayem

Inside Customs House (a beautiful Heritage-listed building) you’ll find a unique perspective on the city and plenty of opportunity to be sociable or solitary. You can easily spend a whole day here … and the best part is, that unless you want it to indulge in some pretty fabulous food and wine, it won’t cost you a cent.

READING, RELAXING & LEARNING …
Ground Floor Foyer
With comfy chairs and sofas, newspapers from around the world, internet desks and wireless broadband access, Customs House Foyer is an open, friendly meeting place or the perfect spot to spend time on your own. The highlight is an awesome model of Sydney’s CBD embedded under a glass floor which gives a unique bird’s-eye view of the city (and yes, you can walk on it).

The Library
Spanning over three levels, the Customs House Library houses a collection of more than 50,000 items. On the ground floor you’ll find magazines, paperbacks, Australian and international newspapers (great if you are feeling homesick for your favourite tabloid). On Level 1, there’s children’s literature, A-K fiction, the Japanese, Korean and audio-visual collections. Level 2 houses non-fiction, reference books and L-Z fiction as well as the wonderfully quiet and serene Reading Room. There is wireless broadband access and computer terminals with free internet access but you’ll need to purchase a charge card if you want to access your email account. Library membership ($12 annually) is only available to NSW residents, but you are free to browse. Open 10am-7pm (Mon-Fri), 11am-4pm (Sat & Sun), closed on public holidays. Telephone: (02) 9242 8555. www.cityofsydney.nsw.gov.au/customshouse/thelibrary

Events
The Library hosts a continuous program of (mostly free) events including photographic, art and painting exhibitions. Customs House Square is also the site for special events. See the Customs House website for details.
The Mahasiddha Buddhist Centre also runs drop-in meditation classes in the Level 2 meeting room on Monday evenings. Cost was $14 when we visited. For information visit www.meditateinsydney.org

WINING & DINING …

Young Alfred Café
Located on the ground floor, Young Alfred offers casual Italian-inspired dining with homemade pizzas the hero on the menu. The best seats in the house are outside on the verandah overlooking Customs House Square where the Café has an espresso bar serving good coffee. Open 7am-midnight (Mon-Fri), 10am-midnight (Sat, Sun & public holidays). Telephone: (02) 9251 5192

Quay Bar
Also on the ground floor, Quay Bar is a greet spot to meet for a drink and a casual bite to eat. With the ambience of a French café and a bistro-style menu to match, the vibe is relaxed and funky, the service good and the cocktails get rave reviews. The forecourt bar is also the perfect outdoor venue to enjoy Sydney’s amazing summers. Open: 11.30am-midnight (Mon-Fri), 11.30am-2.00am (Sat, Sun & public holidays). Telephone: (02) 9247 4898.

Café Sydney
On the Level 5 rooftop, Café Sydney is one of the city’s most popular restaurants. Sydney shows herself off from here in a way that is akin to snaring the ‘best seats in the house’.  With mains averaging $35, Café Sydney is not a ‘cheap eat’ but worth every cent for the view alone. The excellent menu and wine list, sophisticated service and stylish décor are all a bonus. There’s also a private dining room, live music on Sundays (usually jazz or classical). Bookings are essential.  Café Sydney is open 12noon-late (Mon-Fri), 5pm-late (Sat) and from 12noon-4pm (Sun).  Café Sydney Lounge bar is open 5pm-midnight (Mon-Sat). Telephone: (02) 9251 8683 or visit www.cafesydney.com

To see a Holiday Goddess video guide to Customs House, please visit our podcasts section.

FAST FACTS:
Address: 31 Alfred Street, Circular Quay, NSW 2000
Telephone: (02) 9242 8595
Web www.cityofsydney.nsw.gov.au/customshouse
Opening hours: 8am-midnight (Mon-Fri), 10am-midnight (Sat), 11am-5pm (Sun & public holidays)

HOW TO GET THERE:
Customs House is situated at Circular Quay, one of the busiest transport hubs in Sydney. Visit www.131500.info or call 131 500 for public bus, train and ferry timetable information. If you’re flying interstate, and are looking for bargainista airfares, we recommend you log onto I Want That Flight, where you’ll find some amazingly low cost options for flying into Sydney. Visit http://www.iwantthatflight.com.au

Louise Hawson shows how to enjoy Hong Kong on next to nix.

If you’re cashed up, Hong Kong is a great place to visit. But should you find yourself in this shopper’s paradise with barely a brass razoo, here are some suggestions to ensure you still enjoy your stay:

Catch a tram from Central heading east all the way to Shau Kei Wan. Aside from it only costing HK$2, it’s a great way to get to know the locals – the tram ride takes more than an hour, plenty of time to strike up a conversation. And you end up far from the tourist traps in “real” Hong Kong.

Eat like the locals. Which doesn’t mean going the whole hog and eating great wads of the glazed red meat you see hanging around everywhere. Stick to noodles, fish balls and the standard rice dishes and you’ll save yourself a packet.

You don’t have to sleep or eat in the grand old hotels (Mandarin, Peninsula) to enjoy their genteel, luxurious atmosphere. Frock up, pack a good book and park yourself somewhere inconspicuous. If you can cough up the dough for a cup of tea, do so – nothing like a little fine china, elegant silverware and well-stuffed upholstery to make a girl feel special.

© Tamara Pitelen

Tamara Pitelen seeks out Barcelona’s bohemian drinking haunt of old.

 

 In one of the tiny alleyways of Barcelona’s famous gothic quarter is The 4 Cats taverna (Els Quatre Gats). Once the haunt of some of Spain’s most famous thinkers, musicians, artists and architects, patrons included Pablo Picasso and Antonio Gaudi.

In 1899, Picasso began hanging out here, aged17, and it was the site of his first exhibition. He produced the image that still features on the menu cover.

The Gats was opened in 1897 by Pere Romeu, who wanted to create a Bohemian hangout where artistic types would come to drink and put the world to rights. The venue today relies heavily on it famous former patrons to attract tourists seeking a connection with that bohemian spirit of years gone by.

That’s certainly what I was looking for when I turned up at 6pm on a Thursday evening, 110 years later. Unfortunately, the venue was almost empty, although – to be fair – no one ventures out for dinner before 9pm in Spain. Four hours later, I’d sure it would have been teeming; particularly with tourists.

Today, 4 Cats is a charming curiosity where, decoratively at least, time stopped circa 1900. The walls are full of black and white photos of the famous fin-de-siecle customers as well as original and reproduction artworks. While the restaurant and bar likes to claim “the best food and service in Barcelona”, I’ve experienced better. But for the opportunity to sit in this living museum and ponder what the walls would say if they could talk, it’s well worth the price of a “caffe con leche, por favour”.

For more information go to www.4gats.com

Jessica Adams reveals where the best cuppa can be found in Brighton.

Brighton © Brian Scantlebury / 123rf

The Mock Turtle, near the seafront in Brighton, is named after the character in Alice in Wonderland. Expect to time-travel back to the 1950s as you walk in and find fresh flowers, mixed pattern china on the dresser, huge cakes on stands, piles of scones, home-made jam for sale, low ceilings and even a hat-stand.

It’s usually crammed on both floors, so make sure you let the waitress know you’re there  before you sit down.  This is one of the very few places in England you can order anchovy toast; and the meringues are the size of a lady’s hand. Expect proper strong, dark tea too – made with tea leaves (not bags) in lovely old teapots that are refilled on request.

The Mock Turtle is a little hard to find, so print out a Google Map. However, if you’ve just been shopping at the (equally glorious) English shoe shop L.K.Bennett or popped into another British retro institution, Cath Kidston, you’ll find it’s a five-minute walk.

I have taken visitors from all over the world to The Mock Turtle and they always love it. If you’re a New Yorker and you drink at Tea and Sympathy (the faux British tea room) then you’ll dig The Turtle too.

The Mock Turtle. 4 Pool Valley, Brighton, East Sussex, England.
More information

Emma Killick guides a foodie’s tour of Toulouse.

Toulouse at Sunset © Guillaume Dubé

Many heading to the south of France bypass the cities, but if you’re arriving by plane or train or picking up a hire car, I definitely recommend at least a quick stop in Toulouse. This historic city is young and vibrant, in large part due to the University of Toulouse, one of the oldest universities in Europe. The centre is 15 easy minutes from the airport or five minutes by metro from the train station. Whenever we are picking up friends from the airport, we always squeeze in a trip to the market or a meal before heading out into the countryside.

Here’s what you can do if you’ve got a day set aside, or even just a couple of hours:

MORNING: The daily market at Place Victor Hugo is mind blowing – all the meat, fish, cheese and pastries you could ever want. All of it is sumptuously displayed (so much so that I was almost tempted to buy a fillet of horse meat …). All the fruit and vegetables are just outside the covered market and more is to be found on the nearby Boulevard de Strasbourg

Place Victor Hugo, Ground Floor
Tuesday to Sunday, 6am-1pm

LUNCH TIME: Head upstairs from the market (the entrance is on the outside, under the covered walkway) to the mezzanine where there’s a narrow row of half a dozen restaurants. They’re all very friendly and very good, and they expect you to walk down the row and peruse the menus. All of them are supplied by the market below and guarantee fresh, tasty fare. We love the Le Louchebem (French Pig-Latin for “butcher”).

Get there by 12:15 at the latest as there are no bookings taken and the place gets packed.

Place Victor Hugo, First Floor
Daily 11.45am-3pm. Closed on Mondays.

EVENING: Enjoy an aperitif on the Place du Capitole. The square is vast, with the enormous town hall and opera house on one side and beautiful rose-bricked buildings on the other. Great for people watching and admiring the effect the changing light has on all the beautiful buildings. Many cafes spill out from the covered archways opposite the Capitole. The service can be a little Parisian (i.e. aloof), but worth suffering through for the atmosphere.

Next, head to Place Saint-Georges for dinner. A ten-minute stroll from Place du Capitole, Place Saint-Georges is a small, leafy square accessed by several narrow, medieval streets. In summer all the restaurants in the square have tables set up outside. It makes for a great atmosphere, and gives you a good view of all the gorgeous buildings surrounding the square. Unlike small French towns, late dining is readily available. There are a variety of restaurants and cafes here – everything from crepes and pizza to extensive gourmet menus. I recommend the following:

Traditional with great service and an extensive wine list:

Restaurant Emile. 13 Place St. Georges
05 61 21 05 56
www.restaurant-emile.com

They are known for their cassoulet and fish stew. We had a fabulous starter of herring tartar that was tasty and beautifully presented. On the expensive side, but a worthwhile treat. Making a reservation is recommended.
Young vibe and reliable food and service:

Van Gogh Cafe 21 Place St. Georges
05 61 21 03 15

Their summertime terrace comes complete with sand underfoot, which is nice and cool and feels a little as if you are on a volleyball court (high heels not recommended). The atmosphere is warm and friendly, which is partly due to the beautiful building and furnishings and partly due to with the staff. We gobbled all our food and the servings are uncharacteristically large (you could share one cassoulet between two).