When you get to Washington DC, book Ricky Celdran (202 412-2900) as your cabdriver. He has a karoake machine in the car, and will sing Bobby Darin and Dean Martin songs (and Hello, Dolly to our daughters), and has a book of lyrics for you to join in. He also—a rare thing for Washington drivers, we have learned—knows where he’s going, and is utterly safe and reliable.
Also, everyone should see the Holocaust Museum
FAVORITE PLACES
Bulot are small, gray, faintly slimy sea snails that often cling humbly to the edge of giant shellfish platters in fancy Paris restaurants. Sweep away the lobster and oysters, and go for the bulot. They feed on crabs and shrimp, and are flavorful, rich, and delicious. We like Bar a Huitres on St. Germain, but they have a few locations. Also, some of the local markets boil the bulot (said to be famously and obnoxiously fragrant as they boil) with black pepper, which is even more amazingly delicious.
If you think you don’t, and never could, like steak tartare, order it at Brasserie Balzar. Put a dollop on a chunk of rye bread, and you will push away the frites.
The park at the Luxembourg Gardens is filled with splendid places for children to romp, and things for them to stomp on. They serve outstanding coffee and pastry, too.
My wife tells me that Paris is also filled with many outstanding cultural attractions. I’ll have to take her word for that.
Also, the wonderful Steven Barclay’s suggestions.
The most literary cab in the
world
Our friend Will Grozier is the best-read man we know, and the most engaging conversationalist. Email him before you land in London to have him meet you at the airport. By the time you arrive in town, you will be better-informed than if you had read all of London’s fat Sunday newspapers.
Anything put on at Sam Mendes’ Donmar Warehouse is worth seeing. When you have, go across the street to Belgo’s and have the best of both worlds—London theater and Belgian mussels and frites.
Veeraswamy is London’s oldest Indian restaurant (1926), and possibly the oldest continuing Indian restaurant in the world. Mahatma Gandhi and Charlie Chaplin had lunch here; Chaplin admired Gandhi, and the Mahatma wondered why he was having lunch with a man who made faces for a living. The menu changes constantly, rotating through all regions, and you’ll be glad India has so many regions.
Simon Parker Bowles keeps a teddy bear—Teddy Parker Bowles—at Green’s restaurant, a theater hangout on St. James. The teddy bear recommends the scotch salmon. So smooth you’ll pick up the lemon wedge with disdain and ask, “What the hell is this for?”
You should try to see a game at Boston’s Fenway Park. It’s no more charming than Wrigley Field, but the team is better, and the ownership has been a model of worthy community involvement. Have ballpark franks and beans (washed down by a Pinot Blanc from Alsace) at Hamersley’s Bistro, and don’t be alarmed to see the chef in a Red Sox cap. It’s Gordon Hamersley.
Our New York is mostly for kids. Danny Meyer’s Blue Smoke has jazz, blues, and barbeque, and lets children decorate cookies for themselves.
Rosa Mexicano (I know it should be Mexicana, but that’s how they spell it) across from Lincoln Center, will bring emergency rice and beans to you if you have children in tow. They also have a kid’s menu that is tempting to adults. Maybe any kids menu is, if accompanied by pomegranate margaritas.
The Museum of Natural History has a specially warmed and contained butterfly conservatory that is magical. Tip: rub a sweet gel discreetly through you hair, and the butterflies may light on your head. Children will think you have a special power.
Pigeons on Daley Plaza
