Florida

palmbeachflorida.jpgJust for fun, close your eyes. Picture Zsa Zsa dining at Bistro Garden or Liz at Chasen’s – bejeweled and pleasing to the eyes. Imagine charming George Hamilton tanned and natty in his double- breasted blazer table-hopping his way around the room. Now open your eyes. If the vision remains, then you must be in Palm Beach! And, guess what! You’ll still see charming George tanned and natty in his double-breasted blazer table-hopping his way around the room – along with Jimmy Buffet, Rod Stewart, Donald Trump, Vic Damone, Dina Merrill, Susan Lucci, the indomitable Dame Celia Lipton Ferris, Ann Coulter and Rush Limbaugh.

Surely, you understand the delight for a Left Coast Malibu Beach Bum time-warping on the "Right” Shore. For someone who actually remembers the bridal trail down Sunset Blvd and a laid back Rodeo Drive of local businesses, Palm Beach and Worth Avenue is the old Beverly Hills I most cherish.  Here in Palm Beach most of the upscale restaurants recall those old glamour days, and their menus cater to the pre-foodie crowd who like their food simple and well prepared.

Café L'Europe most exemplifies Beverly Hills posh dining from the eighties. The interiors, with décor reminiscent of the Belle Epoch – sparkle like champagne. Gaiety seems part of the menu with its varied list of Iranian, Russian, Italian and domestic caviar, Sliced Scottish Smoked Salmon, Escargot Bourguignonne, (any one who ever lived in the Colony knows an excellent snail when they see one!), and a ninety-eight page wine list.

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If ever there is a restaurant – cool and hot at the same time – that belongs somewhere wondrous like in LA, buccan is it. Unbelievable beyond adjectives and totally filled with great vibes, buccan is only a plane ticket away...in Palm Beach! OMG A hot spot in Palm Beach?

“buccan is so good I come here on my night off.” Quite a compliment, but also quite remarkable, as the compliment is coming from our friendly and comely buccan waitress! She might have added that this new, nearly unbearably delicious restaurant is also the first true hot spot in Palm Beach! One step across the threshold and anyone can feel the jovial spirit of laughter and merriment.

Started by Palm Beach bachelor, Piper Quinn and Chef Clay Conley, buccan brings not only a new hip-but-gracious aesthetic to Palm Beach; it brings a new way of dining.

The first sight upon entering buccan is the large, casually decorated living room-like lounge with its bar to one side. Its’ cordial ambience brings in customers early to capture a sofa or armchair.

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el_mirasol.jpgPalm Beach is different from other tidy resort cities that line the Florida Coast. While remarkably tidy, it is also both eccentric and pretty, and I do believe it has its own wacky, elegant soul.

If indeed there is an aesthetic soul fluttering in Palm Beach it is the work and influence of a Californian artist turned architect, Addison Cairns Mizner.  In 1918, Mizner moved to Florida just as resort hotels were fading in popularity and private ocean front mansions were becoming the rage. His hurricane resistant Mediterranean Revival designs set the standard in romantic opulence, making him the society architect of choice.  Snubbing the cookie cutter effects of modern architecture, Mizner brought a bit of mystery to his estates and private clubs creating a rambling "add-on" quality to his spaces.  Besides his famous structures, his work thrives in courtyards and narrow alleys off Worth Avenue where you can stroll, check out the small privately owned shops and "discover" your newest, secret rendezvous – Renato's.

Not that Renato's needs discovering! Renato's is old Palm Beach, the way the Bel Air Hotel is old LA: There is a charming, relaxed insider atmosphere with just the hint of indiscreet desire – the best spice for a really good dish. And, good dishes are only an order away, if you can catch your waiter's attention. Do not expect to see empty tables here.

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westpalmbeach.jpgOur friend, Shiny Sheet Society Editor, Shannon Donnelly, can masticate on purple prose as well as any one I know: we are naught but a chew toy impaled on the incisors of the Cosmic Hellhound of Wall Street (from a "society" editor, no less). She was catching our attention to suggest that bad times should equal better manners – and why not; we can never over-spend on Grace.  Course in this case Grace is the "slightly-hung-over" Doyenne of the Etiquette of Denial. From her delicious SOCIAL GRACE'S GUIDE TO GETTING THROUGH ALL THIS, comes Rule Number One which forbids the use of the word "new" unless it is followed by either the (interchangeable) "grandchild" or "shelter dog." And, forget any conversation that touches on "bling" or "leveraged buyout." That will be a challenge to most Palm Beachers, but not to us as we now "have permission" to cross Worth Lagoon at will and treat the whole experience as just one of life's many broadening experiences. Crossing Southern Bridge leads to West Palm Beach – an exotic land to be sure.
 
West Palm actually has (gasp) sexy, hot young people that mingle at sexy hot spots like Bradley's, Grease, or Rocco's Tacos & Tequila Bar. (I plan to write about Grease and Rocco's as soon as I take the time to Spa myself to youthful, sexy and hot – well, at least in Bill's eyes).
 
West Palm also has – like all of South Florida – great Cuban Restaurants!  But, when it comes to Cuban food I find myself heading down a yellow brick road. I have no sense of seasoning, how flavors combine or what to order.  I am clueless – a Cuban food ninny, but a smart ninny!  Bill and I are going to Havana, the best authentic Cuban restaurant in Palm Beach County with an aficionado – Grace herself – Shannon Donnelly, who loves this opened-24hrs-a-day storefront kitchen.

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ImageOutside, the roosters crow. I look at the time display on my cell phone within reach. 4:30. A.M. As hard as I try, I cannot fall back to sleep. The continuous crying sounds of the roosters are foreign to me and grate on my nerves.

Finally, I pull myself out of bed, throw on some workout clothes and softly pad down the stairs outside my room.

I sit in the dark, the only light coming from the screen of my laptop computer. As my fingers move quickly across the keys, the light of day appears, surprising me with its sudden takeover of the night.

The sound of cars in the street join the constant noise of roosters calling to one another. My nose picks up the familiar aroma of yeast dough wafting from the kitchen.

Early each morning, an employee of the Angelina Guesthouse, where I'm staying in Key West, Florida, opens the kitchen in the early morning hours of darkness, while most of the guests are still deep in their slumber. On this morning, Nodira, a beautiful woman originally from Uzbekictan, pulls two batches of plump unbaked cinnamon rolls from the refrigerator and slides them into the oven.

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