Southern California

You'll never find this place on your own; you have to know someone. The Thin Man and I are just that lucky. Michele lives close by and does a fast focus so we can shoot and eat while everything's still hot. DaoFu is in Normal Heights and the fusion menu shares Thai, China, India, Vietnam and Japan. Michele says, "There's nothing normal about Normal." I don't see anything weird other than a guy on the street with his dog, who's still in the same spot when we emerge later. The dog is clearly unhappy.

To check it out, you have to be a detective. That's because in December they were told to stop using the name Tao and so they became DaoFu. Back story: Vegas dudes took issue with the name, according to our server. Why is Tao Asian nightclub in the Venetian Hotel agonizing over a place 326 miles away? Vegas Tao seats 3,000; Tweets to 75,000; lists 139,000 Facebook friends, hosts an annoying website and features scantily clad women. DaoFu, nee Tao, has no website, no Twitter presence, it closes at 9, and seats 50 fully dressed crunchies in a storefront. Same thing.

DaoFu is a place you want in your neighborhood, but not if you live in Nevada. It's chic with flowers, dessert, beer, wine and smart servers. It's also funky and the funk part is writing on the walls. Every inch is covered in graffiti. The owner says to himself, what else? "Okay, hungry people, go draw on the walls." The dominant theme is animal motifs. Of course.

Here's what I like about California: People think nothing of driving 82 miles for lunch. (In New York, this never happens.) The Thin Man and I are now two of those people as we head out from La Jolla to Plums Cafe in Costa Mesa. We've brought the Boston mechanical lady along to tell us where to get off. She acclimates, more or less, and in no time it's north on the 5. Our LA cousins, who are meeting us, drive 56 miles and they've lived here long enough to get over their New Yorkiness. I guess we have too.

Just in case, The Thin Man prints directions. As it turns out, she not only does not get lost but she sees into the future. Five miles ahead, on the way home, she tells us repeatedly to get off because there's trouble ahead. We don't, there is, but it works out.

How do you define an ideal California lunch? Although I'm no slouch in the lunch department, a perfect lunch will be one I didn't have to make. Ideal is every plate beautifully arranged. Ideal is having to choose. Will it be soup and salad, waffles, chopped or Caesar, greens? Ideal comes with a brother and cousins. Ideal is a chic vibe. Home? If only.

While we find ourselves in Santa Barbara wine country, also known as the Santa Ynez Valley, about every other month or so, I can honestly say I had never been to the actual town of Santa Ynez until last month. I use the word “town” quite loosely to describe this 6-block, blink-and-you’ll-miss-it, gathering of small office buildings, shops and homes. I’ve seen it on the regional tasting map for years, but until S.Y. Kitchen moved in, there was no reason to ever go there…at least not for a tourist.

Despite its proliferation of wineries in the last  decade, the restaurant scene in the Valley just has not kept up the same pace of growth. Your high-end / non-chain options are few and far between (literally), so when we heard of this place - owned and operated by the team behind Toscana in Brentwood - we figured we would give its “modern, rustic” Italian food a try. The chefs - brothers Luca and Francesco Crestanelli - are direct from Verona, bringing their expertise to fruition in this tiny corner of wine country.

I'm an obsessive travel planner. I leave nothing to chance when venturing far away from my home. I need a lay of the new land to feel safe and happy. I don't always do everything or go to every place I research, but the last thing I want is to be bored when I'm away from home sitting in a generic hotel room. Since I've also been, at least until the last year, a fairly picky-eater I like to know my dining options. I will only eat fast-food in an emergency, i.e. when there is absolutely no other choice. As a result, my pre-trip planning involves many sessions on the Internet, trying to find the best and cheapest restaurants that also have a decent wine list and cuisine that isn't too ethnic (the Man won't eat Indian, Thai or Chinese that doesn't come from a container). This is not an easy task.

Our most recent road trip to Sonoma county meant an endlessly boring drive up the I-5 from L.A. We could have flown, but we wanted to spend our money on wine and since we needed a car anyway, we bit the bullet and hit the highway. Once you cross the Grapevine, Central California is mostly flat desert with nothing to see except the occasional gigantic farm or mass-producing vineyard. I hate this stretch of road more than the road to Las Vegas and believe me that's saying something because I hate Las Vegas. (Only the I-10 to Phoenix is worse.)