Michael Nassar

Edinburgh’s newest hotel is also its most stylish.  On the historic Royal Mile, Hotel Missoni combines iconic fashion with Italian warmth.  Boldly black and white, with dramatic flourishes of jewel-bright colors, every detail was designed by textile maestro Rosita Missoni herself.  Smack in the heart of the original medieval town, this concept shouldn’t work – but it does; giving credence to the fact that Auld Reekie is a city able to own its historic past without blinding itself to the present – or the future.

David Thompson has literally written the book on Thai  food in the UK, so I was excited to finally try nahm, his Michelin-starred restaurant – the only Michelin-starred Thai in Europe, by the way – at London’s posh Halkin Hotel in Belgravia.  As expected, it did not disappoint – especially as on the advice of the waiter I opted for the nahm arharn, a traditional Thai meal in which a selection dishes designed to whet the palate are served family-style.  It’s a luxury lunch to be sure but well worth it:  Thompson reveals the subtle complexity of Thai food.  I’d seriously rank it up there with French and Chinese as one of the great cuisines of the world.

An amuse bouche of vegetables, tamarind and palm sugar atop pineapple triangles and stuffed into mandarin segments.

Another amuse:  a chiffonade of vegetables, jalapeno peppers and coriander wrapped in spicy leaves and eaten like a wrap.

Geng Gwia Warn Plaa Grapong Tort:  a green curry of crispy sea bass with white turmeric and Thai basil.

Geng Gari Gai:  an aromatic curry of chicken and potatoes with cucumber relish.

Cucumber relish:  the perfect sweet and sour antidote to the fiery curry.

Yam Pak:  a salad of assorted vegetables dressed with tamarind, palm sugar and sesame seeds.

Pat Het Ton Grataim:  stir-fried girolles and king oyster mushroom with morning glory.

Korng Warn:  fresh fruit for dessert, including rambutan, papaya, and jackfruit.

Korng Warn:  young coconut pudding with sweet corn is served alongside ash pudding, an old fashioned Thai desert made from – you guessed it – ashes.

Or at least a Duke.  Squirreled away on a hidden close in St. James, Duke’s Hotel is about as far away as you can get from The Metropolitan on the great British hotel continuum.  Discrete, boutique, it’s been welcoming guests for over a hundred years.  There’s a whole other kind of comfort and reliability that comes from a century of buttoned up tradition.  Not that it’s stuffy in the least.  In fact, it strikes me as the perfect place for an elegant – and amorous – assignation.

I love a hotel where everything is monogrammed with my initials.  Especially when my room overlooks Hyde Park.  I think I can safely say The Metropolitan is my new favorite home away from home in London:  the clean design and tranquil atmosphere  are an antidote to the city – plus there’s the added bonus of everything you’d expect in a five star hotel without any of the unnecessary fuss and pomp.  Oh and there’s Nobu, too, natch.

Braised Ayrshire pig’s nose with parsley sauce and lemon.  Yes, you read that right – for breakfast.

The creators of Five Hotel – the Parisian design hotel with conceptual guestrooms based around the five senses – recently opened their newest numerically-inspired creation along the rue Berthollet in the Latin Quarter:  Seven Hotel.  (Don’t ask what happened to Six)

In atypical Parisian fashion, the hotel invites you on an out-of-the-ordinary space journey from the moment you enter the bubble-filled reception area. Three-dimensional images of bubbles float across huge television screens and drift off into the lounge and bar, where you can sip champagne and drink in the bubbly ambiance. (there’s nothing too literal or half-hearted about this concept)  On each successive level of the hotel, the future/sexy/Amsterdam whorehouse theme continues, transporting guests to an alternate reality with trippy one-of-a-kind decor from floor to ceiling, like illuminated Plexiglass furniture and perfume dispensers linked to TV channels to rooms bathed in starlit skies of blue fiber optic lighting.  A how-did-they-do-that highlight is the floating bed in the center of each room. Some rooms even include a levitating bathtub – now how did they do that?!?

Additionally, there are seven suites – get it? – each with a specific theme created by a different designer and aesthetically unrelated to the rest of the hotel.  Go figure. The Alice in Wonderland suite evokes an imaginary world featuring clocks and mirrors. The Marie-Antoinette suite imagines what the eccentric queen’s boudoir might look like today (hint:  leather), while the 007 suite puts you in the mind of the suave secret agent with a series of 007′s gadgets and an over-sized TV stocked with all the Bond films you could possibly want – and even some you don’t.  Other rooms have even more conceptual themes – the on/off suite and Once Upon A Time room are full of inventiveness and Proustian surprises.  But don’t let the suites fool you – the real wow factor comes in the spacey oversized singles.  I mean, c’mon, when was the last time you slept in a levitating bed?

Dangling off the Atlantic coast, South Beach (or SoBe) has been luring visitors to its white sands and magnificent blue waters since it first burst onto the social scene in the 1920s, with successive generations discovering it anew and claiming it as their own.

But don’t be deterred by the crop of buffed and bronzed hedonists that descended when Ricky Martin swayed his hips in praise of la vida loca: The new wave of pioneers are upon us, and they’re all about livin’ the healthy life, which is why Miami Beach is one of our favorite spa weekend getaways.

Read the full story HERE.

More than a century ago in 1882, Henry Villard, one of the nation’s most prominent financiers, commissioned McKim, Mead & White, the architectural firm spearheaded by Stanford White, to create a residence of singular style. The firm designed a mansion:  grand in scale, it appeared from the outside to be a cluster of brownstone townhouses in the neo-Italian Renaissance tradition, when in fact the interiors contained separate sections for several families.  Conceived after the Palazzo della Cancellaria in Rome, the stately structure on Madison Avenue between 50th and 51st Streets, is the only townhouse complex built for the railroad barons of the last century to have survived into the present day.   The Villard Houses are an historic city landmark as well as the grand entryway into The New York Palace, the hotel I’ve posted about over the past two days. Yet for many years it was all a well kept secret, closed to the public.

In the mid-Seventies, however, the Archdiocese of New York, who owned the land, cleared the way for a hotel to be de­veloped and enabled the famous residence to be accessible once again. To bridge the architectural gap between the landmarked buildings and the new ho­tel that would  join it, Emery Roth & Sons designed a monolithic tower of dark bronze, reflective glass and anodized aluminum that recedes from, rather than overpowers, the rosy-hued Villard Houses and integrates with its environment as it mirrors the surrounding cityscape.

By 1980, when the hotel opened as The Helmsley Palace, the stunningly restored interiors stood as a living tribute to the Gilded Age.  Recognized by architectural historians as one of the most beautiful rooms to be preserved from the period, the Stanford White-designed Madison Room is notable for its light green marble walls, pillars and huge fireplaces at both ends of the room, and the romantic murals by P.V. Galland. The dramatic, two-story Renaissance-style Gold Room is almost entirely done up in gold, with gilt ceilings, walls and wainscoting – it’s also the bar for the  hotel’s Michelin-starred restaurant:  Gilt, natch. Wall panels are richly adorned with images of musical instruments and garlands of foliage in low relief.  High above the north and south arches are two John La Farge lunette paintings, entitled “Art” and “Music,” that serve as dramatic focal points in the elaborate space.

The elegant, old-world ambiance of The Drawing Room is reflected in carved-walnut, coffered ceilings and walls, accented with gold ormolu.  Nineteenth-century oil portraits hang on the walls and Italian marble fireplaces flank both sides of the entrance.  The original gilt chandeliers still add a sparkling accent to the room’s decor.

McKim, Mead & White created the cozy Library from two smaller rooms during extensive remodeling in 1910-11.  The focal point of the book-lined, carved paneled room is a barrel-vaulted ceiling decorated with rosettes and shields bearing the colophons of famous publishers of the day.

The courtyard, the original Madison Avenue carriage entrance of the Villard Mansion, was redesigned during the restoration to incorporate motifs from the flooring of several 15th-century Italian cathedrals.  The Renaissance designs were carried out in pink, rose and black marble set into green and rose granite. Today, pedestrians enter the courtyard through an imposing set of iron gates and find one of the more civilized spaces in midtown to enjoy an al freco drink.

Beyond the graceful arches of the cloister facade is a two-story marble lobby, which visually unites the Villard Mansion with the hotel’s tower in a manner so harmonious that it is impossible to detect the point of fusion.  And how appropriate that the focal point of the upper lobby is a magnificently restored red Verona marble fireplace that was designed by Augustus Saint-Gaudens.  One of his best-known works, it’s adorned with the carved figures of Joy, Hospitality and hold your breath: Moderation.

Waking up at The Palace the next morning I was greeted with this view of the Chrysler building from my bed – which made it that much harder to get out of bed and start the day.

As part of a larger story and long-term book project I am working on, I have from time to time over the past few months been  privileged to stay in some of New York City’s more interesting hotel rooms.  Recently I spent the night at the former Helmsley flagship, The New York Palace, in one of their four signature penthouse Triplex Suites.  It’s now a part of the fashionable Dorchester Collection of hotels and let me tell you this:  it doesn’t suck.

With a vertical design reflecting the nautical essence and stylized architecture of 1920′s  and 30′s Art Deco glamor – think SS Normandie – these suites spread out across 5,000 square-feet and three levels, sporting panoramic views of the Manhattan skyline from every angle.  Beyond the marble foyer is an expansive double-height living room with floor to ceiling windows and plush Deco furnishings and design accents.  Adjacent is a formal dining room and fully equipped-kitchen – just in case your entourage includes staff.

Up the circular staircase – or hop in the private in-suite elevator, natch – the second floor holds the Master Suite and guest bedroom.   For scale purposes I asked the bellboy and a pair of housekeepers to disrobe and curl up in the king-sized bed.  Adjoining the sleeping quarters, a sizable living area features a walk-in closet that’s larger than many a New York apartment.  And then there’s the guest bedroom across the hall: equally impressive with a pink marble bathroom and large portholes overlooking the downstairs living room   In fact,  I ended up sleeping in the guestroom because the view was too good to pass up – but more on that later.

The third – and final – floor is accessible exclusively via the in-suite elevator and boasts a true rarity: 1,500 square-feet of private rooftop terrace and no escape from the views:  to the south are the Chrysler and Empire State Buildings, to the east is the Seagram Building, Queensboro Bridge, and East River.  It’s the kind of space that makes you want to shout something embarrassing about being on top of the world.  Because after all, you are.

Spectacular and addictive in its own right is the view once the sun finally sets and the lights of New York City come alive.  It’s priceless.  Well, not really; the rack rate for this private palace in the sky is a cool $20,000 per night.