Although not exactly a LuxePacker hotspot, I recently visited Jackson, Tennessee. My Mama is serving her last year as President of the local Links chapter (a reputable civic organization comprising equally reputable women of African-American descent). And as such, I planned a surprise weekend trip to attend a charitable event produced under her supervision.

The day following the success of Mama’s event, our family decided to celebrate at a local brunch spot. I was disappointed that Jackson, despite significant growth, sported only one brunch option, but I was game. However, after a visit to the buffet, I learned there wasn’t much to play with. I had prepared myself to devour an insane number of calories only to find that the food wasn’t worth it. I was crushed.

Without much enthusiasm, I decided to entertain the dessert bar. Only three desserts were offered. All three had me in tears. Of joy. A peanut butter haven disguised as a Mississippi Mud Cake; some sort of (damn successful) cross between a Génoise Cake and a Molten Chocolate Cake; and finally, a supernal Coconut Cream Cake. I couldn't have withstood the onslaught of a fourth dessert, but I would have put forth every effort I possessed had it been offered. Each time I thought the next dessert couldn’t possibly surpass my current mouthful, I was proven wrong.

Arguably, and this is an argument worth having over and over, the Coconut Cream Cake was the best. Consisting of a virginal pound cake (as can only be managed by the Deep South), imbued with a pure coconut cream custard and crowned with a lush (yes, lush) buttercream vanilla and coconut frosting, this dessert featured three different textures with vanilla as its only common theme. The end result was a deeply religious experience.

If you’d like to win the argument that the South fashions desserts like no other American region, order the sweets at Ezra Grill in the Double Tree Hotel. After the first bite, folks won’t even put up a fight.

Desserts (only) highly recommended.

I don’t care what folks say about Salt Lake City. I like this town. Case in point. Bambara Restaurant.

Food. The main entrees were a surprising and ultimately symphonic composition!

Ambience. Blithely chic.

Service. Excellent. Well versed on the menu, and despite an absent sommelier, the waitstaff made competent suggestions re wine pairings.

Dress. Blithely chic.

Price. Price corresponds to quality of cuisine. A bit expensive, but justifiably so.

Favorite Dishes.

Bleu Cheese House Cut Potato Chips - hand sliced potatoes, fresh poignant bleu cheese and a bit of cabernet. Casual decadence!

Pan Seared Scallops, Parsnip Purée, Caviar Beurre Blanc, Port Wine Syrup, Shaved Fennel Slaw - the scallops were seasoned and seared perfectly. For the first time in my life, food actually melted in my mouth. But as good as the scallops were, I couldn't focus on 'em. Parsnip Purée (potato based) ingeniously infused with caviar? Brilliant. And a textural delight!

Grilled Filet Mignon, Maytag Blue Cheese & Applewood Smoked Bacon Au Gratin Potatoes, Roasted Shallot-Cabernet Wine Sauce. Lovely and perfectly cooked to order (medium rare).

Dessert Sampler - at this point I was dying. I’m full after the chips. But the food's so damn good, I can’t stop. And besides, the dessert sampler is a bargain! $15 (the price of one dessert is $8) for 6 desserts. And all but the creme brulée were regular sized offerings. I’m not a huge brulée fan, but I liked the creative infusion of coconut and strawberries (sacrilege to some). Bamabara's flourless chocolate cake drizzled with raspberries is among the best I've had and I greatly enjoyed the sorbets.

The reason I work out seven times per week is to relish Bambara grade dining experiences.

I really wanted to like the Driskill Hotel in Austin. I really did.

Historic hotels, having been faithfully restored, hold a special place in my wallet. And as such, I chose the Driskill Hotel over the Four Seasons for the prospect of good old fashion grace and charm.

I made the wrong choice.

Here’s what the Driskill Hotel had in the pocket :

1. Location. Step outside its doors, and your in the midst of the Austin’s Entertainment District.

2. Ghost stories. And plenty of ‘em. Being a historic rehab does have it’s advantages.

3. Impressive and careful renovation of the exterior. My initial impression? The Driskill Hotel is a stunner.

What the Driskill Hotel didn’t have anywhere near the pocket :

1. I understand that historically, bathrooms were quite small. But surely the extra towels can be stacked on something other than the toilet.

2. Driskill Hotel should invest in this new gadget I found at HITEC (Hospitality Industry Technology Exposition & Conference). Trays littered the hallways en masse and seemingly defied housekeeping for a majority of the daylight hours.

3. Customer disservice. I decided to spring a bit extra for the historic guest room located in the original building and specifically requested a King-size bed. Upon arrival, I was escorted to a room that featured what looked suspiciously like a full-size bed, but was touted as the world’s smallest Queen-size bed. Yet, despite the smaller footprint of the bed, I had to strategize my path to the bathroom due to the “beyond cozy” quarters. The room was downright cramped.

I called down to the front desk and asked whether my request for a King-size bed could and would be satisfied. After a conversation that involved too many excuses and justifications, I was escorted two doors down, to a room that was refreshingly spacious with a King size bed. The size of the room (although not the worn decor) justified the price point, but I couldn’t help but ask myself, “Why wasn’t I assigned this room in the first place?”

I did talk to the Front Desk Manager and Rooms Division Manager to ask just this question (I do like to give folks a chance to redeem themselves). They both were emphatic that pricing of the room was not based on size or bedding, but rather upon its location in the original building. Which leads me to my tip:

Don’t settle for the first room you’re assigned. Check out two or more options. And in fact, if your relegated to room 442, balk. (Room 447 was just fine.)

I will admit, readily, that I’m spoiled by the Four Seasons’ extraordinary customer service. Fine. But from the bellhops to the managers (the exception being the fine services provided by the concierge, Micheil), folks were disinterested or negligent. Given the Driskill’s four star rating, I find this unacceptable.

All in all, I wouldn’t recommend the Driskill Hotel. But it is worth a visit for a ghost story or two.

In the midst of all this Texas heat, I decided to throw in a review about my favorite spot on the planet...Harlem. Specifically, the Legendary Lenox Lounge.

The Scene. Lenox Lounge is music. Jazz that's for real. And eclectic. Swing, Bepop, Free, Hard Bop - Lenox Lounge showcases it all.

Ambience. Harlem art deco at it's best. Cool, classy and swingin'.

Service. A bit frantic on Friday and Saturday nights. Otherwise, warm and breezy.

Price. On the weekends, it can get costly. $20 cover, 1 drink minimum. For those on the budget, check out the jam on Sunday nights. Cover is reduced to $10.

Locals. If you want to chat up a local, avoid the weekends which tends to attract the trendy downtown crowd. You can expect folks to be warm and inviting, provided you have something of substance to contribute to the conversation. Be prepared to talk politics and the ways of women.

What makes this place special? 1. The owners, Alvin and Alvin, Jr. They've kept this spot sincere. 2. The history. Billie Holiday, Miles Davis, John Coltrane, Malcolm X. 3. The experience. Profiling in the Zebra Room and listening to the song of Harlem. It doesn't get anymore lush than this.

Tips.
Dress Code: Casual. Except Friday and Saturday nights - upgrade to dressy casual/casual chic.
Address: Corner of Lenox (Sixth) Avenue & 125th Street
Directions: Take the 2 or 3 train to 125th. Lenox Lounge is on the corner.

I'll admit. I'm more Luxe than Packer. But I do enjoy the outdoors. Today, Colorado's weather (and visiting relatives) demanded I take a moment for myself. Here's me, in Rocky Mountain National Park, next to Adam’s Falls, enjoying life. Highly recommended. It doesn't get any better than this.

I've got to make "this" happen more often.