Out of the whole year, September is my favorite month. Early spring. The Andes gleam with white snow. The first wild flowers dot the vineyards as the buds break on the vines. The almond and plum trees decorate the valley floor with white and pink blossoms.  The Chilean flag flaps in the September breeze with its proud star. Chile in September is a month long celebration of La Patria, the mother country, as her Independence Day nears on September 18. It’s a time of celebration, rebirth, abundance, sharing, and love for Chileans–and whoever chooses to join them.

Here are nine reasons to join us this September 8-14, 2012 to explore Chile.

Empanada Mania: Close your eyes for a moment and imagine the deep, savory smell of beef-and-onion goodness. Empanadas de pino. Their aroma invades the air, the room, your nostrils. September is synonymous with empanadas, made from scratch with a juicy steak filling and crisp yet tender dough. In the countryside, the aroma wafts from the typical mud ovens where these delicious packages are baked to perfection. The perfect snack, brunch, lunch, dinner. Any time.

El Dieciocho: September 18 is the big holiday of the year. Think of it as Chile’s combination of July 4^th and Thanksgiving. A time of national pride and unity with their Independence and celebrating rustic traditions from flying kites to rodeos and dancing cueca. A big focal point that brings people together is around the grill: Meats, sausages, skewers, empanadas. We’ll get down and dirty with some authentic festivities in the campo for you guys.

Springtime Flowers: After 3 months of rainy season, the landscape comes alive with spring flowers. Seas of red poppies cover hills; patches of orange poppies border the country roads. Flowers burst among vineyard rows. The cerros, hills, are carpeted in different shades of emerald. Cast against an azure sky, it’s so darn breathtaking.

Chile’s 3 C’s: Can you guess what this stands for? Stop reading and try. I’ll give you a hint—it’s wine-related. Okay, okay. Cabernet Sauvignon, Carmenere, and Carignan. That’s where Chile has the world wine market cornered right now, in red wines at least. You’ll discover why Chile has the perfect terroir to grow primo Cabernet, especially in the Maipo. Understand how the “lost” grape from Bordeaux, Carmenere, found its home in Chile and has thrived. Taste the oddball grape, Carignan, made particularly small producers in the southern Maule valley—earthy, smooth as velvet and seductive.

Perfect Weather: Early spring in Chile means cool mornings and warm, sunshine-filled days in the high 60s to low 70s. Think of Napa in early April. It’s the perfect weather for a light sweater and a Sauvignon Blanc under the sun. It’s a breezy month that is full of freshness from the Pacific and Andes. Absolutely Delicious.

Hemisphere Hopping: By early September, the thought of cooler temperatures (especially for y’all down south) sounds heavenly, right? Just get on a plane and hop a hemisphere down to these latitudes where the above said weather is a reality. Jetlag? No, señor. We are on Eastern time in Chile until North America falls back; and we jump forward into summer in October.

Cheese, Olive Oil, Seafood, Oh my: This trip is for wine lovers, foodies, cooks, chefs, travellers and adventurists. Be prepared to have your mind blown by the food artisans, vintners, fishermen, cooks and people behind the projects we’ll visit. They are my inspiration. And they will be yours, too. Be sure to bring your notebook–and a camera (hopefully with the right battery charger…).

New Cooking Inspirations: Looking for new recipes and ways to eat at home. This trip will give you months’ worth of ideas and wine pairing combinations (and dinner party menus to impress your friends). Learn to make a mean ceviche, some seriously picante pil pil (garlic & chili sauce), master the art of Pastel de Choclo or empanadas. Chilean food is elemental and driven by the amazing ingredients. It will inspire you to eat cleaner, simpler, and embark on new flavor combinations. And the wine pairings? The wine intensive portion of the tour will be a class on Chilean Wines 101—without the final exam.

Cool people, seriously: Let’s face it, cool people unite on these tours. Lifelong friendships are born. Many abrazos are exchanged during a wine moment. The groups come from all walks of life but the driving force is the food, wine, travel, and good company. And of course, I will be on hand, as your host, to bring you all together.

Interested? Email us for more information and prices for our Signature Journey, Diverse, Vibrant Chile from September 8-14, 2012, info@lizcaskey.com

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Think it’s possible to overdose on caffeine? It is. Especially when you’re slipped it, unknowingly.

Most serious coffee drinkers, like myself back in the day, scoffed at the decaf crowd. A bunch of wimps and health freaks that were missing the whole point of drinking coffee in the first place. In fact, I was such a caffeine fiend, I not only would do morning coffee, but also pop a couple guaraná pills and head to the gym to work out to burn off the effect—and more calories.

Then something happened last year. Coffee began to make me anxious. Antsy. Nervous. Accelerated. I knew I had to ditch it. Fully aware of the pending migraine that stood between me and freedom from caffeine dependency, I decided to quit cold turkey over a weekend. I confronted, head on, the dreaded coffee “crash” and horrendous headache, the reason most coffee drinkers cite for never kicking the habit.

My withdrawal weekend lingers in my memory like a smoky haze in a milonga. Besides the sensation of my brain colliding abruptly against my skull, as if it could explode with any slight movement, my energy was zapped. Yes, an invisible Mac truck had run me over and left me strewn on the bed. Under the dense brain fog, I went into survival mode, napping on and off for nearly two days straight. I woke to eat and ingest undisclosed amounts of ibuprofen. Monday morning, something funny happened. I woke up on my own. No iPhone alarm. No coffee to get the gears moving. The brain fog had lifted. I felt light, almost reborn. Woohoo, I was officially caffeine free.

And so that was the end of caffeine for me. Until yesterday morning.

After a week on the road in Mendoza and Uruguay with our Southern Cone Sampler tour, I decompressed in Buenos Aires at the palacial Alvear Palace. I awoke early Sunday morning to their succulent buffet breakfast after a comforting night’s sleep. I settled into a quiet corner of the luminous, plant-covered L’Orangerie to write. I asked the hostess for a double decaf espresso. After several days of instant decaf coffee hell, I basked in the delight of a good decaf espresso. I ordered a second.

Halfway through the cup, I felt unusually awake. Jittery. Weird. A couple more sips and I made a joke to my mozo, Diego, as he refreshed my OJ about the sugar in the dulce de leche giving me a rush. He laughed and said, “More likely is all that espresso.” Say what?!  Upon further investigation, there was effectively a mix up at the espresso bar and I had been served the high-test stuff, not decaf. That’s right, four shots of espresso. I had been “caffed”. This was going to get interesting.

If there was any shadow of a doubt about the mood-altering effects of caffeine, this unexpected experiment proved it. I, literally, was bouncing off the walls of my suite at the Alvear. Instead of getting anxious, I had to figure out how to “dump” this excess energy and get the drug out of my system as quickly as possible.

I jammed to Phoenix in my room for a while until breakfast had settled. I had to move to physically burn up this energy. I contemplated cartwheels or doing burpees. Nah, my neighbors would not love me for that at 9:30am Sunday morning. I opted for the fitness center. I pushed myself hard for 45 minutes of intense cardio while watching TV Monde. I was still revved. The trainer intervened and asked me to down a liter of water, and sent me to sweat it out in the Turkish Steam bath for 45 minutes in intervals.

Three hours later, after the sauna, I started to come down. As I boarded the plane home from Aeroparque, I felt almost normal. While the whole situation now seems comical, it has recommitted me to staying decaffeinated on a permanent basis. I really don’t need the drug (coffee for flavor is another story).

Oh, and note to self–always triple check that the coffee’s decaf with the waiter. Live and learn.

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Over Semana Santa, my husband and I left behind the never-ending summer in Santiago and jetted to the end of the South American continent. Patagonia. This was my seventh trip to the region, and people appeared to be stumped what I could possibly be doing there again. Why do you go to Alaska, or the fjords of Norway, or the Grand Canyon? Nature. To experience a pristine, untouched corner of the world. Mountains, Ice, Fjords. Hiking, biking, walking, kayaking, horseback riding, and panoramic vistas at every bend. Being a city girl, sometimes it’s necessary to get into Mother Nature– touch her, feel her, hear her, see her, appreciate her. It’s therapy for urban living.

We flew to the southernmost city in Chile, Punta Arenas and traveled across the windblown estepa from the Straits of Magellan to the town of Puerto Natales, nearly three hours away on the Fjord of Last Hope. Destination? The newish hotel, The Singular Patagonia, which hugs the shores of the fjord in historic Puerto Bories. The handsome brick factory built in 1915, now a historical monument, has been expertly “recycled” using environmentally friendly architecture to transform the old frigorífico, cold-storage space, which originally exported mutton to Europe. Tall ceilings, large picture windows, and warm light stream into the space and fill it with warmth and coziness, reflected in its cushy furniture and leather armchairs, inviting you to linger over your Cabernet and a book.

While you could certainly knock yourself out with one excursion after the other, this hotel was relaxing and we were grateful for a quiet rainy day-turned-snowstorm on Good Friday. As the snow came down with fury, we cozied in our hotel room drinking red wine and reading a book. I went to sweat in the Turkish steam bath—with a view. There’s something comforting about being inside, warm, and safe when the elements are so brutal outside. We dined on perfectly seared guanaco fillet (cousin of Alpaca), wild hare in escabeche, succulent sea scallops, Patagonian hake with crispy skin, and fresh, organic vegetables. And a lot of wine. Considering our far-flung location, I could hardly believe the wine picks like Casa Marin Pinot Noir, Lapostolle Sauvignon Blanc, and even Miguel Torres Santa Digna Estelado, a pink sparkler made from the Mission grape.

That Saturday, we crossed the border into Argentina at Cerro Castillo towards El Calafate. As we moved though the Argentine estepa, we left behind the fall colors, trees, and mountains and traversed miles of wide open pampas. Argentine Patagonia is predominantly an arid, cold desert tinged by specs of mata negra and coirón grasses, giving the appearance of a golden carpet as the sun’s rays shown down on the terrain.

We snaked towards El Calafate, catching a shimmer of the intensely turquoise Lago Argentino. In the distance, the jagged peaks of El Chaltén (or Fitz Roy) rose like daggers, Argentina’s equivalent of Torres del Paine. As we descended towards civilization, our driver mentioned that the province of Santa Cruz is Kirchnerland. That’s right, the home province of the late Nestor and currently very “noted” Cristina Kirchner, Argentina’s president.

We arrived at Eolo, secluded in the windswept Anita Valley about 25 minutes from town. The mountain peaks were dusted with snow like powdered sugar, the distant memory of Friday’s snowstorm. Modeled on a classic sheep estancia, Eolo’s architecture pays homage to the old estancias with corrugated zinc walls and gabled roofs. Eolo is the perfect refuge from the elements of these latitudes of the earth.

The interior showcases plush textiles and earthy tones to contrast the beautiful, parched scenery outside through picture windows where your eyes never tire of the landscape. Eolo felt warm, comfy, delightfully homey yet sophisticated. Although blustery, we trekked up the hill, Cerro Frías, behind the hotel to discover dozens of wild hares, the farm’s resident calves, and horses grazing for a dazzling view of the lake and Torres del Paine in the distance.

The next morning, we headed for the Perito Moreno glacier, one of the few glaciers that are stable (that is, not receding). Part of the Patagonian ice field, the third largest in world after Antarctica and Greenland, we signed up to do a trek on the glacier. To be honest, I was not sure how this would go over…let’s see, strap on some ice skates and go Mountain climbing. Hmm…

I did it. The trek made me appreciate the immensity of the glacier, however, it’s not a sport I will be taking up anytime soon (hello, big crevices!). The texture of the ice surprised me as to felt like hiking on a bunch of crush ice cubes. The glacier is certainly alive and in motion. As we hiked, the azure ice had intricate rivers flowing, pools, and even caverns carved from the water.

As we returned to Eolo, exhausted from the hike and overdose of fresh, cold air, the sun peeped through the clouds casting golden spotlights on the fields where sheep pastured peacefully. The clouds shifted and the sun shone, like a spotlight, on the steep hills, illuminating them in large swaths of yellow and orange. We delighted back at the lodge in afternoon tea with pistachio macaroons as the wind howled. As fickle as the weather can be in Patagonia, the only true constant is the wind. It can be as gentle as a tickle, shrill as a banchi, or even assaulting, shaking the window panes.

The morning we returned to Chile, we were blessed with the most magnificent sunrise. The dark, eastern sky slowly filled with threads of intense pink, orange, and purple as the sun announced its daily arrival. It was a grand show, on par with an opera or any concert. I sat there with my espresso in complete awe. It was one of those fleeting moments that no picture can do justice. The midnight blue waters of the lake slowly took its greenish hue, and this corner of Earth moved into daylight. Perhaps that is the true magic of Patagonia. It reconnects every single one of us back to nature’s magic. The only objective of our days there were to contemplate and appreciate the beauty of this planet we are so fortunate to live on. I, for one, always return from Patagonia feeling tremendously grateful.

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Think that Uruguay is all about Tannat? Only Reds? Think again. This summer, we sipped away on astoundingly good local whites while traveling in country from everybody’s favorite zinger, Sauvignon Blanc, to some quirky ones like Albariño and Sauvignon Gris. Keep your eye on Uruguay. It may be small but the wine quality and diversity is quite a powerhouse. This is only the tip of the barrel…

Garzón Albariño

This could go down as our favorite white wine this summer. We loved it both for its simple, straight forward, easy drinking nature and the price point (at US$12, can you really go wrong?). Slightly floral on the nose, almost reminiscent of a Viognier, with subtle notes of sweet white peaches this wine sly. In the mouth, it kicks with pushy acidity, mineral notes, and a little citrus. I liked the creamy texture paired with the acidity and never got bored pairing it with grilled chipirones, baby squid.

Bouza Albariño

This wine has become somewhat of a “cult” wine. An albariño? Really? It’s all about supply and demand. Made from small parcels in their Canelones vineyard, Bouza was the first to import and experiment with this humble grape from Galicia, Spain. Fittingly, the weather is similar and the results were–beyond what anyone expected. It became a hit and everybody wanted it. This has got intense floral aromas and the presence of honeyed pears backed by citrusy notes. In the mouth, the acid is striking and it lingers just long enough. I pair this with anything from arugula and pumpkin salad to scallops gratin. This is imported now to the US. Rejoice!

Casa Figuera Sauvignon Gris

I heart this quirky little wine.  If you’re in Uruguay and find it in a wine shop, on a menu, order it and remember me. They only make a couple thousand bottles. Please try it. Sauvignon Gris is a mutation of Sauvignon Blanc hailing from central and southwest France. However, since this is partially aged in barrels, the aromas and body change considerably to yield a rounder, richer wine. Thus, in my opinion, it pairs with more foods and even meat. On the nose, this wine has tropical fruit notes like guava and grapefruit. In the mouth, there is a hint of the barrel but it’s well integrated. The acidity is bright, it has a great mout feel and holds on just long enough. It feels like a bright wine bursting of vitality. It pairs extraordinarily well with fatty fish like salmon or tuna, rabbit, smoked meats, and roasted veggie dishes. If you want a fun experiment, try it with lemon ice cream and then write me.

Juanicó Atlántico Sur Sauvignon Blanc

Thank you. THANK YOU. Reason number 27 why I love Uruguayan wines. The low alcohol content more on par with European wines. This wine barely tips over 12%. In a region where you get used to being slapped by 14-15% alcohol, this is like sending your palate, and liver, on vacation (or maybe that would be rehab for the latter). This is a new Single Vineyard reserve line from Juanicó, one of the pioneer wineries in Uruguay. The nose is very, very aromatic with notes of grass, green tomatoes, lemon, and even cherimoya (custard apple). In the mouth, while there is good acidity, it didn’t leave me blinded like some of the Chilean cousins (trade off in lesser alcohol though), but it was well balanced. It’s tasty but lasts about 4 seconds and then you think, where did my wine go? And sip again. It’s a nice little song albeit short. Just hit play again.

Pizzorno Don Próspero Sauvignon Blanc

This Sauvignon Blanc is dry as a bone. Yay! Pale, straw in color it has strong aromatics that grab your nostrils like lemon, peaches, and very faint tropical fruit. The acidity of this wine is fresh, fresh, fresh and you could easily drink liters of it while nibbling on sushi (as we did one evening at Kokoro, the only real Japanese food in Montevideo). The body has good structure, nice acid, and is well balanced. It makes your mouth water, the acid test for any Sauvignon Blanc. I love the price point on this wine (to the tune of US$20 in restaurants), plus you can easily find it throughout Uruguay on many menus. Tried and true.

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One of the things that I most love about living in South America is the street food. Those roadside stands, the market tables, and the hawkers are such a huge part of the eating experience here.  Here’s my short list of my favorite street foods from Peru, Chile, Argentina, Uruguay, and Brazil.  Go to a place recommended by someone’s who food opinion you trust, or use common sense as to the cleanliness of the vendor and freshness of the food, which can never hide. Just writing this post is making me hungry.

Chile

On any given morning at La Vega you’ll see a crowd of people gathered around stands where short women, roll out orange-colored dough into disks. Tossed into hot oil, they float to the top in the bubbling oil and handed to you on a skewer. This, my friends, is Chile’s favorite street food called sopaipillas. Fleshy orange pumpkin (always savory, never sweet) is cooked, mashed, and needed into the dough for a delicious, fluffy, savory taste. How do they like it? Laced with racy pebre, chili sauce tinged with cilantro and onions.

Many corners are makeshift restaurants pumping out colossial sandwiches and the ubiquitous completos, hot dogs with the works. Take one skinny hot dog, plus a bun, and see how much chopped tomato (1/2 cup), mashed avocado (2/3 cup), and mayo (1/4 cup) it can possibly hold without falling apart under its own weight. Then, try to eat it—gracefully. These babies are, for a reason, the much-beloved post-partying food.

During warm weather, Chileans have an internal thermometer that soars with the mercury in the afternoon. They don’t reach for Iced Tea or Lemonade here. No, no, no. Head out into the downtown area and carritos hawking mote con huesillo are on just about every corner. It’s the ice cold juice made from sundried peaches that make this drink magic.

Peru

Peruvian street food always feels like a party since there’s so much flavor happening in every bite.  Anticuchos are arguably a gastronomic subculture throughout the country where people line up in the early evening to sink their teeth into tender, rich beef heart marinated in the most umami-licious concoction of flavors your palate could every imagine. And grilled over open flames. So. Damn. Good. If you’re a vegetarian, I am really sorry because this is one of those food rites of passage in Peru where there’s a clear before and after.

A close second favorite of mine are tamales. Always made fresh in the morning, the vendors (usually women) sit tucked away in corners selling these steamed, hot treasures (all made with fresh, non GMO Peruvian corn). They sell out like hot cakes. There are two types—salado or dulce. The savory version has chili, onions, a bit of meat, and an olive while the sweet one has raisins. Why they don’t have whole bakeries making these abroad yet is beyond me. I am totally addicted to them.

While I could go on about ceviche, a given in Lima and most of the country, most curious is that in the highlands, or La Sierra, locals l-o-v-e to snack on hard-boiled quail’s eggs. It’s not uncommon in the Sacred Valley to see vendors shelling quail’s eggs and selling six of them for a sole (about US$.30).

Brazil

 The last time I spent a day on Ipanema beach in Río de Janeiro, many moons ago, I marveled at how everything I needed in life magically appeared on my canga, Brazilian beach towel. Forget your SPF? No problem. Stepped on your sunnies (shitttt!)? Check out 100 designer knock-offs. Hungry? Why, yes. Very. How about some skewers of juicy, just-off-the-grill camarão (shrimp) with an ice-cold beer and touch of lime. Now these guys are really reading my mind.

Beyond the beaches, I became enchanted by pastéis, a form of the empanada brought to Brazil by the Portugese. I have brilliant memories of walking through the Saturday market in Jardins (São Paulo) to stop at a stand pumping out the crunchiest, most delicious ones ever I have had tasted. The secret? The fry-master swore that the touch of cachaça, a local firewater, in the dough made it crisp–it does, tested in our cookbook. The crunchy outside encased dynamo fillings like shredded chicken breast with gooey catupiry cheese, or prawns with a touch of spice and chunks of tender palm hearts.

In northern Brazil, particularly the state of Bahia, aracajé was brought by with the slaves from Western Africa, sold on the streets of Bahia by freed female slaves. This bean cake is a mixture of mashed black-eyed beans, onions and shrimp fried in dendê (palm oil). Palm oil, amigos, is not for the faint of heart. It’s incredibly aromatic, heavy on your stomach, and artery blocking. Let’s suppose you’ve thrown health precautions to the wind and want to eat it following local custom. Have the baiana de aracajé dress your bean cake with spicy, shrimpy  pastes, like vatapá and caruru, after it’s been halved. Top it off with a crunchy, fresh salad.

Uruguay

Wandering the streets of Montevideo (and in all fairness, other South American capitals), you suddenly sense a perfume of nutty, caramel-laden goodness. Where is that coming from?? On the corner, you see a guy doing magic in a copper pot as sugar is transformed into caramel. Roasted peanuts are gently coated as he tosses them with a mesmerizing, efficient movement. Once cooled, garrapiñada turns into little bites of love. They really hit all the right notes you crave in a snack: crunchy, toasty, sweet, salty in each tiny bite.

Also inherited from the Spanish is the love for churros, the European equivalent of a long, tubular doughnut. Churros wagons show up in many parks (where there are kids, of course), typically stuffed with dulce de leche or dusted with cinnamon-sugar. Or take them home and try dipping them in your hot chocolate.

Empanadas may not be original to Montevideo, they’re prolific throughout South America, but there’s one stop that’s a must when you’re in Cuidad Vieja. El Rincón, on the corner of Rincón and Zabala, specializes in 15 flavors of empanadas with decidedly Uruguayan flavors. Try the ham with hearts of palm and salsa golf (mayo with ketchup), this unusual sauce that people go crazy over. How about the capresse with artisan mozzarella, fresh tomato and albahaca, a nod to the heavy Italian heritage? All baked, by the way.

Argentina

Argentina and Uruguay have a lot of overlap in some street foods like the above-said garrapiñada and empanadas. However, when in Argentina, meat is king. Understandably, there are stands offering a parrilla, full grill, for the working folks of the city who don’t have time to stop for lunch or go light up the grill. Porteños love to down choripan (sausage sandwich) and vacipan (flank steak sandwich) straight off the flames. Or try an on-the-go, milanesa, a bread-coated, crunchy steak stuffed in a roll. Dose any of the above options with copious amounts of chimichurri and salsa criolla to hit multiple pleasure centers.

Often, while not technically street food since sold in joints, a slice of Buenos Aires-style pizza like fugazza, a type of pizza made without tomato sauce and topped with onions; or fainá, a flat bread made with garbanzo flour are favorite snacks.

Have fun exploring!

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This past weekend I finally saw the movie, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. I had been holding out until I finished, and digested, the book. It’s been a while since I have read a novel that has captivated my imagination so vividly. The main character, Lisbeth Salander, is so intriguing and the plot is so twisted, I couldn’t put it down (I am now half way through the second book, The Girl that Kicked the Hornet’s Nest). That being said, I am glad I saw the movie after the book. It deviated from the book in several instances and the ending was slightly changed. However, the casting was phenomenal, the imagery of Sweden really brought the story to life, and it ended up being less graphic than what I had expected. After being a non-fiction reader for so long, I am back into the world of novels.

On totally different another note, Peru has me super excited about its culinary scene. It is truly on the up and gaining momentum. In fact, the first dates for our Signature Journeys in Peru this June are already filled. We have just opened dates for September 29-October 6, 2012 and next year, May 11-18, 2013. The Wall Street Journal proclaimed Peru the “Next Big Thing” in food for 2012. Certainly, its cuisine is on the lips of every top chef in the world at this moment. Why? Vibrancy, freshness, and diverse flavors. It is a cuisine that is driven by its regions while also expressing five centuries of Spanish, West African, Japanese, Chinese, and the indigenous influence.

With 84 microclimates, from the Pacific Ocean to Amazon, desert, Andes Mountains, and Altiplano, just about everything grows somewhere in Peru: rice, coffee, cocoa beans, quinoa, thousands of tubers, tropical fruit, organic vegetables, chilies, grapes for the brandy Pisco, and more. The cuisine’s key ingredients are the floral, piquant Chile called Ají Amarillo (yellow chili), perhaps the soul of Peruvian dishes, along with the tongue-tingling rocoto pepper slivered on ceviche .

Peru is also a nation of foodies from humble huariques (joints) to ceviche stalls to top restaurants. Peruvians love food, know how to cook, and have an opinion about it. They see it as a fundamental part of their national identity, regional pride, and a common denominator that all share. Look at the success of Mistura, one of the largest food festivals in the world that takes place in Lima every September.

One of the trends that separates Peruvian food from its other Latin cousins, particularly in the capital of Lima, is the hefty Asian immigration that left a stamp on the country in the late 1800s. The immigrants brought their vision of cooking with stir-frying, dumplings, skewers, raw seafood dishes, sushi rolls with toppings, and fused them with the local ingredients on hand. The other big differentiator is the seafood. Peruvian food is a seafood lover’s dream, often prepared raw or “cured” with high acid from key lime juice. For those unfamiliar with Peruvian food, this bridge in the form of the Japanese influence, makes it easy to start exploring. For example, many of the best-loved national dishes like tiraditos (slices of raw fish, dressed in sweet-and-sour sauces, sound like dressed up sashimi?) are reminiscent of Japanese dishes–with a twist. Nobu actually got his ideas for his restaurant in Peru.

As a destination, Lima has long been overlooked by many travelers as an overnight stopover en route to Cuzco and the Machu Picchu. That is a big, big mistake in my book. For foodies, Lima is akin to other specific gastronomic destinations like New Orleans or Hong Kong. In fact, many Chileans are now doing “foodie weekends” in Lima given the fervent dining scene. Lima’s restaurants can change regularly so my favorites list can be a moving target. Here is a short list of my favorite spots. If you want to dig deeper, join me on a Signature Journey of Peru, or plan your own private itinerary any time of the year. We’ll take you to discover the markets, chefs, joints, and culture behind the delicious dishes and ingredients.

Madam Tusan (Chifa): Gastón Acurio is a living culinary legend in Peru and commonly revered with the popularity of a celebrity like Brad Pitt or Barack Obama. Chifa cuisine is so common in Lima that many neighborhoods have their own restaurant. However, Madam Tusan breaks away from the typical offerings with a stylish, fashionable spot and more refined takes on the classics. Open and airy, complete with a red dragon, musts on the menu are the plump Siu Mai (steamed dumplings) and crispy wantans to start. For mains, share family-style some of the saltados, stir fries, or succulent duck.

Tía Grima (Street Food): You cannot step foot in Lima without seeing Grima at least one evening in Miraflores. Antecuchos, ox heart skewers, are a beloved tradition that are hawked from street carts. Folks will line up for these after 7pm and the line can get long (or the food runs out…). Marinated chunks of beef heart are grilled to tender, moist perfection. Don’t turn your nose up at these if you haven’t tried. The first time I ate them, I assumed I was given steak. I declared the skewers the best meat I had ever tasted. Then the truth was revealed—it was beef heart. I never looked back. Trust me, these antecuchos are near obsession among limeños for a reason.

El Mercado (Ceviche): Rafael Osterling is one of Lima’s reference chefs and this casual yet swish lunch spot is perfect to indulge in the capital’s favorite dish: ceviche. Here, you can knock yourself out trying several different varieties, including their signature dish Ceviche Mercado, that has fried pejerrey and calamari for a nice crunchy texture and contrast to the high acid of the key limes. Beyond that, the extensive menu has lovely causas (mashed potato terrines), tacu tacu (bean tamale) and other classic dishes like butifarra sandwiches. Order a pisco sour and listo.

Maido (Nikkei): Nikkei cuisine is a fascinating blend of Peruvian-Japanese fusion that takes a twist on traditional sushi and Japanese dishes. This is the new-ish restaurant of chef Mitsuharu Tsumura in Miraflores. The service is amazing. By far the best we had in Lima. The excellent wine list carries many great Chilean whites (Amayna Sauvignon Blanc made for sushi) and the fish is varied and fresh, fresh, fresh. The inventive rolls are little explosions of taste and texture. While you could order gyozas, stir fries and more off the menu, we didn’t make it off the sushi list.

Malabar (Amazonian): Pedro Miguel Schiaffino is today one of Peru’s most important chefs who has pioneered Amazonian cuisine in his Lima restaurant, and on board the luxe Aqua Expeditions in Iquitos. Located in an understated building in San Isidro, the interior has clean lines, warm colors and texture to set the stage for the parade of unusual flavors, creatures, fruits, and vegetables that hail from the jungle. Order a pink camu camu sour and nosh on the delicious amuses. Try the chona, fresh heart of palm, often in a soufflé or served fresh like thin fettucine. Fish like paiche are grilled to juicy perfection and paired with purees and vinaigrettes of acidic fruits like cocona. Flawless execution and fun cocktails make for an adventure into the jungle.

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This Saturday, my husband and I went out to the tapas bar at the Ritz Carlton Santiago called Arola. Arola is the new-ish project of Spanish Michelin-starred chef, Sergi Arola, from Barcelona. The new debut has gone hand-in-hand with an unveiling of the Ritz’s new modern, stylish look and total betterment on the food/wine front.

As we sipped this fizzy, dark red called Lambrusco from Italy with our tapas, I excused myself to the ladies room (really an excuse to put on lipstick). About 45 minutes later, wanting to take a picture with my iPhone, I fumbled for it in my purse. Not there. Ok…I look in the cushions of the couch. The floor. No sign of it. I tried to keep my composure and decided to retrace my steps back to the bathroom, the last place I remembered fishing it out of my purse (full disclosure: amount of wine not helping at this point). Nothing. I come back, annoyed with myself, that I officially lost my iPhone. Gone. Tchau. Adios. And so stupidly.

A security guard approached me and asked if I had left it in the bathroom about 45 minutes ago. Yeah…He says, “no worries, we have it”. There it was. Somebody turned it in to lost and found. I could hardly believe it. In that moment, my faith in people genuinely being honest was restored (especially in this country where you put it down and it’s gone). I have had this happen with flowers at La Vega but never an expensive IT item like an iPhone. I felt grateful my luck of being at the Ritz when this happened. The experience trailed on their superb service the entire evening.  I had learned my lesson and considered myself one lucky gal.

I want to share with you guys a piece I wrote for Placeres Magazine on why Santiago is a total foodie destination now in Latin America. Get out and enjoy the city. We’re lucky to live in a place that’s blossoming and having new, top notch varied restaurants open all the time. Enjoy–and hang onto your iPhones.

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So many flowers get thrown by international press at the restaurant scene in Buenos Aires, Lima, Sao Paulo, and even Bogotá. Sure, they are great. But what about Santiago? Today, there’s an effervescent food culture, restaurant happening, people that “go out”. Santiago is a foodie destination.

I have some criteria as to what constitutes a foodie destination and the attributes a city of this nature is. As I will prove below, Santiago fills all the requisites.

Markets Galore: In Chile, we are truly blessed to have the most amazing fresh, seasonal products. From fruit and vegetables to fish and seafood. We eat with the seasons here. Who in their right mind would ever try to make a pastel de choclo, corn pie, in the July, the depths of winter when corn season is long gone? Err, no Chilean would! That’s majorly important. Chileans eat according to nature’s bounty and follows its fruits during the year. Many of the typically Chilean dishes reflect that seasonality–and that’s key. This does not happen everywhere, especially in the US, where you can get melon in January and blueberries or halibut year round. For me, it’s daily or weekly inspiration. This is a fundamental pillar in what Chilean cuisine is. The same seasonality translates for the sea, too. Fishermen respect the natural cycles of spawning, reproduction and growth so you eat different seafood at different times of the year. Now, the big challenge, let’s get into this idea of everything a punto–perfectly cooked and al dente. Good-bye charred steak, dry fish, and mushy veggies that in the past plagued many kitchens.

Dedicated Artisans: The definition of an artisan is a worked in a skill trade, often making something by hand. I would add that artisans are often masters and dedicate their lives to the pursuit of perfection in their art. I am talking about perfection made by hand, procuring and using the best ingredients to fulfill its full potential. Not everything has to look perfect. This searching, if you will, is injected with a huge dosis of passion and love. In Santiago, we now have great artisan products, made by locals and resident foreigners, with specialized stores. The same as chefs and skilled cooks in restaurantes, these folks are pivotal in the development of the local gastronomy. Some references here are:  Belgian chocolate maker Damian Mercer and his dangerously delectable chocolates; Las Violetas guardians of colonial pastries and the best huevo mol desserts in town; Pichasca with their suave cheeses and tangy yogurt made from goat’s milk on the hills of  Ovalle; Le Ciccoline for its old school French bread when you really just need some brioche; textbook perfect espresso shots from Café Lama at Espresso Bar. Shops like Coquinaria have done a noteworthy job in bringing together artisan olive oil like Zeitun, pink rock salt from Los Andes, and the addicitive cured game prosciutto (Llama, deer, wild board) from La Unión. These are the people bringing the products to the population and increasing the foodie interest in the capital.

Wine Scene: Finally. Finally! The wine scene is moving here and it’s showing on wine lists in many great restaurants. I hope to see the culture of drinking good wine grow even more. It’s so awesome though to go out to eat and see wine lists, by the bottle and the glass, put together with creativity, good taste, and thought. And even a sommelier is now standard in many top restaurants to help guide diners. The only thing I think needs to grow is the wines-by-the-glass concept of higher calibur in more bars and ethnic joints, bistros, etc. Drinking fine wine doesn’t need to be a gourmet extravaganza and sometimes, while friends are downing their pisco sours, I would go for a nice glass of champagne.  Good wines by the glass gets people experimenting and moving beyond Cabernet to try a Carignan, Syrah, Merlot, maybe a Viognier. Open their palates. And please restaurant managers, don’t charge 3-4 times retail. In Chile, 2 times retail mark-up is standard. Marking up wines, WON’T get people to drink better, and more, wine! If we are judging restaurants by their wine lists, here’s my short list: Baco, Astrid & Gastón, Tierra Noble, Cuerovaca, Ox & Opera.

Chefs & Cooks: The tendency on a worldwide level has been, for some time, that people want to be closer to the kitchen and its preparations. They are stepping away from abstact, high-concept food experiments like molecular and want honest food that is recognizable, well prepared and familiar. Regional. Local. Authentic. The chefs are the major catalysts of our experience at the table. In picadas, joints, there’s a direct relationship between the diners and the owner (nearly always on site and often cooking). The focus is on that empathy, relationship, and a familiar flavor done well. Parallel to this, you have a trend in Santiago of young chefs that are pushing limits as to the interpretation of Chilean ingredients and fusing them with more sophisticated techniques learned in culinary school (often French) to play with flavors and sensations. There are various names, I won’t mention any (hehe), and certainly there’s a current list of “culinary rock stars” that are putting together their own signature touches on Chilean nouveau cuisine.

Destination Restaurants: If there’s a joint that serves amazing food, wouldn’t you be willing to cross the entire city to eat there? Rhetorical question. That’s gastronomic culture. Restaurants that have been around for generations, where the family still receives you are the soul of local cuisine, in my humble opinion. Any culinary scene has to be a balance of what people eat and crave to eat on a day-to-day basis and a more “produced” version which is theatrical. To name some old school places that really specialize and rock certain dishes, here’s a few I love: Fuente Alemana to devour a Lomito Italiano; Galindo to slurp up their brothy Chicken cazuela; Carne Mechada (tomatoy-wine-pot roast) at Liguria; or Plateada (marinated beef brisket) or Porotos Granados (Cranberry bean stew with pumpkin) at Bar Nacional. Or how about the ethnic haunts for traditional Japanese utilizing Chile’s brilliant seafood like Kintaro and Japón for sushi, the insane falafel from Asly Falafel. Obviously there are gastronomic temples like Astrid & Gastón, the brand new Arola tapas bar in the Ritz (Michelin-star chef from Barcelona), and Opera for delicate French food and a festival of foie gras.

The best thing happening? People are going out to eat. Even in February when half of Santiago relocates to the coast an hour of way, the restaurants are full. As long as the food is consistent, the service professional and friendly and makes everyone feel at home in their restaurant. That people want to return. The only thing left is to share, enjoy, and be part of this growing foodie culture that’s blossoming in Santiago on all levels. 

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I have been holding out on you guys a little. I took off on a trip to Uruguay without a peep. Sorry about that. We got wrapped up in the beach, grape harvest, scouting new artisan cheese makers near Colonia for our tours. Every time I visit Uruguay, I come home with the sensation this is the most under-discovered destination in South America. Probably not for long. There’s too much effervescence there to contain it.

We spent four days at quite possibly my favorite beach town in these latitudes called José Ignacio. It’s not really even a town, more like a village. While it’s relatively close to the high rises and glitz of Punta del Este, José Ignacio is its own world entirely. The best comparison is to the Hamptons in New York although José Ignacio’s origins were as a humble fishing village, where the boats still come and go every morning. It’s a blissful world where the day starts with a walk on the beaches, La Mansa or La Brava, stopping to gaze at the postcard-perfect lighthouse on the rocky point. Maybe after go for a bike ride up to the hamlet of Manantiales with its chic antique shops, peddling along the azure coast with the constant breeze. After, wiggle my toes in the sand and devour the Millennium Trilogy by Stieg Larsson on the Kindle. Lunch is never before 3or 4pm. Sunning at the beach is after 5pm when the sun’s harsh rays have subsided (ask my red butt about not respecting that rule the one day!) We linger until sunset as the sun sinks into the Western horizon as the sky turns pink and the ocean a deep blue. As a peninsula, José Ignacio has gorgeous sunrises and sunsets. We dine under the stars at 11pm where the Milky Way is visible with the naked eye. The next day, repeat. Oh, and I almost neglected to mention, there’s a fair amount of white wine sipping in between. We were particularly enamored with Bodega Garzón’s Albariño.  Dream land? Yes. And however long I stay, it still never feels like enough. Maybe that’s summer’s spell though.

While José Ignacio’s geography is gorgeous, it’s the vibe surrounding it that makes it so attractive. In a word? C-H-I-L-L. Low key, laid back. Luxurious and generous with nature and services, but not pretentious. Amazing restaurants in town abound like Jean Paul Bondoux’s new relaxed Palomar or Isla de Flores with its view of the lighthouse; the José Ignacio institution/meeting spot La Huella to suck down clericó and sushi; or a quick drive out to Marismo to dine in a sandy cove under the stars with dangerously delicious caipirinhas. Exquisite hotels like Playa Vik (photo below) made it really, REALLY hard to even leave the property with that sparkling view of the Uruguayan coast overlooking Playa Mansa I could eat up all day. Perhaps I could be convinced for a late morning romp in town for a coffee at Café de la Place.

I LOVE that there’s not a single ad or logo in site. Anywhere. That’s right, no beach umbrellas sporting Coca-Cola, local beers, awnings, signs. Nada. That’s this classy little town’s no-advertising policy. It’s so refreshing. All the houses are a maximum of two stories and tastefully meld into the landscape, many secluded by the rolling dunes and grasses typical of this part of the Uruguayan coast. While it has attracted an affluent crowd from Argentina, the US and beyond, celebrities roll up incognito in their beach pull over and shades to buy wine at Vinos del Mundo and eat up the chipirones (seared baby squid) and addictive Capresse salad at La Huella, just like everybody else. That’s the vibe. Simple luxury for everyone. I cannot wait until next summer.

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Yesterday I turned 35. For many years, I always felt I had to do something to celebrate my birthday. Trips to Buenos Aires, the beaches of Uruguay, parties on terraces, etc. etc.  Perhaps it was because for most of my life before I moved to South America, my birthday always fell smack in the middle of winter. In fact, I was born during a blizzard. The novelty of having a summer birthday has not worn off and I usually feel the need to “maximize” it.

Perhaps it’s maturity, or maybe a heavy travel schedule (most likely the latter!), but I was perfectly content with not doing anything for my birthday this year. At first, my husband eyed me with concern as it was so unlike me. Birthdays are about doing what you want, and this year I had zero anxiety about laying low. I didn’t feel like producing a dinner party to surround myself with friends…and then have to shop, cook, and clean it all up. Too big of a project. I didn’t need to get on a plane, in a car, a train, or any mode of transportation to go anywhere other than my own feet. After moving around so much in Peru for two weeks and our next trip closing in quickly (10 days in Uruguay), the idea of being at home seemed like the biggest luxury of all.

So my birthday theme evolved into “chilling at home”. A mini-staycation if you will. I had an amazing facial and manicure this weekend at Ambar Spa, 1.5 blocks from my front door (facial seriously did wonders for my skin). We ordered my favorite sushi from Kintaro, and kicked a great bottle of Cariblanco Sauvignon Blanc from Kingston Vineyards. A girlfriend unexpectedly came over for a Happy Birthday visit (what a great gift). I talked to family and felt the love on Facebook from everyone with the birthday greetings. Late afternoon, we went on a long walk through Parque Forestal and meandered the side streets of Lastarria. We climbed Santa Lucía for stunning views of Santiago and sunbathed on the terraces as a strong, balmy breeze enveloped us and we could see up to the ski resorts with a naked eye. No cake for this birthday girl, I had my eye on one (big) scoop of mocha ice cream from Café del Opera, laced with cinnamon. With the mercury near 88F, it was the perfect ice cream afternoon. So I have arrived to the second half of my 30s. It’s a good place to be, honestly.

We are in the middle of summer and I have decreased my consumption of red wine ten-fold. A big, heavy Malbec with this heat? Pass. That being said, Chilean Sauvignon Blanc is so crisp and delicious it makes for the perfect aperitif any time of the year. One of the classic pairing is Sauvignon Blanc and goat cheese. If you have not tried this, you really need to try this reference. There’s a reason it works. The tang in the cheese and the acidity in the wine make it “pop”, which creates momentary bliss in your mouth. Yay.

Goat cheese in Chile hails predominantly from the Northern semi-arid region known as Ovalle where goats graze free range on the short grasses of steep hill sides peppered by cacti. Only partially pasteurized, this cheese has a tangy flavor that can range from soft to hard in texture depending on the time of year and aging. In this video, I pair Emiliana Organico’s zingy Sauvignon Blanc with a zesty chevre-style goat cheese is a natural partner for this Sauvignon Blanc. The acidities of the cheese and wine gently coax out the cheeses’ creaminess while capitalizing on the wine’s juicy fruit. A crunchy topping of sweet cherry tomatoes that are in season (these are as sweet as candy!) and a touch of green herbs make the flavors grow in-crescendo. It’s an easy way to start any meal. You’re in winter? No worries, just add these toasty croutons to a steaming soup like pumpkin, lentil, or roasted tomato. Works like a charm.

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Patagonia has been on our mind a lot as of late since the Torres del Paine park suffered a major forest fire in early January. Fortunately, the park is now open as is Explora hotel in the park. There’s so much talk of Patagonia that people think it’s just one place and it’s really this wide spread, ultra diverse territory where you can make multiple trips. It’s not a once and done deal, as if Alaska and it’s beauty ever got “old”. For me, Patagonia is mythical. Epic. Its fabled images live as much in my imagination as they do in reality. Patagonia feels like the last frontier. A windblown land in the far southern reaches of the Americas with its closest continental neighbor being Antarctica.

First, let’s get our bearings. Patagonia covers the lower (southern) part of Chile & Argentina, encompassing an area roughly the size of Texas between both countries. Chilean Patagonia is really divided into two types of territories: Patagonia Insular includes all the fjords and channels along the Pacific Ocean down to Tierra del Fuego, and Cordillera Patagónica, encompasses the valleys and glaciers towards the steep Andes where Argentinean Patagonia begins. On the Argentine side, the valleys are a type of cold desert called the Pampa Patagónica.

Chilean Patagonia is composed of two sub-regions: the northern Aisén and southern Magallanes provinces. Recently, the boundaries of what has classically been considered “Patagonia” seem to be extending north to encompass the area from Palena up to Puerto Montt and the Lake District. I won’t get into this heated debate but for the purposes of this piece, we’ll include it since it’s essentially the jumping off point to head south. I also will be recommending my short list of properties to experience the region to the max in total comfort, and where we have our guests stay. If you’re interested in traveling, we can include these properties in any itinerary and set up all the details for you. Contact us.

Lakes District to Palena

The port town of Puerto Montt is the central hub for travelers heading to the Lake District near Puerto Varas, taking the famed Carretera Austral down into virgin eastern forests. Shove off on a boat here to the archipelago of Chiloé, one of the most unique insular cultures in Chile with dozens upon dozens of indigenous shellfish. While there’s not much to see in Puerto Montt beyond the Angelmó fish market and the airport, not too far away, the landscape will turn into rolling green pastures with serrated mountain peaks reaching into the sky in the distance with the cones of distant volcanoes. Here, the German settlers turned the wild forest into cultivated, productive land. Head towards the rugged coast with cliffs, beaches, and cloud forests and you’ll be treated to artisan fishing villages with painted dinghies which haven’t changed in decades. In some islands, electricity just arrived a year ago. During the summer, Humboldt penguins flock here. Chileans often refer to this as the end of “continent”. From this point, Chile crumbles into thousands of islands only to be navigated by astute sailors within its network of channels, sounds, archipelagos, majestic fjords, sapphire lakes, and the snow-peaked Andes in the distance–always.

My Pick: The Cliffs Preserve Patagonia

Set on a stunning 8,000 acres of private property where the Chilean continent ends southwest of Los Muermos, The Cliffs can only be described as magical; for me, it was life changing. This eco-luxury retreat brings you back to your natural centered place through long walks on the beach; the rhythmic sound of crashing waves; uplifting excursions to see Penguins; horseback riding with gauchos; even visiting the local fishing villages. I never tired of contemplating the beautiful sunrise and sunset every day with a constant view of the sea. Hike the perfumed bush; feed your body with the organic homegrown produce. When its time to slumber, crawl into the private hot tub or retreat to your cushy villa to cuddle up by the fire and hear the wind whisper and waves crash.

Aisén

This is one of the least populated and most dramatic areas of Patagonia in Chile. This thousand-mile extension is mostly unexplored by man-and I would add, fairly off the radar for most folks. Here, the snow-capped mountains, volcanoes, and azure lakes so dramatic and isolated that few humans have ever set foot on them. The fjords are untrodden, perhaps only an occasional tiny port or a fishing village. Cruise ships or yachts pass infrequently en route to the San Rafael Glacier, or making their way to/from Puerto Montt and Puerto Natales, 2-4 days at sea. Inland, the roads are gravel, in so-so condition, punctuated by a wildly fickle climate that changes on a dime. Much of the terrain is virgin and untouched, not unlike its geographic cousins the Alaska Panhandle, the Norwegian coast, and the Milford Sound in New Zealand. Apart from the mostly unpaved Careterra Austral, which rarely turns toward the coast, there are few roads in these latitudes. In fact, did you know that in this part of Patagonia over 70% is comprised of water? To get around, small planes, boats, and even helicopters are necessary. But those who persevere will be treated to the geography of their lives. You may catch glimpses of dolphins, whales, sea lions. You can catch the best trout of your life in the streams fed by snowmelt–and look up and see that glacier!  You can truly imagine how the earth was 10,000 years ago, and give thanks that these corners of earth still exist.

My Pick: Nomads of the Sea

This was by far one of the most mind-blowing, inspirational, and moving trips I have ever done (and it kicked off my obsession with helicopters). Given that I mentioned that Patagonia is primarily water and hard to penetrate, enter Nomads of the Sea. Nomad’s high-tech and intimate luxury ship sails deep into the virgin heart of Chile’s Patagonia. From there, take off in helicopter, jet boat, zodiacs , and other “toys” to explore the rain forest, mountains, and hundreds of pristine emerald lakes and rivers. Head out with resident marine biologists to meet with the dolphins; heli-ski down the side of a volcano; trek out to hot springs for a soak; or just be pampered by great chefs while overlooking millennium glaciers. While Nomads specializes in fly-fishing and nature-based adventures, on board there’s gourmet cuisine, fine wines, and creature comforts like the sauna and thalassotherapy baths. And yes, the novelty of the chopper never wore off, even though it felt like the family car to get around. So awesome.

Magallanes

The southernmost, largest and second least populated region of Chile, this province is a who’s who of geographical importance: Torres del Paine National Park, an UNESCO biosphere, Cape Horn, Tierra de Fuego Island, the Straigt of Magellan, and Chile’s Antarctica is included within this territory. This part of Chile touches the Southern Patagonian Ice Field, the third largest in the world, after Antarctica and Greenland. It is isolated from the rest of Chile by fierce storms and impassable mountains so that Magallanes can be reached only by air, sea, or overland from Argentina.

While many people envision the typical postcard pictures of jagged mountains veiled in clouds, electric-blue glaciers, emerald-colored lakes, and icebergs, parts of this part of the Chilean Patagonian are also arid, windblown Prarie land called the estepa. Here, the trees grow sideways with the incessant wind, lamb graze peacefully munching on yellow-colored grasses called coirón, and baqueanos (Southern gauchos) tend to the their flocks.

In the early 1900s, there was an important immigration from Scotland, Germany, and Croatia who founded Punta Arenas and Puerto Natales, setting up the sheeping industry with huge estancias.  Here, fishermen set off for days in the deep sea fjords to hunt the prized Patagonian toothfish (Chilean seabass), centolla (king crab), sea urchin, and conger eel. You can feast on jams and Pisco sours infused with the calafate berry, a wild indigenous berry between a blueberry and cranberry. Savor the best grass-fed lamb of your life. Kayak, hike, ride, bike, and take a couple days to hang out or base yourself from the Foodie Frontier town of Puerto Natales with great restaurants like Afrigonia and the sleek Indigo hotel. Soak up this amazingly diverse area where the sunsets at 11pm in the summer and comes up at 4:30am.

My Pick: Explora Patagonia

This exquisite refuge is located in the heart of the breathtaking Torres del Paine national park, an UNESCO biosphere. While this hotel had to unfortunately shut down while the fires were controlled, it’s now open and in perfect condition. The sweeping views of the turquoise Lake Pehoé and vistas of the serrated peaks of the Cuernos del Paine are from every angle of the hotel (they even carved out a peek-a-boo window in the Paine bathrooms next to the WC). From this base, exploring the 450,000 acres of the park is literally at your doorstep on horseback, by foot, by boat or kayak. The superb guides will take you to the glaciers, Torres, Valle del Francés or to see the rolling grasslands teeming with foxes, pumas, and graceful condors. One thing is to remember to keep a sense of humor here. Mother Nature will shower you wind, sudden snow, maybe a little hail, rain, bright sunshine, and then repeat.) The weather changes on the drop of a dime, especially in the summer time when the moist, warmer winds from the ocean collide with the glaciers and cause mini-storms. No biggie, you get back to your refuge, slip into the jacuzzi and a glass of bubbly somehow always finds a way into your hand.

My Favorite New Hotel: The Singular Patagonia

Opened to the public since November 2011, this brand new chic lodge is situated in the historic Puerto Bories, outside the little town of Puerto Natales. The first landing place of the settlers in the region, the handsome brick building built in 1915 is now a historical monument that has been expertly “recycled” using environmentally friendly architecture to transform the old frigorífico, cold-storage space which originally exported mutton to Europe. With primo location on the on the shores of the Last Hope Fjord, the spacious rooms all sport beautiful vistas of the water and snow-covered mountains in the distance. Jump off into the Torres del Paine Park, only an hour away, head to the Sierra Baguales for off road trekking, load up on their boat from their private pier to go cruise to see the glaciers. Visit the hotel’s private collection, a museum about the origins of the region, indulge in a massage, or in the evening, participate in their olive oil and wine tastings before dinner. What I most love, love, love about this hotel (besides the great digs, guides, and food) is that it’s truly all-inclusive even including alcoholic beverages beyond wine. Hello Calafate Berry Sours. Details, details.

Interested in booking your dream trip to Patagonia? We can take care of all the details from flights, to bookings with preferential rates, culinary add-ons, and pair it with the Argentina Patagonia in El Calafate or an exploration in Chile’s Wine Country and beyond. Contact us at info@lizcaskey or 904 687 0340.

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