Carnitas with a literal twist, or how I succumbed to this S. Florida charmer.

Let me just say that the lobby and rooms of the Ritz-Carlton Key Biscayne are not my favorite. The lobby feels like an early 2000s spec home, and the furniture and carpet in the rooms are coarse, in the way that a bale of straw is. But within the genre of plantation-beach-rustic, the hotel is beautiful, and the meeting and outdoor space are just brilliant.

And when night falls, this resort slips into something altogether a little more comfortable.

I toured the grounds after dark with Grace Sanchez, Director of Sales. The Ritz recently converted its kids club into Dune, an "Oceanfront Lounge on the Sand." Think white cotton lounge furniture under palm-frond umbrellas on the white sand bordered by breezy dune grass.

While at Dune, I think about  The Cay, a book I read in 6th grade about a blind white boy and a black creole man washed up on some Caribbean island during a hurricane. Never mind the 500-room hotel immediately behind me. 

We end up at Cantina Beach, which has el mejor Mexican food I've ever eaten (with the exception of some guacamole I once ate in Ixtapa). The restaurant is set under a giant palm frond pavilion. With a huff and a puff, the pavilion burned down a few months ago. Apparently it's hard to find good Mexican in Miami with all the Cubans dominating the culinary scene. The restaurant was sorely missed.  But if we've learned anything from those fabled pigs, its that sustainable and combustable construction materials are easy to come by.  The restaurant reopened a few days ago.

We dine on shrimp, octopus, and grouper ceviche. The pork carnitas, however, steel the show. They arrive as bone-in ribs with directions from the server:

1. Put a corn tortilla in left hand.
2. Pick up a rib with the right.
3. Place rib on the tortilla in left hand.
4. Cover rib with tortilla.
5. Twist vigorously until all the meet melts away from the bone.

I almost included a picture, but didn't want to be associated with the Shake Weight  phenomenon of late.

The carnitas are worth the trip.

Prim and a little naughty: Ritz as it should be?

Leslie Oliver, Director of Sales at the Ritz-Carlton Palm Beach meets us in the marble lobby of the Four Seasons.

We say goodbye to Carolina. The bell boys gently place our bags in the back of the Ritz Escalade.

I sit shotgun. Leslie is behind the wheel. Five minutes later we pulled into the port cochere of a Grey Poupon colored resort with a red-tiled roof.

Leslie turns left and up a slight incline to the hotel. "The Ritz-Carlton was built in 1992. We just completed an $80,000,000 renovation of the public areas and guestrooms."

"Oh, good! You must have gotten rid of those old Ritz Chandeliers. It seems like every Ritz has those old ice princess. . ." Leslie cuts me off.

"We still have the chandeliers," laugh. "But you'll see that we've found creative solutions for some of them."

We walk past registration into an expansive living room set up, complete with over-sized fireplaces, arm chairs and stiff couches. A few of the chandeliers are covered in wine-ish, brownish drums. Leslie explains how a major fireplace and wall were knocked out to clear sight lines. Guests can now view the pool and ocean from registration.

I can't imagine walking through here in board shorts.

We move onto the meeting areas. They feel like a powdered wig at Versailles. 18th Century Spanish paintings, consisting mostly of portraits, abound.

"Back when Ritz-Carlton first started we had a full-time art procurement team in our New York City office. They spent untold millions collecting art from all over the world." We walk back into the hallway. Complicit with our unspoken feelings that the meeting rooms could do with a refurb, Leslie smiles and directs our attention to the floor coverings. "This is what we call our Chinese vase motif carpet."

We walk past the pool and outdoor areas. We tour guestrooms. Of note are bathtubs in the standard suites and the night-club inspired his and hers connecting presidentials. All rooms have views of the ocean.

We save the Fitness Center and Eau Spa for last. Leslie's face breaks into a mischievous grin as we enter. This is a different world. It's London flirtatious. Its that unmistakable UK melange of cherry-red nails, faux biker leather, and India ashram fashion. I pick up a coffee-table book featuring vintage photographs of odd shaped Victorian-clad bottoms.

I meet Adam, one of the spa attendants. He is wearing a black tee, gold chain, and slacks. I ask where he's from. He looks out of place, and way too macho.

"I'm from the the Jersey Shore."

We tour the change rooms, the steam room and sauna, and up a few stairs to the biggest hot tub I've ever seen. In the center of the tub is a rain storm courtesy of a giant shower head. Two over-sized rubber duckies perch on one edge. Bobble head dolls of English pop stars watch silently from a curio.

I want to drop 'em and jump in, bad.

But we still haven't seen the tranquility garden, or the treatment rooms, or the treatment suites, or, or, or . .

- - -

Leslie hugs us goodbye and hands us lunches in blue, insulated Ritz-Carlton totes.  Our limo from the Ritz-Carlton Key Biscayne awaits. The valet opens my door.

I turn to Leslie before getting in. "That was a bit cheeky taking us to the spa last. I can't remember anything else! I'll be back."

It's that good.

A Cookie in Ft Lauderdale

"Each Ritz Carlton Resort has its own signography. Ours is the Endless Wonder of Water."

I roll my eyes. 

Adam Marcy, Senior Sales Manager of the Ritz Carlton Ft Lauderdale, gestures towards a large mural above the bar in the Via Luna Lounge. At first glance it seems only to be a large wave at sunset.

"If you focus on the crest you will see more than just a wave. . ."

Connie and I squint for a few seconds. Connie: "Oh yeah, horses!" Me: "Huh?" I finally see them.

There's a scene in one of the Lord of the Rings movies where some elvin magic causes a river to charge down a gulch in the shape of magic water horses. The aqueous equines block Orcs or some other evil from devouring Tolkein's clan of vulnerable do-gooders.

I wonder if Peter Jackson's effect guys stayed here. 

I'm jet lagged from a red eye flight from Salt Lake. This morning, when I landed, I took a taxi in to town to meet Connie on a tour of the Ritz Carlton before boarding the Allure of the Seas. 

We tour guestrooms. The standard rooms are huge, blond woody, blue and green ocean glass accented,  with views of the canals of Ft. Lauderdale or the Atlantic. There is a surprising amount of meeting space.

"Ft Lauderdale is known as the Venice of North America." Adam pushes the chiffon curtain aside. "I much prefer the views of the canals and city to those of the ocean. At night the ocean is black; but he city is full of lights and color."

The Ritz Ft Lauderdale was opened as a St. Regis in 2007. For whatever reason the Reg backed out and Ritz Carlton now manages the property.  I ask if there were any changes when the Ritz took over. Apparently, there were not. The ballrooms still carry the St Regis name plates of "John Jacob Astor Ballroom," and the "Astor Boardroom." It's a detail I have a hard time forgetting.

At the end of our tour Adam points to three glass and silver water coolers in the lounge: "As a continuation of our Endless Wonder of Water signography we have lemon, berry, and ginger infused water for our guests. Would you like to try one?"

I ask Adam how to spell "signography." I'm not sure if he ignores me or thinks I am talking to Connie. I get the idea he is uncomfortable with the subject. We shake hands. He gives me a sales packet.

I choose berry. Connie tries the lemon. We say goodbye and then buy a juice and a cookie in the lobby shop before ordering a taxi. I ask the cashier if he has heard of the word, or if he knows the Endless Wonder of Water thing.

He cracks a joke. And then in true Ritz fashion: "I'm not sure, but it would be my pleasure to find out for you."

Your Mother Has Really Great Party Space

Hotel Geek Hawaii Winner: Best Meeting and Outdoor Function Space

"There's just something nice about a 'U' shaped hotel." Connie opened the balcony door of the presidential and leaned against the railing. "The pool's right there in the center. You always know where the action is."

Roy, a Hawaii resident by way of Indonesia, Amsterdam, and Oklahoma (the Lutherans were involved somehow), met us for french toast and papaya followed by a site inspection of the Fairmont Orchid.

The Orchid is an old franchise Ritz Carlton hotel, converted to a Fairmont, and so much less corporate. Here, I get the feeling of being a guest in a home of recently-wed friends. They've decided to buy an old place and gradually convert it, with savings they put away each month, into house of their dreams. You know, that couple.

The yellow carpet off the lobby is a tad Taco Bell. Why are there Venetian glass chandeliers in the elevators? What's with the automatic doors to the guest wings that silence birds as they vroomswooshthud? Its a hodge-podge, but comfortable and not in a hurry to look "on-brand."

Every time I get into my black and white marble shower I start singing "Are you going to the Hukilau? to the Huki, Huki, Huki, Huki, Hukilau?. . ." When I exit, I forget about it. But when I get back in and turn the nickle-plated handle, without exception it comes back. The bathroom is Puccini. But I sing the Hukilau.

At one point Roy mentions the hotel's plans to put credenzas in all the guestrooms. I don't know what that is.

"Can we see it?"

It turns out there is only one prototype on a restricted-access floor. He doesn't have a key.

Off script now, Roy springs into action.We rush down stairs and across the golf-cut lawn. "That's why we have it. Its here for guests to walk on! . . ." Through a corridor, up a service elevator, a plea to housekeeping, and we're in. The credenza is nice. Its the thing the TV goes on with drawers. Its a bit Canadian Chateau, but warmer than the existing furniture. "We'll start with these, get rid of the armoire, and introduce furniture as it comes along."

When St Peters Cathedral was built, the popes and architects set forth to one up all the past architectural glories of Rome. The combined efforts of the renaissance geniuses Bramante, Michaelangelo and Maderno ended up creating a building that made you feel like a pissed on ant.

Times changed. Other religious options opened up. Now a centuries-old work in progress, Bernini designed two arching colonnades, reaching out from the massiveness, said to symbolize welcoming arms drawing guests inward. The result is divine.

In the lobby now, Roy, back in sales mode, hands us a packet of brochures and hotel diagrams. "There's so much more to show you. But you'll see the Coconut Grove at tonight's party. And besides, you said you had a nap on the beach yesterday." We shake hands, and look out at the breezy lounge, pool, gardens, and beach, all cozily embraced by the hotel's north and south wings.

Like a tourist, I snap a photo, turn, and hurry onto a bus headed to business exchange meetings down the road at the Marriott. I'm glad this is where I shower.

The Reign of Ritz

Hotel Geek Winner: Best Maui Resort

The Kapalua side of Maui greeted us with a misty rain storm. "If you can see the sun through the crowds, it won't last long," our driver advised. I had been warned about the rain. But even so, I was excited to luxuriate in a Ritz bed at the Ritz Carlton Kapalua, while not expecting much from the hotel itself.

I love Ritz Carlton beds. The Ritz Carlton Grand Lakes Orlando was my first time in one, in October 2006, followed by The Ritz Carlton Grand Cayman in June of 2008, and The Ritz Carlton Laguna Nigel in August of 2009. I mention the dates because spending the night in one of these beauties is an event all unto itself.

While the beds at Ritz hotels are consistently amazing, the hotels can be somewhat of a snooze. Kenji, the sales manager at Kapalua, explained that when Marriott International acquired the brand from 1996-2000, it went through a huge expansion phase requiring its franchisees to build essentially the same hotel, with the same "Grandma Luxury" (my phrase) aesthetic, all over the world.

Back then, it was all about brand consistency and identity. When they first opened, travelers were wowed by the same variegated black and white marble and Bulgari product in every Ritz bathroom. But it soon got old. If you're spending so much money on a room, the revised logic goes, why would you want your experience in Hawaii to be exactly the same as your experience in Atlanta? And since about 2004 Ritz hotels have been scrambling to focus on the culture and flavor of each destination to varying degrees of success.

Enter Marc McDowell, executive sous chef at the Ritz Kapalua. While touring the grounds, Kenji referenced an event held in the resort's kitchen garden. I geek out about all the farm to table sustainability crap going around these days, so we detoured towards a grassy spot behind the tennis courts where we could see a chef dressed all in white, rummaging around in a modest-size grow box garden.

"I did the math," Marc explained while picking tomatoes and eggplant, "and we were spending over $30,000 dollars a year on fresh herbs." He pointed to the lavender, lemon grass, thyme, and mint. "Today there is no cost to the hotel except my time, and I'm able to grow most of the fresh vegetables for our Banyan Tree restaurant."

I imagined throwing a seed on the ground, leaving it to the rich soil and frequent rain, and harvesting sans effort two months later.

"But this is nothing. When I install our aquaponics garden where those two tennis courts now are. . ." We acknowledge with nodding heads, "I'll be able to grow all the vegetables we will ever need. It's incredible. . ." He looked up from picking, tomatoes in hand, "we'll be able grow baby lettuce in 15 days."

I'm a little hazy on the details, but an aquaponics garden involves a tank of Tilapia, some kind of irrigation system to circulate the tank water to the plants, as well as trays or beds for the plants to grow in. While working at Kapalua, Marc has graduated from a master gardeners program offered by the University of Hawaii and studied under aquaponics experts on the Big Island.

This is a man who has clearly found his passion in life. We left Marc to his harvesting. As we turned to leave he said, "If the resort won't let me take over the tennis courts, I'll leave, start my own garden, and become their supplier!"

After the site inspection, we sat in the Kai Sushi Bar looking out at the wavering pool lights and down to the black ocean. Kenji rattled away with the Chef in Japanese, asking him to bring the best and freshest whatever. "This restaurant used to be one of the Ritz Carlton Libraries. Can you imagine being shut up in a Library with all of this?" The lobby, originally an enclosed box, was knocked out at both ends, and remodeled in Koa wood, and relaxed Island-themed furniture.

The original hotel plans called for the massive structure to be built right on the beach front. However, early excavations uncovered a burial ground, and lawsuits ensued. "There was a well-organized local group opposed to the project." Kenji explained between miso slurps. "And when it was all sorted out, the General Manager was so impressed that he hired the opposition leader as the resort's Cultural Adviser. Much of what you see today is a result of their work together."

Plans for the hotel were changed. It was moved back and built at the brow of a hill with a meandering path down to a secluded beach. It's sublime. There's an unmistakable sense of place. One night was not enough.