Hotel Food & Beverage Trends: What’s Hot, What’s Not And What’s Coming

by McLean Robbins on

As part of the “Birth of a Hotel” series, we’re exploring these major trends in hospitality food and beverage concepts. From small plates to seasonal cuisine, we look at what’s driving guests – and locals – to visit their local hotel for dinner, drinks, and every meal in-between.

“Today, everyone is a little bit more educated about food,” says Jeff McInnis, the James Beard Award-winning chef and owner of Miami’s Yardbird restaurant. “I think that’s a good thing … America is definitely stepping in the right direction.”

As home pantries evolve, so must hotel restaurants. No longer are guests satisfied with a standard dining room. The restaurant must be a reflection of the hotel’s location, ambiance, and, ideally, have unique selling points all its own to draw in local guests.

“We are 100% targeting the local market,” says Guy Rigby, vice president of food and beverage for Four Seasons, Americas. “If we get the local market, the hotel guests dine there.”

Satisfying the “Foodie” Palate without Pretension

But just what lures in the local guest? A great meal … but what makes a “great meal” is inherently subjective and constantly evolving.

One thing’s for sure: easier access to what would formerly be restaurant-only foods means that hotels are required to cater to a savvier consumer.

“You can eat caviar on the couch in your underwear watching football if you want to … and that’s great,” says Jacqueline Sainsbury, managing editor of Food Arts magazine.

But that doesn’t mean that great food needs to be haute cuisine. The great escoffiers and high dining concepts of the 1960s aren’t currently en vogue.

Playing with “street food” or “comfort food” and elevating it to a higher level is currently in favor at both hotel restaurants and the food industry in general, with chefs like José Andrés launching a food truck in addition to fine dining restaurants like The Bazaar in Los Angeles and Miami’s SLS hotels.

“We’re not trying to elevate [your food],” says Top Chef Season 5 contestant McInnis, who has worked for Orient Express’ Keswick Hall as well as Ritz-Carlton resorts around the globe.

“We’re trying to do the best damn fried chicken you’ve ever had.”Celebrity Street Cred

Of course, it’s easier to sell a simple concept like fried chicken when you have a James Beard award or a “Top Chef” credit to your name. Hotels, particularly in the luxury market, have capitalized on this trend of drawing in celebrity chefs.

Yvon Ross, director of special events for the James Beard Foundation, says that in recent years she’s seen an explosion of interest from the “non-industry” community in these acclaimed chefs and their cooking – whether they’re making fried chicken, simple meatballs, or working with molecular gastronomy to prepare a fine dining meal.

But how does this trend translate to the hotel restaurant? Rigby says that many of his hotels have celebrity chefs, including Daniel Boulud in the new Four Seasons Toronto and Michael Mina in D.C. and Baltimore. Rigby isn’t sure that star power will be the norm, but rather a strategic decision when the partnership makes sense both for location and for the hotel’s ownership group.

Still, hotels are pushing hard to differentiate their food and beverage outlets from the property themselves, often utilizing separate design teams to create unique concepts and utilizing exterior entrances to make restaurants more accessible to the public.

Locavore Dining
In recent years, drawing on the “local” angle has become increasingly important for all restaurants, including those in the hospitality space.

Hotels like the “Birth of a Hotel” feature property Capella Washington, D.C., Georgetown are attempting to source as many items as possible from local farms, as well as to engage craft breweries, distilleries, bakers, coffee roasters and more to partner with the hotel to enhance food and beverage options.

Still other hotels have turned to apiaries, beehives and on-site herb gardens to grow their own ingredients, and many resorts are even “catering” to guests by offering cooking classes to help teach them how to prepare restaurant-quality food at home. Capella Washington’s sister property, Capella Pedregal in Cabo San Lucas, offers such classes in a restaurant-quality kitchen for day-long or multi-day cooking class series.

Ingredient-Driven Conscious Consumption
As America develops an increasing pre-occupation with dietary restrictions like gluten-free, and low-carb diets as a way to combat expanding waistlines, so too must dining out evolve. No longer are hotel restaurant menus always full of “splurge items” for that special occasion visitor.

In addition to more careful food sourcing, in part inspired by the local food movement, hotels are also introducing menus that cater to both the calorie and the ingredient conscious. Sofitel Hotels and Resorts in North America have done this through the introduction of their De-Light Program, which offers low-calorie but high-nutrient menu items prepared with fresh, seasonal ingredients.

Gabriela Navejas, vice president of marketing and communications for Sofitel, says that the menus, launched in early 2012, were originally supposed to be a one-time event but have become an ongoing offer due to their overwhelming popularity. Today, the De-Light program is offered in all North American restaurants and in-room dining menus, as well as extended to become “Delight Breaks” for meeting groups as part of the hotels’ catering programs.
Wherever possible, hotels use herbs and vegetables grown onsite for added local flavor. Sofitel is currently working to roll this program out to all of their properties worldwide.

“It’s about health,” says Navejas. “With people having more access to information, it’s really about a lifestyle. [Guests are] more demanding, they have more knowledge [about food] but they want to enjoy their meals and the experience.”

Grab n’ Go Goes Social

Hotels have worked to craft that “experience” in all aspects of dining, from sit-down restaurants to coffee shops and in-lobby bars and social spaces.

Hospitality brokerage owner Steven Kamali of Steven Kamali Hospitality says that the hotel lobby “has become the epicenter of our social world,” a social space where guests and local business people, traditionally in big cities, can gather for meetings that bleed into play when work extends well beyond the typical 9 to 5.

He points to Starwood’s W Hotels as well as boutique properties like New York City’s Ace and Marc hotels for their success in this “lobby as a social space” concept. Here, you’ll see a typical hotel bar transformed into a destination for locals and guests alike, a place where one can grab more than a sub-par sandwich and instead enjoy a gourmet burger or an organic chicken breast and craft cocktail.

Hyatt brand Andaz brings the social lobby concept to a new level, offering communal tables where guests can relax and unwind, and front desk staff that offer wine, tea, coffee or soda upon check-in.

Kimpton Hotels embraces this trend as well, offering nightly “Wine Down” happy hours with complimentary beverages at many of their properties.

Capella offers a similar concept, with daily snack and soft drinks available in the hotel’s lobby “Living Room,” a guest-only space where the hotel’s on-staff personal assistants wait on attending guests.

Better Beverages

Speaking of bars, the beverage movement has certainly evolved past the perfect dirty martini or great glass of wine. Hotels are rivaling with the industry’s best restaurants to produce creative cocktail and beverage menus.

“There’s a huge trend towards mixology,” says Rigby, who speaks of the farm-to-table concept as it makes it way towards farm-to-bar, with chefs and cocktail specialists whipping up house-made juices and sodas.

Restaurants are also looking beyond wine, although the concept of having a well-educated sommelier and robust wine list won’t be leaving anytime soon.

“Beer is having an enormous resurgence,” Ribgy says, musing that hotels and resorts are seeking out craft beers to both round out a locally focused set of beverage offerings and to make menus more accessible to guests.

Similarly, many properties have focused their menu around specific spirits, pairing menus with cocktails rather than the more traditional beer and wine.

Beyond The Trends
But which of these trends will stay and which are simply a flash in the pain? Sainsbury points to a time last year when she found all restaurants suddenly obsessed with Neopolitan pizzas, and many can recall the nation’s current obsession with cupcakes.

“People do want to feel challenged [by new cooking techniques and cuisines], but a lot of times they just want to feel comfortable and know they’re being fed extremely well,” says Rigby. “I don’t mind [embracing trends], I just want to make sure we do them exceptionally well and that we also have the service component right.”

Experts seem to believe that while no one food or restaurant concept will reign supreme in years to come, concepts like farm-to-fork cuisine and the use of high-quality ingredients will only continue to grow in popularity, exceeding “trend” status and becoming an expectation, if they haven’t already.

And, in the words of Ross: “I just hope people will enjoy the food and stop Twittering about it as they’re eating.”

Amen.

[Image Credit: The Bazaar Miami]

Video Of The Day: A Taste Of Vietnam

by Elizabeth Seward on

“A Taste of Vietnam” from The Perennial Plate on Vimeo.

For some upbeat and inspiring footage of Vietnam, watch this video. With an emphasis on the food of Vietnam, this video pairs creative music with professionally shot and edited film. This video is just one of many impressive videos from the folks at The Perennial Plate. Daniel Klein and Mirra Fine, the makers of this video, have a knack for capturing the entire culture of a place while still focusing on the food at large. Maybe it’s because food is such an important part of our identity; maybe it’s because food is such an important part of travel. No matter the cause, this video is gorgeous. And now I want to spend some time eating in Vietnam.

A Family Night Out In Baghdad

by Sean McLachlan on


After a long road trip around Iraq, I find myself back in Baghdad. It’s our last night together as a group. For our final dinner we decide to eat a famous Baghdadi recipe at a famous landmark –mazgouf fish at Abu Nuwas Park.

Abu Nuwas park runs for one-and-a-half miles along the east bank of the Tigris in central Baghdad. It’s named after an early medieval poet who was half Arab and half Persian, and wrote poems in both languages. His poetry celebrated wine and sex and made fun of the Arab nostalgia for Bedouin life. This ensured trouble during his lifetime and fame after his death.

In keeping with the Abu Nuwas’ liberal tradition, the park that bears his name is a neutral ground for the city’s warring factions. Everyone comes here to relax, not fight. Of course there’s still the usual cordon of armed guards. Trust is in short supply in this country.

Once inside, though, it doesn’t feel like Baghdad at all. Families have picnics on blankets spread under trees. Kids do cartwheels on the grass. The Tigris glitters with reflected streetlights. A fountain at the edge of the riverbank shoots up water as colored lamps make the jets pulse red and purple. Music mixes with the calls of vendors selling nuts, candy, and Spongebob Squarepants balloons.

We’ve come to dine at one of the city’s most popular restaurants, Mazgouf, named after a large fish found in the Tigris that’s considered a delicacy. The fish is cut in half down its length and stuck on spike next to an open wood fire to slowly cook. When it’s done, it’s pulled off the spike and put on a plate. The scales and eyes on the outside are still preserved, making a sort of bowl from which to scoop out the goopy and incredibly rich insides. The restaurant at Abu Nuwas Park is said to be one of the best.

We find the restaurant and sit outside. As usual, the people at the next table come over and welcome us to Iraq. Mazgouf is made to order so there’s a long wait before we get our meal. Once it comes, everyone digs in with relish. I’m no expert on mazgouf but it’s the second-best meal I’ve had this entire trip. It’s so rich and heavy I can only finish half of it, although I’d love to eat the whole thing. The mood at the table is celebratory. We’ve made it through Iraq unscathed. Everyone is thinking of home but disappointed to be leaving.

While everyone else is leaving tomorrow morning and the guards will go off to other duties, my flight isn’t until the following morning, which means I get a whole day to myself in Baghdad. This worries me only slightly. My time in Iraq has taught me that the country is far safer than most people believe, and my hotel is in a good neighborhood. Besides, staying in the hotel all day simply isn’t an option. I just hope I don’t have any trouble when I go out alone.

After dinner we stroll around the park. The mood is relaxed and festive. So is the dress code. A woman walks by in a skirt and I almost keel over. It’s the first bare female leg I’ve seen in more than two weeks. Young couples who may very well be unmarried walk hand in hand, whispering to each other. I’ve stepped into another world. It’s even more relaxed than Kurdistan. Flashing lights and squeals of laughter draw me down a path and to another gate.

%Gallery-172598%It’s an amusement park. Kids are zipping around on bumper cars in the middle of a pool, or shooting down a giant inflatable slide. Their big brothers and sisters play videos games in a nearby arcade.

Getting in requires going through another checkpoint. There’s a brief hassle as the park’s guards demand that our guards leave their guns behind. Captain Ali, the senior of our two guards, doesn’t like that idea. I’m not sure how it’s resolved but we eventually get through, only to be stopped again.

“What now?” someone in our group groans.

“Photo! Photo!” the park guards say.

“Oh, OK.”

We all line up and take each other’s photos. I still haven’t figured out why Iraqis all want their photo taken. Only one of them has asked for a copy, and he never emailed me so I could send it to him. Maybe they just want to be part of my holiday memories. That’s cool. Memory made.

As soon as we’re through I ditch my guards. I don’t think those kids on the Merry-go-Round are going to shoot me, and after more than two weeks of these guys dogging my movements I’m sick of them. I slip behind some spinning ride with flashing lights and I’m gone.

Swarms of laughing children zip past me as I wander among the rides. I shake my head in amazement. How is this possible? This country is torn apart by war and sectarian bitterness and here everything is just fine. These families are the Iraqi majority, the decent folks who want all the bullshit to stop so they can get some enjoyment out of life. It would be silly to think they’re “just like us”; they’re not. But they’re enough like us that when this whole mess sorts itself out, I know who I want to come out on top.

“Mr. Sean.”

I turned around. Aw crap, Captain Ali has found me.

“We need to go now,” he says.

“Yeah, yeah.”

I turn away and keep walking. He trots patiently behind. This is a game he knows he’ll win.

Families come up to me, asking that I photograph their children or forcing their kids into impromptu English lessons. The kids take it with good grace, as curious as their parents about this strange foreigner who’s wandered into their fun.

Well, almost all the kids take it with good grace. One man drags his toddler over and urges her, “Say hello. Say hello.” She bursts into tears.

“Tired?” I ask.

He smiles and nods.

“Yes, tired. Late night.”

We laugh, one father to another.

Another tug at my arm. It’s Captain Ali again. Go away.

“Mr. Sean, we need to go.”

He leads me off, holding my wrist like a naughty child. I could complain, but he’s the law and even though he still has a reserve of good humor, his patience is at an end. We head for the exit.

Three bombs exploded in Baghdad this morning. More than a dozen killed. The story is already being broadcast by all the major news channels, with the usual blaring headlines and snuff film visuals. I take a last look around at Abu Nuwas park, at the picnicking families and the laughing children and the guys selling balloons. There are no TV cameras here.

Don’t miss the rest of my series, “Destination: Iraq,” chronicling my 17-day journey across this strife-ridden country in search of adventure, archaeology and AK-47s.

Coming up next: “A Solo Stroll Through Baghdad!”

[Photos by Sean McLachlan]

Dude, The Surf’s Always Up In San Diego’s North County

by Dave Seminara on

If you want a taste of quintessential California beach culture, complete with a heaping dose of surf, sand and tacos, head north of San Diego to North County. When I’m in Southern California, I don’t mind soaking up the cliché tourist experience: I want to be on the beach, gazing out at the limitless Pacific Ocean, watching the surfers, preferably with a taco or three in hand. Here’s an idea for how to spend a totally epic day in North County and La Jolla, dude.

Start the day at Pipes Café, a killer breakfast spot very close to the beach in Cardiff by the Sea. Step up the counter and order the #1 breakfast burrito ($5.95), which comes with sausage, avocado, cheese and, get this, five eggs. Five eggs for God’s sakes! When my bad boy arrived, the beast took up the entire basket (see photo) and I practically needed a forklift to get the damn thing up and into my mouth.


I’m a total glutton, but I couldn’t come close to finishing this frightening, but very tasty creature. I liked it so much that I couldn’t help but ask some locals sitting next to us about the feasibility of moving to the area with my wife and two little boys.

“Well, North County is really expensive,” said the guy who would have looked right at home in a J Crew catalog. “Basically, the closer you get to San Diego the more expensive it gets. Oceanside isn’t too bad, then Carlsbad, Encinitas and Solana Beach will be more expensive than that and things really get crazy in Del Mar and La Jolla.”

My hopes of moving to North County dashed, I knew we’d have to make the most of our visit, so we drove south along the Pacific Coast Highway, taking in peeks of the Pacific when it wasn’t hidden by large homes, shopping and hotels along the way.

I worked off about 5% of my ridiculous breakfast burrito with a short walk in Encinitas’s attractive little town center followed by a longer walk on the beach in Del Mar, a pristine beach community if ever there was one. I watched the surfers, who were out in force on a day when the waves were up to a gnarly 8 feet, and fantasized about winning the next Powerball drawing and moving to this fine place of soaring palm trees, trendy restaurants and stunning Pacific vistas.

Before I knew it, it was lunchtime and since I tend to follow an all taco & burrito diet when I’m in California, we backtracked north a couple miles to Rudy’s Taco Shop, a hole-in-the-wall place in a strip mall in Solana Beach that specializes in carne asada. I was ready for a siesta after scarfing down two of their salty, melt-in-your mouth carne asada tacos, but summoned the energy to press on south to La Jolla, which means “The Jewel” in Spanish.

La Jolla is filled with pricey shops, but we were in town to soak up the natural splendor of the place so we headed straight for the waterfront. I don’t think there are many more scenic places for a stroll anywhere in the country than the area around Scripps Park in La Jolla. There’s a long walkway set up high above the crashing waves of the Pacific below, flanked by neat rows of soaring palm trees.


We walked down to Seal Beach and my sons, ages 3 and 5, got a huge kick out of seeing dozens of seals lying comatose on the beach as though they were sleeping off hangovers. Every few minutes one of them would decide they wanted to change their spot and would hop around awkwardly as the assembled paparazzi fired off shots of them.


A local, who told me I was standing too close to the seals, also mentioned that the seals give birth right on this beach each year from January through March. After my kids had their fill of the seals, we walked a half-mile north to gawk at a colony of sea lions that were all huddled up on top of each other on a huge rock.

There’s been a huge controversy over the supposedly foul smell of bird crap in La Jolla, with many merchants claiming that the smell is scaring away customers, but I didn’t even really notice it other than for a brief moment when we pulled into town. Anyone who dwells on bird crap in a place this beautiful is a little jaded, if you ask me.

After a few hours wandering in La Jolla, we repaired to Bull Taco, a taco stand located up on a bluff above the Cardiff State Park beach that advertises itself as “inauthentic Mexican.” It only seemed fitting to wind down my culinary day the way I started it – with a tortilla in hand. This time, I had three tacos – shrimp curry, sea bass and a lobster, chorizo and bacon beauty. Inauthentic? Maybe, but damn good as well.

We drove further north and enjoyed an extravagant sunset at South Carlsbad State Park beach. On a late Saturday afternoon in December, the beach scene in North County was magical for a cold weather family like us.


Families were taking their Christmas card photos on the beach, no doubt to taunt their cold weather friends, surfers of all ages were emerging from the crashing surf, raving about the “epic” waves and people who drive posh sports cars happily mingled with surf bums living in beat up old camper vans with rusted old California plates. In the fading light, we beat a retreat, intoxicated from a day of Pacific delights, not ready to go home but determined to return one day to this idyllic little corner of America.

[Photo and video credits: Dave Seminara]

Vagabond Tales: In Search Of Placerville’s Apples And Outlaws

by Kyle Ellison on

When it comes to travel there are really only two forces that drive us to the destinations we visit.

Either we hear about them from somewhere else, or we stumble upon those we know nothing about.

In the case of the Nicaraguan rodeo, that was a stumble. For nearly anywhere else, however, either we have read about it in a book, learned about in school, watched a documentary about it on television, see it featured in a magazine, or heard from a friend that this place is amazing and you should go visit if you ever get a chance.

In the case of Placerville, California, however, I learned of it through somewhat of a unique channel … eavesdropping.

While working as crew on a sailboat in Hawaii, I once overheard the conversation of a visiting couple about their recent day spent in a place called Placerville.

“I don’t know about that place,” the rotund, slightly graying woman mentioned to her neighbor on the catamaran. “There was something eerie about it. It’s just so far removed from everything, and if I were a mass murderer on the run from the law that’s definitely where I would go. Placerville.”

For reasons unbeknownst to me, this conversation – which I wasn’t even a part of – stuck with me for the better part of a decade. I would see the name “Placerville” on a map and would immediately picture outlaws. Someone would mention the name Placerville and I would feel compelled to ask if they had seen any mass murderers.

Given this strange fascination, I was recently taken aback when my wife asked me if I wanted to go wine tasting and apple picking for the day.

“Sure”, I agreed. “Where are we going?”

“Placerville.”

%Gallery-171913%Now don’t get me wrong, the wine tasting in Placerville is a great reason to visit, but for some reason I was expecting to hang out in a town full of whiskey and gold as opposed to wine and apples. Something about the image of train robbers and prospectors sitting around a campfire sharing thinly sliced Fuji and decanting their zinfandel just doesn’t seem quite right.

Nevertheless, after driving an hour east from Sacramento into the brisk, autumn air of the Sierra Nevada foothills, something caught my eye that suggested a bit of lawlessness still permeated the town.

Right there on Main Street – an historic thoroughfare, which does indeed look like a Wild West throwback – was an effigy of some poor chap hanging from a noose for all the town to see. As I would come to find out, when gold was discovered in nearby Coloma in 1848, the area around Placerville would become ground zero for the California Gold Rush, and everyone from entrepreneurs to ne’er do wells set out West in the hope of striking it rich. For a short period of time, Placerville would actually become the third largest city in all of California.

None of which, however, explains why there is a dead man hanging from a noose smack in the middle of downtown.

As history has indicated, the West in the mid 1800s was somewhat of a lawless arena. Saloons and brothels were built upon the nugget-filled Earth and rough and tumble mountain-folk engaged in Darwinian survival. Despite the degree of lawlessness, however, occasionally criminals were still brought to justice.

And as it just so happens, the place where outlaws would meet their maker was right here in these foothills in an outpost known as Hangtown, their criminal corpses swinging from a tree, which once stood in the same place I find myself standing right now.

Turns out, from 1849-1854 the town of Placerville was officially known as “Hangtown,” due in large part to the copious amount of public hangings, which would take place right along Main Street. One Placerville legend speaks of some thieves who were tried in an impromptu, 30-minute trial and were hung within the hour.

Standing there across from the historic Cary House – a classic brick hotel built in 1857 where the elevator was purchased with a gold nugget found in the basement – I realized that this wasn’t just a place where outlaws went to hide, but this was also a place where outlaws went to die.

That was then, however, and this is now, and seeing as California did away with hanging in 1937, the town’s outlaw nature, it would seem, is something of the past.

While the gold rush history of Placerville is apparent (the hardware store is still proudly an authorized dealer of metal detectors), the main draw, I would find out, is exactly what we came here for in the first place: apples and wine.

Within a short driving distance from the historic downtown there are over 50 vineyards belonging to the El Dorado wine country, as well as over 55 ranchers who make up the Apple Hill Growers Association. The result of all the agricultural abundance is a day trip where you can spend hours meandering the simple backroads, casually sip on zinfandel and syrah, and shop through markets, which teem with fresh produce.

It’s about the most wholesome, least outlaw-laden environment imaginable.

So after half a decade of picturing a town overrun by Unabombers in hiding, I instead found a welcoming gold mining outpost with affable viticulturists and farmers. Granted, there is a hanging puppet swinging in the downtown corridor, but there is also a group of children in a pumpkin patch laughing as they climb a hay bale.

This, I suppose, is precisely the reason we travel; to either confirm the notions we hold of somewhere or dispel what myths we might have believed.

In the case of Placerville, I came to find hermits on the run from the law, and I left with a car full hot apple pies.

Want more travel stories? Read the rest of the “Vagabond Tales” over here.

[Photo Credits: Kyle Ellison]