Earn elite qualifying miles on Delta with Hilton stays

by Grant Martin on

It’s pretty common in the travel world to see alliances between airlines and hotels when it comes to earning miles and points; a few points exchanged here and there among giants is an easy way to keep brand loyalty and momentum among the masses.

Normal earnings, however, are almost always limited to redeemable miles — that is, mileage earned won’t count towards elite status or any tiered thresholds that the airline or hotel measures you against over the course of the year.

With this new promotion between Delta and Hilton, however, that’s different. Now, any stay at a Hilton property will earn the traveler upwards of 1000 Elite Qualifying Miles (EQM), which means that you can earn part of your elite status on Delta without even flying. While these miles are only limited to 10k over the promotion period, this could be a good way to top up a few extra miles to reach 25k or 50k miles before year’s end — and you can do it without suffering the loss of leg room.

Sign up for the promo over at Hilton and don’t forget to make Delta your earnings partner.

[via Gary at View from the Wing]

Like Cheapflights, get $50 in airfare credit

by Grant Martin on

Interested in selling your Facebook soul for $50 off of your next flight? I am! The marketing folks over at Cheapflights and Vayama launched a campaign soliciting “likes” and shares late last month, in an effort to spread the word about their fare booking site across the web.

All that you have to do to earn $50 worth of credit redeemable from September 8 through October 5 is navigate over to their Facebook page, like the promotion and share it with your friends.

For the increased exposure that they get on the web, you’ll receive a $50 credit towards any purchased flight through the month of September — and from what we can tell, that applies to any flight that they pull up through their GDS.

This means that straight off the shelf, that $200 fare from Chicago to New York that you buy on American Airlines should be $150 after applying this voucher. Not bad for a small slice of your Facebook feed.

Who says money can’t buy friends?

[photo via Egil Fujikawa Nes on flickr]

Hotel booking tips: 5 things you need to know before reserving group rates

by Amy Chen on

While in Los Angeles for my brother’s wedding, I was looking forward to staying at the Westlake Village Inn. But unfortunately, things went downhill even before we could check in.

Though the wedding itself was held off-site at a country club, a block of rooms were reserved at a discounted rate. With the group rate, I decided to treat myself to a suite with a king-size bed and gas fireplace (a little out of place in sunny L.A. but charming nonetheless).

But as I learned, hotels that cater to weddings and other special events can sometimes be under-staffed, leading guests who are not part of the event to fall through the cracks.

Here are 5 things you should know before reserving a group rate, which isn’t necessarily the best deal.

1. Your room might not be ready at check-in. Plan accordingly.

My family arrived promptly at check-in, which was at 3 p.m. The wedding rehearsal started at 5 p.m. at an off-site location. My family disbanded to shower and change, but my room wasn’t ready. So I left my cell phone number with the front desk so someone could notify me as soon as it was. I killed some time at one of the hotel bars, but an hour later, it was clear that the front desk wasn’t going to call.

While walking back to the lobby, I called the front desk, was put on hold, and then informed that my room was ready. By then I was already standing outside the lobby. But somehow during the few minutes when I hung up the phone and appeared again at the front desk, I was then told that my room still wasn’t ready. Sloppy service, but not a big deal, right?

After sorting out the confusion, I asked the front-desk manager what caused the delay. She told me that the hotel was fully booked the previous night and that “housekeeping just didn’t make it.” Hmm. You’d think that a hotel that caters to large wedding parties would anticipate the demand and be prepared with all hands on deck.

2. Group rates may equal inadequate service.

Under any other circumstances, these are minor inconveniences at best, but when you’re trying to get ready for a special event, you really do need the hotel to fulfill its end of the bargain. Or you may need to lower your standards.

After receiving my room key, I asked what the hotel typically offered guests whose rooms were not ready by check-in. Rather than apologizing for not having the room ready, the front-desk manager asked rather snottily: “What do you want? A bottle of wine or something?”

After I responded that I would accept anything that the hotel typically offers, she handed me one drink coupon even though there were two people staying in the room. I accepted the voucher, but didn’t end up redeeming it because we had already wasted an hour at the bar.

By the time I brought my luggage to the room, it was 4:15 p.m. — no time to shower. I threw on a dress, changed my shoes, and left the hotel annoyed but more concerned about not being late.

3. Housekeeping may not have time to clean your room.

The next day, I went for a morning swim and out for lunch. I returned to my room around 2 p.m. only to find that housekeeping hadn’t arrived yet. After two phone calls to the front desk to request more towels so I could actually shower before the ceremony, a hotel employee knocked on my door — 30 minutes later. By then, I’d already gone into the hallway to find someone who could give me towels. In those 30 minutes, it would’ve been faster for me to fetch spare towels from the pool — or to drive to the nearby mall and buy myself a new set.

After contacting Westlake Village Inn’s general manager after my underwhelming stay, I was told that a reasonable time to expect fresh towels was 15 minutes after the initial request. During any other visit, the slow service would’ve been mildly irritating. In my case, the sloppy service was interfering with my plans. I needed to drive to the wedding site by 4 p.m. Had I waited for housekeeping to arrive, I would’ve been late. Want fresh towels? You might have to get them yourself.

4. If you’re looking for great service, call ahead and ask if any large groups, conventions, or special events are scheduled during your hotel stay.

If you’re on a tight schedule, you may need to factor in some buffer time — or pick another hotel that can accommodate your schedule.

During my stays on a Friday and Saturday night, there were three on-site weddings each day. That’s a lot. It turns out that the Westlake Village Inn hosts about 200 weddings per year. I can see why the hotel is so popular; the grounds are lovely.

But as a guest who wasn’t part of the on-site wedding festivities, my simple requests sunk to the bottom of the heap. Is it really too much to expect that my room is ready by the stated check-in time or that I have clean towels in the room?

5. Don’t assume the group rate is the best deal.

If I’d known in advance just how under-staffed the Westlake Village Inn was going to be, I would’ve booked the Four Seasons Hotel Westlake Village, where my brother had also reserved a block of rooms.

Or maybe I should’ve listened to my sister: She went to Priceline and successfully bid on a $62 room at the simple but pleasant Renaissance hotel about a 5-minute drive away — that’s about one-third of the price that I paid for my hotel, and with much better service, too.

Vietnamese street food tastes better by motorbike

by Laurel Miller on

There are few things I enjoy more than perching on a plastic, Playskool-size stool on a steaming sidewalk, surrounded by clouds of carbon monoxide. Why do I so enjoy impersonating a contortionist and inhaling carcinogens? Because it means I’m somewhere in Southeast Asia, eating street food.

On my first visit to Vietnam, I flew up to Nha Trang, on the South Central Coast. I found a cheap hotel several blocks off the beach, and set about giving myself a crash course in Vietnamese street food. I was familiar with staples such as pho and banh mi (baguette sandwiches with pork pate and a variety of condiments). Yet I was soon overwhelmed by the array of comestibles being hawked from carts and storefronts, despite frequent thumbing through my Vietnamese food guide.

Compounding the issue was the lack of recognizability of many of the ingredients. No one could ever accuse me of being squeamish, but I like to know what I’m eating, if only for curiosity’s sake. The mysterious, meaty hunks stewing in battered, aluminum stockpots, and hanging behind Plexi-glass shields gave no indication as to their origin. Clearly, I needed someone to help me achieve Vietnamese street food cred.

%Gallery-100653%I had already planned to visit the Evason Ana Mandara & Six Senses Spa later in the week, because they had a well-regarded “street market dinner.” Since 2003, a gaggle of local women–all food vendors known for their version of a specific dish–prepare their respective specialties at one of the property’s three restaurants. It’s a fun way to educate less-adventurous guests about traditional Vietnamese cuisine. The bi-weekly dinners provide steady income for the women and their families, which is critical during inclement weather.

The privately-owned Evason-Soneva luxury property group has a core philosophy of green building design and operations, and emphasizes the hiring of local people in order to support the economy. They also make donations of revenue proceeds to community social projects, including education and health care for children.

Much of the produce and botanicals used in the restaurants and spa treatments are from the sustainable gardens at nearby (stunning) sister property, Six Senses Hideaway at Ninh Van Bay. Ana Mandara also offers market tours and cooking classes as a way to introduce guests to regional Vietnamese cuisine and ingredients.

When I finally checked in to Ana Mandara, I asked if they offered personalized food tours through one of the local guides they contract. And that’s how I found myself on the back of a motorbike at sunset, whizzing through the back streets on my very own tasting tour of Nha Trang.

My 29-year old guide, Nguyen Quoc Nam, was born and raised in Nha Trang. He took me to some of the city’s best spots for eating regional dishes–most of them popular street foods. Our first stop was the poetically-named, sidewalk eatery Phúc, which specializes in banh canh, a fish and rice vermicelli soup. The rickety sidewalk tables were crowded with patrons enthusiastically slurping soup and fried mackerel head–the other specialty of the house.

Like most Vietnamese, Nam is obsessed with food. Throughout our three-hour feeding frenzy, he gave me the history, preparation method, and eating technique for every dish we sampled. We ate banh beo, “leaves” of rice noodles topped with succulent grilled pork, herbs, and chile; sinh to, fresh fruit and yogurt shakes; banh xeo, lacy rice flour, coconut milk, and turmeric crepes stuffed with grilled squid, shrimp, quail egg, and bean sprouts, and chao tom, grilled, seasoned, ground shrimp on sugar cane skewers.

At lively Quan 52, the sidewalk tables were wreathed in aromatic smoke from an adjacent grill. We were served a plate of still-sizzling strips of pork, which we used to make nem, a kind of DIY spring roll. We soaked crisp rice paper sheets in water, then layered them with the meat, nuoc nam, julienned cucumber and green banana, pickled shallots, rau hung (spearmint), diếp cá (fish mint), and ngo gai (saw leaf herb). I was utterly hopeless at constructing the tidy little packages made by fellow diners; even Nam seemed amazed by my lack of fine motor skills. Fortunately, my appetite compensates in these situations.

Our final stop was Pho Bo 81. Despite being painfully full, I managed to devour their heavenly pho (traditionally a beef noodle soup from Hanoi, it’s a staple throughout Vietnam and can also be made with chicken). The restorative broth was greaseless and fragrant, redolent of lime, chile, and star anise.

The next morning, Nam took me on a motorbike tour of the villages and rice paddies in the surrounding countryside. Rice is more than just the staple of Vietnamese cuisine, although it is eaten at every meal in some form. Rice is also intricately linked to the country’s culture, folklore, festivals, and social mores. Around noon, Nam pulled the bike up to a roadside shack beside the Cau Lung Bridge. There, we ate plate after plate of banh uot, a Nha Trang specialty of steamed rice noodle sheets, garnished with powdered dried shrimp and scallions.

After lunch, we visited Dien Thuy village, where I helped make rice paper at the home of a woman who supplies the local community. She soaked, then milled the rice by hand, Next, she mixed it with water to make a batter, and poured frisbee-sized circles onto a bamboo and cloth steamer fueled by the rice husks. The disks were then set to dry on woven bamboo ladders.

Next, we visited the Vinh family, who operate a small rice noodle factory out of their home. Outside of the major cities, rice paper and noodles are made in similar factories, often by hand (the Vinh’s had just purchased a machine to cut the noodles). It’s repetitive, exhausting, time-consuming work. My two-day motorbike journey took me into the origins of not just my beloved street food, but the very soul of Vietnamese culture.

Ana Mandara’s culinary motorbike tours are approximately $40.00, and are offered only by personal request. Cooking classes and market tours also available.

Click here to learn how to make banh cuon (steamed rice crepes with ground pork and mushrooms).

New York City restaurant grades: would you eat at a place with mice?

by Amy Chen on

I was in the East Village last night and encountered my first sighting of New York’s new restaurant grading system.

Starting last month, every New York City restaurant is now required to post a letter grade that corresponds to its health-inspection score. (Los Angeles has already successfully implemented the system.)

Based on the new system, a restaurant is awarded an A for scores between 0-13, a B for 14-27, and a C for 28 and higher. (Each health-code violation earns a certain number of points, so lower scores equal fewer violations.) Though all signs must be posted in a place that’s visible to people walking by, I found that the Department of Health also has a handy online tool that lets you look up restaurants by name.

So I started inputting a few of my favorite restaurants, and my stomach started turning when I saw the history of violations, including “evidence of mice or live mice present in facility’s food and/or non-food areas.” Surprisingly, some of the affordable restaurants that I searched for did better than the fine-dining type of places. Though many of the restaurant inspections in my search were completed as recently as in May, most of the corresponding letter grades haven’t yet been posted so you can only see recent health-code violations.

Perhaps it’s better not to think about it, but I have the feeling that I’ll be periodically checking up on my favorite places as the final letter grades are awarded and publicly posted. Otherwise, I’m going to have to finally learn how to cook.

Of course, this makes me wonder if health-code violations will just become relative: If I really love a restaurant but it only gets a B, does that mean that I should find a new favorite? Or will B become the new standard?

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[Photo by Amy Chen]