So, are you BLU?

I am a grown-up. At least, I came to that conclusion a few weeks ago when I was watching television and saw a 40-ish woman being interviewed. First I thought, “Wow, she looks good for her age.” Then, I heard her age and thought, “That’s only a couple of years older than me.”

The realization set in.

I am a grown-up. Time for me to admit it. 

I had already realized I have very specific taste. I just hadn’t equated it to being a specific age. It just is what it is:

Yes, I am officially a grown-up.

As makes sense, when going on vacation, I want to go on a grown-up vacation. 

In other words, lying on a beach where spring break television is filmed is not enticing to me. I want to be comfortable (pampered, even), entertained, well fed, dressed up, dressed down, worked out, manicured, provided with many shopping options, educated about the places I visit, kneaded like dough, and pretty much left to do whatever it is I wish to do.

That is a vacation.

Fittingly, when I was approached with the option of taking a trip to St. Augustine, Florida, my first thought was of repulsion, just as the image of bikini bunnies and buff dudes bounced in my head, with crowded beach sand under their feet, loudly drunk revelers all around, and flea-bag waterfront motels looming cheaply in the background, along with boardwalk souvenir and “mix-and-match your swimsuit” shops.

But, one of St. Augustine’s tourism industry folks, Jay, insisted that St. Augustine is not the cliché that is very often Florida. 

He was right. I didn’t see even one plastic, pink flamingo. In fact, I cannot report seeing a single Recreational Vehicle in motion (although I am sure they were there, somewhere), nor a Speedo stretched to its death on a body about five sizes too big for it.

So, go back to your office, Jay. I have some exploring to do!

Decompression In the Old and New
Since September 1565, people have been landing and remaining in St. Augustine, establishing it as America’s oldest continually occupied European settlement. It was first inhabited by the Spaniards, then the English, the Spaniards again, followed by pre-Victorian Americans in 1821. Rarely is ownership of a possession so disputed, without having great appeal, beauty, and value. St. Augustine has all of those traits, whether in the eyes of a real estate owner, political leader, or vacationer.

Upon driving down King Street into the town of just over 12,000 full-time residents, one first notes St. Augustine’s architectural uniquity. Looming hotels, museums, educational institutions, places of worship and other facades are distinctly and grandly European, while residences of old are clearly settlement houses that once held practicality of survival high with the hopes and promise of the New World.

Present day museums echo both the grandeur and bare necessity of old, like two sides of a coin, as evidenced by the Lightner Museum on King Street – three floors of costumes, furnishings, Tiffany glass, and other artifacts of 19th century opulence, and St. Augustine Historical Society’s Oldest House and Museum – the Gonzalez-Alvarez House on Francis Street, a National Historic Landmark and the area’s oldest surviving Spanish colonial dwelling. 

Reminiscent of New Orleans and cobblestoned villages of the Old World are the housing districts. These quaint and endearing neighborhoods are ones in which you can stroll and sightsee unguided. In doing so, you pass current residents who have clearly dedicated themselves to preserving these treasured homes that quietly encase historical, cultural, and even warfare-surviving emotional significance that modern Americans rarely experience firsthand. These housekeepers live within that rich history every day, knowing only pieces of the full story the walls certainly could tell.

Political leaders, business owners and inhabitants of St. Augustine have done a superb job of maintaining the Spanish colony’s integrity, with an attention to (and love of) the details of period architecture and daily life. It is that which makes the town so quaintly appealing, in a way that larger cities of old, such as New Orleans, unfortunately have not. This is an attentively-manicured and pristinely-kept version of “Once Upon a Time,” without so many smells and creepy corners that might keep a tourist in their hotel room at night. 

In fact, it was while on a walk down St. George Street after a sumptuous dinner that I realized life in the big city has frayed my own nerves. I had eaten, then cancelled my limousine service back to my hotel, desiring to walk off both calories and metropolitan stress. I wound and turned down many streets, my heels clicking on the cobblestones, my mind fully engaged in a pure lack of thought, head clearing with fresh ocean air and evening breezes of mid-April, as I window shopped and made mental notes of places I would explore the next day. 

It was dark, about 11:00 p.m. As a truck slowly ambled past and the driver said, “Hello” from his window, I became suddenly aware that I had neither been instinctively watching my back, nor stressing over whether personal safety was at risk. Yes, this is a place where a solo traveler can explore in full peace. It is a place where decompression comes easily.

No Luxuries Spared
My gracious hotel was the Hilton on Avineda Menendez and the bayfront, just a short walk from the Castillo de San Marcos, one of the most historic attractions of the area. I know exactly what you’re thinking: “You’re in a history-laden village and you stay at an international chain hotel?” Why yes I did, and with zero regret! Well, no regret except that of sleeping alone in my giant, comfortable bed.

It was a superb choice, as this is not just any “branded” hotel. It is the smallest Hilton in the world, with only 72 rooms cozily contained within the Spanish Colonial façade of nineteen buildings. The hotel is adequately designed and constructed to fit well within surroundings dating back to the 17th century, yet with all of the modern comforts a somewhat spoiled traveler might desire. Most enjoyable was the lack of crowds in places such as the hotel workout room, a facility I enjoyed twice per day during my stay, as I could work out in solitude – something rarely enjoyed in a larger hotel or membership gym. I could have also enjoyed a solo dip in the pool that overlooks the bay, but I was so preoccupied with the sights of the town that I missed my opportunity.

Although the Hilton was well-suited for my wants and needs, if sumptuous luxury and pampering within the City Gates is your objective, the Casa Monica Hotel at the corner of King and Cordova Streets is historically suited to answer your every desire. Originally designed, built and opened by Bostonian Franklin W. Smith (founder of the YMCA) in 1888, Casa Monica was quickly sold to railroad pioneer and local magnate Henry Flagler, who renamed it The Hotel Cordova.

Now again under the regal name Casa Monica, one of the Kessler Collection of unique hotels, and a member of Preferred Resorts and Hotels Worldwide, Casa Monica is a Four-Diamond landmark offering exceptional comfort and world-class amenities. A boutique hotel with Spanish Moorish grand design and Victorian appointments of cobalt blue, deep red and gold, it resembles a European castle. The lobby showcases chandeliers, gilded furnishings, columns, arches, and a fountain. A penthouse view offering sweeping, panoramic views of the ocean, town, and bayfront entice one into the not-so-subtle upgrade.

Casa Monica boasts an outdoor swimming pool and hot tub on a 4,000 square-foot deck, a 164-seat fine dining restaurant (the award-winning 95 Cordova), Café Cordova with convenient and standard fare such as sandwiches, salads and soups, Starbucks Coffee, the Cobalt Lounge, 8,000 square feet of retail shops, valet parking, 24-hour fitness facility, and much more.

Colorful Cuisine, Cultured Flavor
I have to admit something very, very personal. That is that during my St. Augustine travel, I was in the middle of a very structured diet and my biggest fear was that of packing on the tons of pounds one accumulates when being enticed and treated on a typical grown-up vacation. Yes, I feared the cheesecake.

Knowing restaurants are a pivotal part of any getaway, and perhaps one of the greatest indulgences known to man, I could not ignore the significance of local cuisine. So, I did what any good travel writer does, and sucked it up (quite literally, “Hoovered,” if you will), allowing myself to partake as if I was unencumbered by guilt or calorie counts.

Oh, the struggle of it all. 

Once I hit the doors of Raintree Seafood & Steakhouse, an award-winning casual restaurant within an 1879 Victorian home, all signs of a struggle had disappeared. The staff of Raintree were approachable and friendly, atmosphere romantic – yet not intimidatingly romantic for the solo or platonic diners. 

Both the structure and owner Lorna MacDonald have their own unique, romantic stories to tell about how Raintree came into being. It is a story you should inquire about, while visiting and enjoying the delightful fare.

I started with 2004’s Australian Koonunga Hill Shiraz Cabernet and Smoked Salmon Crustini. Pesto, capers, onions, tomato, mozzarella, and caviar all intermingle and dance upon the crustini, an appropriate accompaniment to a delightful wine. Also offered are Bruschetta with Roasted Tomatoes; Baked Scallops on the ½ Shell with sake ginger vinaigrette; Spicy Seafood Roll served with spicy garlic aioli and a Mirin teriyaki glaze; Portobello Mushroom Stack of wilted spinach and Crab Imperial on a pepper lentil coulis; Maryland Style Lump Crab Cake with slaw and tropical fruit salsa; Baked Oysters topped with roasted red peppers, scallions, bacon, and parmesan cheese; Escargot Broiled with Champagne in garlic butter sauce with French bread Melbas; Quail Legs wrapped in bacon, served with barbecue sauce, and set on shoestring onions; or a soup of the day selection.

My salad of choice was the day’s arugula with raisins, pine nuts and low-fat raspberry vinaigrette. It led me well into one of the evening’s special entrees, that of Scallops, Shrimp, and Lobster on Bowtie Pasta in a Champagne Cream Sauce. Yes, I realize that a cream sauce is one of the most decadent selections I could make (forgetting the diet), but simply could not resist. I did make a special request that was very nicely honored: “Hold 75% of the pasta, please?”

When I took the first bite, I knew holding most of the pasta was a good idea, as I would have eaten every single bowtie. The champagne sauce was that brilliant – creamy, but not like an Alfredo. It was buttery, flavorful and indulgent, yet not heavy. Just enough sauce lingered upon each taste of seafood and pasta that the mouthful was well-dressed, never masked.

That brings me to the subject of the seafood: Every prawn, scallop, and lobster portion included in the entrée absolutely burst upon biting. I question if I have ever had such succulent seafood, but don’t tell anyone in New Orleans that I said that! There was actually a little “pop” as my teeth pierced the seafood’s surface. Have I not been adequately experiencing seafood until this meal? 

Other entrees from which to choose range from bouillabaisse, salmon, Ahi tuna, mahi-mahi, Chilean Sea Bass, Pecan Trout Meuniere, duck, shrimp, pork, chicken, lobster, prime rib, lamb, filets, sirloin, ribeye, and so much more. Vegetarian selections are also available, such as a wonderful Stuffed Eggplant with fresh vegetables, ricotta, mozzarella, balsamic reduction and red lentil puree.

Another famous staple in my native New Orleans is the Bananas Foster. I refuse to compare that to any other, so I will simply attest that the Bananas Foster Crepes dessert of Raintree beckons me back, right now…perhaps evermore. Will its lingering memory ever leave me in peace? Perhaps that is a question that can only be answered through another sampling.

My second evening found me at Opus 39 Restaurant & Food Gallery, a culinary destination founded by nationally acclaimed chef Michael McMillan, a graduate of the prestigious Culinary Institute of America. Within the unimposing yet artful structure of 39 Cordova Street is a meeting of quarterly-changing art exhibitions and a five course tasting menu, accompanied by a superbly and selectively stocked Wine Gallery, of over 400 selections.

Opus 39 is an experience, not simply a restaurant or meal. One should always arrive unencumbered by time and desiring the most from the full experience of upscale, innovatively designed daily menus. At a fixed price for the evening, each diner selects from a couple of offered plates for each course. This is done for five courses (including dessert), or six if you opt for the cheese course to be included prior to the sweet ending.

The meal begins very interestingly, with a walk to the wine room where Chef Michael provides insight and explorative assistance with the massive selection. I chose my longtime favorite, Silver Oak’s Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon, 2003. I do love the oak flavor of that particular cabernet and enjoy it immensely, every single time.

My first course was Almond Crusted Goat Cheese Salad with Organic Greens and Balsamic-Apricot Reduction. It was too delightful to call it a salad, but that would be its category in layman’s terms. An option for that evening (as the menu changes daily) was the Roasted Beet and Organic Green Salad with Citrus Vinaigrette and Pickled Red Onions.

As the ballet that is Opus 39’s experience continued, the second course brought the largest Pan Seared Scallop I have ever seen, with Warm Purple Potato Salad, Micro Greens and Truffle Peppercorn Vinaigrette. I am quite fond of the Warm Purple Potato Salad, something I had never even fathomed until that evening. I selected this over the Sauteed Shrimp with Grilled Asparagus, Jicama and Roasted Poblanos.

My third course was Seared Day Boat Cod with Polenta Cake, Zucchini-Stinging Nettle Ragout and Thyme Pan Jus. That is quite a mouthful to speak, one that also was quite a pleasure to savor. The alternative was Seared Hawaiian Pumpkin Swordfish with Sweet Corn-Okra Saute, Bacon and Arugula. 

Fourth brought Pan Roasted Duck Breast with Black Trumpet Mushrooms, Sugar Snaps, Dried Cherry-Fingerling Ragout and Scallion Puree. It also brought a second glass of my Cabernet. There were two other choices for this course, including Roasted Quail with Cannelini Beans and Roasted Tomato-Picholine Olive Broth, or Grilled Beef Tenderloin and Braised Shallot Sauce over Root Vegetable Puree and Braised Swiss Chard. 

I chose the duck, because I had yet to ever encounter a duck that met the requirements of my palate. I simply had never enjoyed the fowl. I felt like taking a risk, as by the fourth course, who could go wrong if something was not a favorite? After all, I had five other courses to rely upon, if this one went awry. I would fully recommend just such a tactic of trying something new, if you find yourself in Opus 39, as I doubt anything could be less than perfection. In fact, I loved the duck.

The optional cheese course was next, that of Humboldt Fog with Orange Honey, Fennel Pollen (so delightful), Frisee and Walnuts. Definitely opt the cheese course in!

I was abstaining from a third glass of blessed red at this point, as I wanted to lighten up for the dessert selection, if that makes any sense at all. A wonderful iced tea (I am Southern, remember) accompanied my Passion Fruit Custard Chocolate Mousse Bombe with Vanilla Bean Crème Anglaise. Goodness sakes, it was passionate! Again, there were two additional selections: Coconut Cheesecake with Coconut Macadamia Nut Crust and Tropical Fruit Compote, or Citrus Crème Caramel with Pedro Ximenez Macerated Berries. 

How did I make my menu selections, for the most part? I went with instinct, leaning toward those I had never come close to experiencing before, and even selecting the duck – which I typically cannot eat. For the dessert, I did what any sweet tooth should do when faced with three very luscious selections: I asked my accommodating and smiling server which was his most favored choice. He certainly did not lead me astray!

This second evening, after the meal drew to a close, I again walked the city streets, window shopping and people-watching in the safe, moonlight breezes. I was officially relaxed and well-fed. I feared the bathroom scale, but would worry about that tomorrow. Imagine my complete amazement (after those meals and many others almost as decadent), when I stepped onto the scale in my metropolitan home and found that I had actually lost two pounds that week, due to all of the walking and touring! I think that was probably the most delightful and inexplicable weight loss I have ever experienced. I certainly would be willing to test the validity of that, again!

An Escape of Historic Opulence
Well beyond the City Gates and on the famed Ponte Vedra Beaches is Ponte Vedra Inn & Club, a distinguished choice for anyone seeking unparalleled service, opulent surroundings and upscale amenities, as well as a selection of recreational, dining, shopping, and relaxation activities that are rarely experienced within such unencumbered proximity to a historic sight of St. Augustine’s caliber.

At Ponte Vedra – with its Five Diamond accommodations and pristine white beaches – 36 holes of golf, tennis, top-notch workout facilities, heated swimming pools, fishing and seaside enjoyment are all daily offerings, along with sublime spa treatments and your choice of meals at one of their four restaurants and three lounges (or in your incredible room). 

As I had explored so much during my time in St. Augustine, I was completely wiped out and sank immediately into Ponte Vedra Inn & Club’s delightfully comfortable bed with soft sheets and four fluffy pillows, remote control in hand and oceanic views with swaying palm trees just through the room’s large window. After sleeping some of my exhaustion and the early evening away, I awoke with zero guilt and quite a bit of hunger, finding their 24-hour room service menu neither sparing nor without struggle, in deciding which of the many options to select, as well as which of the eye-catching rich desserts I should avoid. 

After eating too much and indulging in that cheesecake I tried unsuccessfully to talk myself out of, I immersed myself completely in the spectacular space that was the bathroom. The giant tub beckoned me that night, with midnight bubbles, and the separate, large shower being the option for morning. Before leaving at checkout time the next day, I spent at least an hour longer than usual primping, as the vast dressing vanity in the bathroom encouraged me to sit, take my time, and start my day feeling as pretty as I desired.

My only recommendation for improvement upon my time at Ponte Vedra Inn & Club? That would be to linger much, much longer and explore so much more.

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