The line at the White House; photos by Beth D'Addono

Editor’s note: This is the first in an occasional series of guests posts from Unchained Travel, Beth D’Addono’s global guide to locally owned places to eat, drink, play and sleep.

Locals have long debated what makes the sandwiches so special at White House in Atlantic City, N.J.

Maybe it’s the bread, fresh Italian loaves straight out of the oven from Formica Bros. Bakery across the street.

Or maybe it’s the over-sized fillings of deli meats and cheeses.

Whatever it is, White House has been a lines-out-the-door operation since 1946.

Supposedly even Ol’ Blue Eyes had sandwiches delivered to him when he came to town.  The White House owners are definitely fans of the Chairman of the Board –– don’t miss the wall of fame shrine that includes photos and even a framed towel used by Francis Albert himself at his last AC appearance. Awesome relic.

Naturally, the subs are HUGE –– two-handers –– so depending on your hunger, a half ($7 for a turkey sub) will do you. Or go for the gusto, and spring for the $12.60 White House Special, jam-packed with Italian meats and cheeses and dressed with hot peppers, lettuce tomato and onions.

With more than 20 million subs sold, they’re doing something right.

Vibe: No frills is giving this place too much credit. But it works.

The Crowd: A real mixed bag, from business types to teens, tourists –– the line is always interesting. But don’t wait on it if you’re taking out, elbow through and head to the back to order.

Best Bets: The tuna with provolone is my favorite.

And for Dessert: If you can possibly save room, go across the street to Formica where the cannoli are piped to order and the filling is thick, sweet ricotta spiked with chocolate chips.

photos by Irv Green

Seattle’s Pike Place Market, the oldest continuously operated farmers market in the nation, is colorful, crowded and caffeinated, as befits the prime attraction in the city that birthed Starbucks.

It’s a place defined as much by the smells and sounds as by the sights. There are men hawking fish that, they promise, can be delivered to your home before spoiling, performers strumming guitars, people talking in a multitude of languages.

And while the odor of fish predominates, it’s mixed with the strong smells of curry, kimchee, coffee and chocolate. As for color, the flowers, which change seasonally, are startling bright; the vegetables are overwhelmingly supersized, and the fruit is incredibly sweet.

The market owes its existence to price-gouging middlemen, onion-hungry citizens and a sympathetic councilman. In response to his constituents, who were furious that the price of onions had risen dramatically, Seattle Councilman Thomas Revelle proposed a simple solution. He suggested that farmers set up shop on an empty street corner and sell directly to their customers. In the early morning hours of August 17, 1907, eight farmers did just that. They were swarmed by customers, and their produce sold out within hours.

Although thousands of people went home empty-handed, everybody knew that the business climate of Seattle, at least in regards to produce, had changed forever. From that day on, Seattle consumers would be able to buy directly from the producer, paying less for more and, incidentally, creating one of Seattle’s top tourist attractions.

Now, 104 years later, more than 100 farmers rent space at the market, which has expanded to cover nine acres. Commercial businesses that offer imported goods have moved in, restaurants have opened, and nearly 200 craftspeople have set up booths that sell everything from handmade purses to handsome jewelry.

My husband and I let ourselves be swept along with the crowd, and as we do, vendors ply us with samples: a handful of dried fruit, a slice of apple, a chunk of cantaloupe, a taste of jam, and the best chocolate-covered cherry I’ve ever tasted.

We’re not really hungry, but in the name of research we order a halibut sandwich from the Market Grill. Delicious! Four hours later we decide we must try some fish and chips from Lowell’s. Incredible.

We think we’ve seen it all, but just to make sure, the following day we take the Savor Seattle Tour. In a space of two hours, our guide serves up bits of market history as well as tastes of more than 20 foods, from fresh-made doughnuts to several kinds of piroshky. We roll home thoroughly sated.

Freshly caught wordfish; photo by Dan Bock

One of Sicily’s best known modern writers, Roberto Alajmo, described Palermo as an onion.  He was referring to the layers of history veiled within the city’s chaotic backstreets; however the allusion to food is just as apt.

The island’s turbulent past has indelibly left its mark on the ingredients used throughout the city. Every colorful market stall, every corner café is a reflection of Palermo’s Greek, Norman, Arabic, Spanish and Italian heritage.

Fast food in Palermo still has its roots in the past and uses the freshest local ingredients.  Take arancine, for example, the little orange-colored rice croquettes that can be found across the city.  Often filled with a mixture of ground meat, pine nuts, cinnamon, tomato and currants, they personify this fusion and –– fresh from the fryer –– are quite delicious.

The city’s markets take you closer to the souks of Marrakech than they ever will to the boulevards of Milan. The Vucciria is the mother of them all but its vibrant offspring, the Ballarò and the Capo, are also an assault on the senses.

Arancine; photo by Francesco Zaia

Look for an outdoor griddle and the tell-tell smoke rising from a fish barbecue.  Fresh steaks of tuna and swordfish, brushed with oil and lemon, can be washed down with a birra nazionale or a glass of chilled white from Alcamo.

For the more adventurous and strong of stomach, don’t forget the stigghiola threaded onto a skewer, which smells heavenly on a griddle if you ignore the fact it’s a sheep or goat intestine. Chop into pieces, add a pinch of salt and a squeeze of lemon.

Pizza is ubiquitous but if you want to put a Sicilian spin on it, seek out a sfincione.  This is basically foccacia bread topped with tomatoes, anchovies, caciocavallo cheese and sprinkled with oregano.  Vendors are at the heart of every market scene, and locals will flock to their favorites.

Chickpeas were first cultivated in Sicily on a grand scale during the time of Arabic rule and since this medieval period, the inhabitants of Palermo have enjoyed a chickpea flour fritter called a panella.  You can often detect a hint of fennel, so prevalent in much of Sicilian cooking, with the wild variety dotting the mountains behind the city.

A Sicilian recipe is really a cultural record, a form of folk art. The street food in Palermo, so rich in flavor and history, will undoubtedly satisfy your appetite as you peel back the layers of the onion.

Chef Martin Picard of Pied de Cochon

Montreal may sound like Paris, but it tastes like poutines.

A mess of french fries, gravy and cheese curds, this signature dish captures the engaging and independent culinary personality of French-speaking Canada’s largest city.

Originally inhabited by Native Americans, later populated by hunters, trappers and missionaries, and eventually battled over by the French and British, Montreal offers gutsy, creative and hearty fare that honors its diverse forbears.

“There is a tradition of English cooking and French cooking, but it’s taken on that lusty explorer, wilderness, joie de vivre,” says Catherine MacPherson, a food columnist for Canadian Broadcasting Corporation radio. “It’s rib sticking, and it’s got that independent spirit.”

That wasn’t always so. Until the early 1990s in Montreal, “good” cuisine meant “French” cuisine, and all the local stars had trained in France. That’s also where they got their ingredients — lamb, lobster, artichokes, nearly everything.

Until a young chef named Normand Laprise returned from the Continent more impressed by the freshness of ingredients in France than by their Frenchness.

He began cultivating farmers and ranchers and launched a movement toward fresh, local ingredients that drew from Quebec’s rich landscape. His restaurant, Toque!, opened in 1993, and remains the standard-bearer for upscale Quebequois cuisine.

Chef Normand Laprise of Toque!

“When you come in Montreal, you feel that the food is more about us, about Quebec philosophy and Quebec roots,” he says. “It’s our produce, our chefs.”

Today, Montreal is “bigger and better,” Laprise says, as the scene has filled with choice, from bistros to sandwich shops to corner grocers and cheese shops that offer fresh, delicious, local foods.

The city claims 6,000 restaurants spanning 80 cuisines for its scant 2 million people, making it a city of foodies, by foodies, for foodies. The food scene could take weeks to explore, but with just a few days — and a big appetite — a dedicated eater can make a thorough and delicious survey.

Start the tour at L’Express, a traditional bistro in the Plateau neighborhood where the floor is checkered, the ceilings are high, and French is spoken all around.

The steak of steak-frites is juicy and fatty, crowned with herb butter. The frites are crispy and light. Pistachio-studded pate literally melts on the tongue leaving hints of thyme and cognac behind.

The chocolate tart is so glossy and thick with flavor that the otherwise stone-faced waiter is moved to speak, telling two diners that it is made with 76% cacao.

Montrealers have made L’Express their local hangout for nearly three decades, but recently it’s gotten some company.

Around the corner, Au Pied de Cochon plumps up the bistro concept, making traditionally thrifty Quebecois cooking richer, fatter, heartier.

Chef Martin Picard offers pickled venison tongue; a salad of rich, bitter greens topped with crunchy bits of fried pig cartilage; and nearly everything stuffed with foie gras, from peasant food such as pig’s foot to the famous poutines.

Picard’s menu honors the region’s sweet tooth not only with the famous tarte au sucre — literally, sugar pie — but even with a playful take on breakfast that features buckwheat pancakes, thick bacon, and yes, foie gras, all of it doused with maple syrup.

On the other side of town in the Petite-Bourgogne neighborhood, Restaurant Joe Beef redefines the British pub with a decidedly modern take on roasts, puddings and other delectables.

Named after a legendary tavern keeper known for scoring rations for his fellow British soldiers, the tiny restaurant’s menu changes with the seasons and the whim of chef Fred Morin.

But Joe Beef traffics in items such as fresh lobster tossed with bacon, baby peas and pasta, and dishes for two, such as sliced rib steak with marrow bones, or a whole rack of Quebec lamb with mint sauce.

Tucked in the back, but at the establishment’s heart, is the oyster bar, a half-dozen seats crowded around a dinged-up counter where three-time Canadian oyster-shucking champion John Bil recently popped dozens of briny bivalves mostly from the waters of Prince Edward Island.

No matter where or what a visitor eats in Montreal, it’s likely to be decadent. Butter, sugar, lard: these ingredients do not scare Montrealers.

“There’s never been a fear of indulgence or fats when it comes to their food,” MacPherson says. “They see no reason for self-flagellation at the dinner table.”

Which brings us back to poutines. Gravy-and-cheese slathered french fries, are, perhaps, a dish best understood when inebriated. Or when you’re very, very cold.

“Imagine yourself being here in February, you’re on a ski hill and it’s minus 27,” says Nathalie Cooke, a culinary historian at the city’s McGill University.  ”You’d be amazed how good poutines can taste.”

Au Pied’s foie gras-laden poutines are revered by gourmets, but students and bloggers seem to favor the slapped down version at Patati Patata, a tiny corner joint near McGill whose name roughly translates as “blah blah blah.”

But poutines aren’t the city’s only casual food. A flourishing culture of quick but delicious — and above all real — food can be found at patisseries, fromageries (cheese shops), and places that fall somewhere between bakery, sandwich shop and grocery store.

At Olive et Gourmando in the Vieux-Montreal neighborhood, flaky palmiers are delivered alongside dense Valrhona brownies and hot sandwiches dripping with caramelized onions and succulent pork.

“We’re not interested in how many tables there are,” Cooke says. “We’re quite willing to go to a place that has two tables, or even to stand.”

Another good read:

Horchateria La Huertana at Valencia's Mercado Central

When I travel, it’s the street food, as much as the haute cuisine, that satisfies my palate and hunger to learn more about a different place.

Whether savory or sweet, fried or baked, substantial or not, such portable meals and snacks offer an affordable gateway into new culinary and cultural worlds.

Here are a range of favorites, from down-and-dirty to more deluxe, from my recent travels around Europe.

Valencia: Long, Tall Drink

One sip of a Valencian horchata –– a chilled, creamy drink extracted from the tiger nut –– and you’ll wonder why this refreshing and satisfying beverage isn’t more of a crossover hit.

You can sip horchata in Valencia’s old school cafes, such as Horchateria Santa Catalina or Fabian –– and you should –– but I most enjoyed the not-too-sweet version poured at a stand in the Mercado Central or Central Market.

There, the twenty-something German Polo helms the family-owned Horchateria La Huertana. As I downed my glass, he was eager to talk up the business and the drink, which is believed to aid digestion.

A side of fartons, a kind of sweet, yeasty soft breadstick designed for dunking, only enhances the stuff.

Photos by Robert DiGiacomo

Formia: Religious Experience

As the grandson of one Joseph and the uncle of another, I always look forward to March 19 –– the Catholic feast day for St. Joseph –– when Italian bakeries in my Philadelphia neighborhood produce a special pastry.

Known as zeppoli, they are not your grandfather’s fried dough. The best versions start with a delicate French cruller-style doughnut, which is then split in half and stuffed with either vanilla or chocolate cream, or ricotta, topped by a Bing cherry.

I’d like to think my Pop Pop was with me in spirit and stomach when I stumbled upon a classic version at a pasticceria on a back street in the seaside town of Formia, Italy, his father’s hometown.

Paris: Ethnic Surprises, Sophisticated Treats

Don’t let the barker or throngs of tourists outside fool you –– L’As du Fallafel in the Jewish Quarter in the Marais is the real deal.

It all starts with the falafel or chick pea fritters  –– crunchy on the outside, tender on the inside –– and continues with the freshness of the other key ingredients (cucumbers, carrots, fried eggplant, shredded pickled cabbage and tahini).

Since the price (7 euros or just under $10) is the same whether you eat in or take out –– and the overstuffed falafel is a messy meal in itself –– I suggest dining inside, the better to savor this affordable treat.

Meanwhile, on Belleville’s thriving strip of Asian-owned restaurants and shops, I tried one of Paris’ true bargains: a Vietnamese banh mi sandwich at Chez Yu for just 3 euros or $4 and change.

The sandwich, as one might expect in bread-crazy Paris, was built on a sturdy baguette. Roasted pork, pate, shredded carrots and slivers of hot peppers, smeared with that yin-yang combination of fish sauce and mayonnaise, added up to an authentic and wallet-friendly lunch.

Finally, on a more rarefied street –– the Rue Bonaparte in tony St. Germain des Pres –– is an affordable luxury that no one should go without.  There, in a tiny jewel box of a shop that seems more boutique than bakery, master pastry chef Pierre Herme presents his masterpiece: the macaron.

These aren’t ordinary creme-filled cookies, but transformative orbs in dozens of flavors, such as  caramel-sea salt and milk chocolate-passionfruit.

For about 2 euros or $2.75 each, they encapsulate Parisian style –– and substance.

Bob Ellis Shoes; photo courtesy of Charleston Area Convention and Visitors Bureau

In Charleston, the tempo of life is as sweet as my Uncle Wilbur’s iced tea and as dillydallying as his drawl. But, that doesn’t stop me from running past the antique stores and art galleries on King Street, not dawdling to window shop like a good Southern girl should. After all, I’ve got my priorities.

Because before there was Sex and The City, there was Bob Ellis Shoes. And, no visit to this distilled magnolia blossom of a centuries-old harbor town would be complete without a visit to Bob Ellis, the coolest shoe hall in the South — if not the world.

Shoe hijinks aside, by all accounts, Bob Ellis, a destination in itself, was the seed that gave rise to gallery, café, and boutique-laden King Street — Charleston’s most famous place to lighten the wallet. A fixture for 50 years, this flagship of King Street continues in the service of well-shod Southerners as a veritable temple to footwear.

Stemming from old school Southern hospitality, their customer service is the sort that surely makes their mommas proud. But that’s just one reason for the store’s popularity. The other is the indisputable fact that no matter what size your feet (gargantuan, wide as a river, slim as a stem), they can find a shoe that fits you. There’s not a soul in Charleston who hasn’t bought a pair of heel tappers at Bob Ellis. Why, just stepping in to look becomes a regular tidewater social occasion.

City Market; photo courtesy of Charleston Area Convention and Visitors Bureau

But Charleston isn’t just about shoes. Indeed, this bastion of Southern sensibilities ensnares with cobblestone streets, Doric-columned antebellum mansions, white painted porticos and landscaped gardens. Tea parties with china cups are as common behind closed doors as strongly mixed cocktails with gin or bourbon — the sort my Charlestonian clan referred to as “travelers” (if you were going somewhere) or “dressers” (if you were in your room getting dressed).

It’s a place with undertones of Gullah (the African-Americans who live in the low country and seas islands of South Carolina) culture: folklore, food, language and artistry. It’s a maze of beauty and mystery; a city invigorated by its history and enhanced by the creative spirit. No wonder it feels like a treasure chest flung open.

And then, there’s the lure of lowcountry cuisine. Connect with the city’s heart and soul with this fusion food, a mélange of West Africa meets Caribbean and European influences beside the sea. The emphasis is on local and seasonal ingredients grown on the region’s plantations and the bounty of coastal waters. Relish dishes replete with crabs, shrimp, oysters, and other seafood, partnered creatively with rice, beans, okra and tomatoes.

Brunch at iconic Poogan’s Porch exemplifies the gastronomy. Here, for three decades, locals line up to start their weekend with such gob smackers as: flakey buttermilk biscuits with spicy sausage gravy, shrimp with grits and blue crab gravy, and fried green tomato and bacon benedicts.

McCrady's; photo by Jason Kaumeyer/Paul Cheney

First timers to the lowcountry food culture might want to acquaint themselves with a crash course at the City Market, a two-century old stretch of vendor sheds currently undergoing a massive ($5.5 million) renovation, but slated to be totally completed by April. Between East Bay and Meeting Street, this series of sheds dating to 1841 composes one of the nation’s oldest public markets.

The market is the best place to nab local souvenirs, like benne wafers (a sesame sweet treat that hearkens back to the plantation era) and hand-crafted seagrass baskets (made according to Gullah tradition). Go behind the scenes with Culinary Tours of Charleston’s “Savor the Flavor” tour.

But to truly delve into the local fare, one must loosen their belt and make some restaurant reservations. Trendsetting, award winning chefs have made headlines the past few years, formulating a new south cuisine that does lowcountry with a twist.

Three years consecutively, chefs from Charleston have garnered James Beard Best Southeast Chef Awards. Don’t miss Robert Stehling at Hominy Grill (2008), Fig’s Mike Lata (2009), or McCrady’s creative Sean Brock (2010).

For comfort food in a nostalgic setting, experience breakfast or lunch at Dixie Supply Bakery & Cafe. Owner Allen Holmes traces his Charlestonian heritage back to 1698, and the menu brims with recipes that have been passed down from one generation to the next. Try the tomato pie, always made with fat, fresh grown tomatoes.

Best time to visit Charleston? Anytime. But you might want to plan to coordinate your visit with a special event, such as January’s Lowcountry Oyster Festival or March’s BB&T Wine +Food Festival. So, come when you can —  just remember two things: Come shoeless and come hungry. You’ll be glad you did.

But for me, those all just turned out to be good excuses to build an appetite . . . and to eat well.

On a recent weekend excursion to the adjacent communities of Gulf Shores and Orange Beach,  I was surprised to discover several first-rate restaurants, many which have sprung up recently. Here’s a short list of some that won’t disappoint:

Cobalt Orange Beach’s newest restaurant sits at Perdido Pass near the Florida state line, and features waterfront dining, an immense waterfall and a virtual video aquarium. A favorite for Sunday Brunch, and for its unique seafood appetizers such as Lobster Rangoon in a wonton shell, Cobalt is also winner of a Wine Spectator award of excellence.

South Beach Bar and Grill Located at Gulf Shore’s Beach Club Resort and reinvented with a new name in early 2010, the restaurant offers an exquisite setting and local seafood prepared in a Cajun/Creole style. The charismatic chef and veteran restaurateur, Greg Buschmohle, loves to share tales of his vintage-car racing days as much as his passion for Creole and Caribbean flavors and regional cooking.

Lulu’s Jimmy Buffet fans won’t want to pass up an evening at Lulu’s, Buffet’s younger sister’s restaurant and shop in Gulf Shores. Parrotheads can listen to live music and order a cheeseburger along with, what else?, a good margarita. Browse the boutique for all sorts of memorabilia and Gulf Coast and Key West flavors.

Photos by Ann Yungmeyer

The Hangout Just as the name suggests, The Hangout is the place to go for ‘food, festivity and family fun.’ It’s a great choice to take a crowd for listening to music or hanging around the bar. With an expansive menu to suit every taste, The Hangout features beach favorites like seafood baskets, peel and eat shrimp, burgers and anything fried, including the house specialty — wild frickles (pickles).

Shipp’s Harbour Grill Enjoy casual dining while admiring the yachts at Gulf Shore’s Sportsman Marina. Again you’ll find fresh seafood with a tropical twist, but Chef Matt Shipp does a fine job of presentation and combining unique flavors. His signature specialties are West Indies Salad and Pepper Fried Shrimp and oysters served all kinds of ways — spicy, rockin’ nude, or surfin’. Red meat lovers will revel in the Butter Boy Steak or Stilton Stuffed Filet.

An excursion to the coast provides numerous complementary ways to indulge besides sampling the dining scene. There’s the Island Breeze Banana Wrap treatment at Sirena del Sol Spa; taking a naturalist-led golf cart tour through the wilderness of Gulf State Park; blowing your own glass ornament at Orange Beach Art Center; or taking a cooking class at Beach Cite Studios.

At that last, I learned how to make granola and chocolate zucchini muffins. Hmmm. . . . maybe it always comes back to food, after all!

The Del Charro margarita; photo by John Shabe

Margaritas were seemingly everywhere during a recent trip to Santa Fe, N.M. and environs –– and my wife and I did our best to try them all.

We stuck to the traditional recipe of  triple sec, lime and a little sugar. Frozen strawberry margaritas and their sickly sweet cousins are fare for Chili’s rather than the land of chiles and were not allowed. I took mine salted, the missus without.

Here’s our unscientific take on these lovely ‘Ritas, with points for flavor, ambiance and that otherworldly mystical quality that seems to steep many New Mexican locations.

The clubby Del Charro Saloon at the Inn of the Governors is about two blocks from Santa Fe’s Plaza. Settle into a leather wing chair near the fireplace and order one of the bar’s signature margaritas: Smooth, well-balanced, just enough lime, it was my favorite.

The best part? The bartender gives you the shaker along with your cocktail, so there’s easily enough for a refill and then some. A great drink and a great value for $9.50. ‘Rita Rating: Four shakes

Locals flock to Maria’s, a no-nonsense restaurant well out of Santa Fe’s tourist center for fantastic New Mexican-style comfort food. While you’re waiting for your table, order from Maria’s 100-margarita menu.

Touted as a “real margarita” made with “real tequila” and “real triple sec,” mine just didn’t do it for me. It tasted medicinal with too much bite. Rather than use lime, Maria’s makes its margaritas with lemon juice, which could have been the culprit. ‘Rita Rating: One shake

The Bell Tower bar; photo courtesy of La Fonda hotel

Five stories above Santa Fe’s Plaza, the Bell Tower Bar atop the historic La Fonda hotel delivers the best views in Santa Fe and one of the better margaritas around. People fill the Bell Tower’s roof deck every evening to watch the sun set, but why wait when you’re thirsty?

The Bell Tower’s margarita goes down nicely in the afternoon sun with the gratis bar kibble. You taste the tequila here, and for $10-a-’Rita, you’d better. If you miss The Bell Tower (it’s only open in the afternoons until sunset, April through October), you can score a margarita at the Fiesta Lounge in La Fonda’s lobby. ‘Rita Rating: Three shakes

Outside of Santa Fe, we continued our sipping tour, with a stop at The Adobe Bar at The Taos Inn. The Adobe Classic margarita, one of 14 choices, is made with Jose Cuervo Gold, but was just OK. It did get points for being the only version served in an iconic cobalt blue-rimmed glass. ‘Rita Rating: Two shakes

In San Antonio, N.M., a small town about three hours south of Santa Fe, we paired our margarita tastings with an exploration of another Southwestern staple: the green chili cheeseburger.

The Buckhorn Tavern scored in the food department, but its rival The Owl Bar had us at first sip: The taste was  multi-layered and flavorful, served in a no-nonsense, frosted highball. ‘Rita Rating: Two shakes

Finally, The Mine Shaft Tavern –– situated in Madrid (say it MAH-drid), a mining town-turned artist enclave on the Turquoise Trail between Albuquerque and Santa Fe –– offers a good base ‘Rita for just $3. But you probably would do better to upgrade to a premium one made with Sauza tequila and Cointreau.  ‘Rita Rating: Two shakes

Knoxville’s ever expanding culinary scene  — especially in its downtown — is making it a go-to spot for foodies, not just college football fanatics. The Old City warehouse district continues to hold appeal for favorite haunts like Patrick Sullivan’s and The Melting Pot, but it’s the historic Market Square District that’s thriving as a new destination for eclectic cuisine.

With flavors of ‘New South and Latino Fusion,’ La Costa is a favorite on Market Square. The menu features organic produce, free range beef and chicken, and non-farmed seafood. La Costa’s youthful Executive Chef Jimmy Ooton (age 23) has a flair for creating unique and interesting dishes.

Think: wild salmon with avocado-tomato salsa over Yukon potato and roasted poblano pepper with romesco sauce and pan-fried spinach. La Costa offers special dinner/wine pairings, and Sunday brunch in a cozy brick interior. Its patio on the square stays popular even in chilly weather.

A true taste of Paris is found at Le Parigo just off the Square. Owner/chef Cedric Coant re-creates his fond memories of delectable food he enjoyed (and grew up cooking) in France, then adds an organic spin.  In the intimate atmosphere of his newly renovated restaurant, Coant offers all natural products authentically prepared with great attention to detail, making Le Parigo a perfect choice for special occasion dining.

“We want you to take your time and enjoy the moment,” says Coant.  French favorites such as steak tartare with foie gras, smoked duck breast, and mussels a la provencale are among many featured delicacies offered with a selection of perfectly paired wines.

The S&W Grand Café, opened in late 2009, has nostalgic appeal thanks to its location in the old S&W Cafeteria on Gay Street.  Following a $4 million renovation, the art deco building, which had been vacant for 27 years, has been carefully restored.  The new cafe features S&W Classics — updated versions of dishes served from the 1930s through the 1950s — as well as creative contemporary cuisine.

Litton's famous pies

Pairing food and music is a common theme in the Market Square District. Café 4 opened last year as an art deco-style restaurant/bakery/coffee bar with an entertainment venue known as The Square Room. A hip gathering spot with WiFi in the mezzanine coffee bar, Café 4 also offers Jazz Lunches and singer/songwriter events. Managing partner Lori Klonaris says that “music is the fabric of who we are.”

Downtown Nut Brown (what a great name!) is one of several handcrafted brews you’ll find at Downtown Grill and Brewery, a place to “tap into good times.”  Peek at the brewing process while sampling brews, as brew master Tommy Higdon explains the different flavor profiles from dark to blond ale.  “The art is in formulating recipes to see what works best,” he says. “We have best sellers at both ends of the spectrum.”

The variety of signature beers complements a wide ranging menu of pastas, sandwiches, steaks, seafood, Mexican and more. Downtown Grill offers a Jazz Brunch on Sundays with ‘Build Your Own’ omelets, frittatas and traditional brunch libations — from Bloody Marys and Mimosas to their own ‘Maria-tinis.’

photos by Ann Yungmeyer

If you find yourself downtown on a weekday, grab a sandwich and enjoy lunchtime music at The Knoxville Visitor Center, where WDVX Radio broadcasts its own “blue plate specials”:  live performances of bluegrass, folk, Americana and traditional mountain music at noon.

The downtown area isn’t the only place to find great food. Some of the city’s well established classics, like North Knoxville’s Litton’s, founded in 1947 (famous for burgers and desserts), still pack a crowd. West Knoxville’s upscale Seasons Restaurant and Northshore Brasserie, serving French-Belgian cuisine, are getting quite the buzz.

Whether you make a special occasion trip or combine an outing with cheering on the ‘Big Orange,’ no one will blame you if you skip the tailgate in favor of tantalizing tastes and new adventures.

At last it was my turn to get a close up view of the dozen or choices and hear them described by a young female attendant who treated them with the seriousness such fine sweets deserve.

I went for something classic (the restaurant’s signature frozen Grand Marnier Soufflé); something rich and chocolate-y (the rum soaked Gateau Le Bec-Fin) and something “light” (a coconut cake with caramel mousse, mango jelly and diced lychees).

As I slowly worked my way through this fittingly rich ending, I made sure to gaze around the Parisian-style dining room tricked out with oversized crystal chandeliers, mirrors and gold trim. I wanted to savor the old world atmosphere as much as the food, since Le Bec-Fin’s days –– as well as those for this type of grand dining experience –– may well be numbered.

The 40-year-old restaurant, which helped put Philadelphia’s culinary scene on the national map, is up for sale and scheduled to close by next June.

Le Bec-Fin’s famously mercurial owner and executive chef Georges Perrier, who with his thick accent, barrel-chested build and imperial manner would seem to fit central casting’s idea of a French chef, believes the timing is right to end this major chapter in his storied culinary career.

However, the 66-year-old Perrier, who co-owns and/or manages three other restaurants, doesn’t seem likely to stray too far from the restaurant scene he helped create. He has several new places in the works for city and suburban locations.

In the meantime, it’s business as usual for Le Bec-Fin, which is marking its anniversary with a four-course $40 dinner special. Or perhaps it’s more business than usual –– a midweek reservation was hard to get, likely due to the discounted prix fixe, which runs through October, and interest generated by news of the closing.

In recent years, Perrier has loosened things up considerably at his flagship restaurant, by relaxing the dress code; trying out all kinds of special menus, including a pay-what-you-wish gimmick, and even introducing a burger and frites.

Even with these changes, Le Bec-Fin, whose name is a French idiom for a refined palate, seems to belong to a different era, and not in a bad way. While other restaurants spill out on to the sidewalk, Perrier’s is a rarefied, white tablecloth sanctum contained behind a polished brass front door.

Inside, the staff is friendly but not too familiar, swirling around you in a pleasant buzz of efficiency. Someone refolds your napkin when you leave the table, various servers consult on the wine, take your order and bring the bread, and someone is always available to escort you to the bathroom if you don’t know the way.

The 40^th anniversary choices show that culinary standards, under chef de cuisine Nicholas Elmi and Perrier’s watchful eyes, remain high, even as the menu continues to evolve.

Among the highlights of a recent dinner were the octopus and chorizo with pickled blueberries, a chilled pea soup with toasted almond “ice cream” and roasted flat iron steak with red wine poached shallots.

The meal didn’t seem like a trip down memory lane to your dad’s favorite old-school restaurant –– at least not until the dessert cart arrived.

After polishing off those luscious treats, I had to admit that sometimes father knows best.