Hike-to-Table Fare in the Berkshires

What better way to build up to an epic AFC Championship Sunday than with a trip into the very heart of Tom Brady territory. No, we don't mean the red zone with 32 seconds on the clock and no timeouts remaining. We mean Ugg boot territory.

No wonder the dude swapped his cleats for Uggs, winter is the real deal up here. And anyway, after losing to an old timer with a gimpy neck he might as well throw in the towel anyway. Before his wife throws it at a receiver that is.

When this breakfast inn was built, the Declaration of Independence was still being scribbled out on the back of an envelope. Back then farm-to-table was all the rage too. Funny how history is circular.

The idyllic Berskshires are conveniently located about equidistant between New York and Boston, which is just close enough to Manhattan and just far enough away from Boston to allow one to safely root against the Patriots without ending up in the same place as those crates of English tea.

Winter hiking actually has a lot going for it. No need for sunblock, no pesky mosquitoes, a nice cooling breeze, and the warm fuzzy embrace of hypothermia.

The good news is the black bears are hibernating at this time of year. Sensible strategy really, why are we out hiking again?

Who's up for a refreshing dip in the stream?

 

Turns out the views are worth a little frostbite. Who needs ten fingers anyway?



There's no cellphone reception up here, but you don't really need a weather app; that lake over yonder that's frozen solid tells you everything you need to know.

Rock ponders his Everest summiting approach: the southeast ridge or the north ridge? Or head back down for a hot chocolate?

Looks like hot chocolate wins the day.

What's the first thing you think of when you stumble upon a frozen lake in the woods? Why test the ice strength of course. In hindsight that McDonald's on the drive up was ill advised. Unless of course one needs a hole for some ice fishing...

There's something just cool about walking across a lake. Sure is easier than swimming.

Did we mention the hot chocolate?

The Berkshires are famed for their rich lands and abundant produce. Nudel, a self-professed "seasonally inspired food" joint, knows just how to bring out the best of the region's bounty. Plus, the name is just cool.

Breakfast time already? Why the dinner plates have barely been cleared. But getting stuck trying to drive up the icy slope to the cabin doesn't lend itself to photos, so on to more enjoyable pursuits. Like breakfast at the somewhat bizarrely named Prairie Whale.

The name must be an oblique reference to what the clientele look like after feasting on the comforts of home-style farm fare.

The award for the quaintest restaurant on the eastern seaboard goes to... Prairie Whale. As does the gong for the weirdest name. And the best fried chicken and pancakes.

Hang on, take that statue back, Bash Bish Falls is surely a worthy contender in the strangest name stakes. Seriously, what the heck is a Bash Bish?

Whatever it is, it's quite a nifty double falls, secluded at the bottom of a snow-shrouded valley right on the New York-Massachusetts border. The one on the NY side is definitely bigger and more impressive.

Guess which falls majestically marks the Empire State's territory, and which little trickle flies the flag for Boston.

The perfect swimming hole... for a polar bear.

Tango Time Part 3: Tres, Dos, Uno... Feliz Año Nuevo!

Let the countdown begin! It may still be 12 hours to 2014, but this is South America. That means yesterday's party is only just winding down.

 

A lazy day exploring the charms of Palermo Soho is just the ticket for building up the requisite energy to party like a local. Or in Rock's case, to make it to midnight.

 

Is it a genuine Banksy? Probably not, but think of it as a dossant, not quite a real cronut but just as satisfying and without the queue. Or to use a local metaphor, Coca-Cola Life anyone?

A bar on every corner and a bike rack at every bar. Biking under the influence is the ultimate demonstration of gyroscopic physics in action. Just when you though there was no law in the universe strong enough to keep that wasted chick upright...

Want to raise real estate prices in your neighborhood? Just roll out the curated, vintage trinket cart and watch the bankers fall over themselves to buy some faux-coolness.

How many speakeasies can one hide in an alley?

There's only one universal test for gentrification. If it's called graffiti, buy now. If it's called street art, you've missed the boat.

With all things retro cool again it's no wonder socialism is making a comeback. There's a reason hip coffee roasters use hammer and sickle logos and slap "collective" somewhere in their name. Because you know, spending six bucks on an organic, single-origin pour-over is the right of the people gosh darn it, not just the bourgeoisie elite.

Excellent, now we can enjoy all the comforts of home, like a two month waiting list and a convoluted "we only take reservations at 12.01am on the third day after the first full moon of the winter solstice" booking policy.

If the entry to the store is bigger than a New York apartment, it's probably not somewhere you want to be shopping.

They don't open the door unless you meet the spending threshold. It's a worrying sign that it's swinging open quite readily.

With a paint scheme like that the food has got to be good.

At first it's not quite clear why they provide crayons at the table. But you quickly realize the downside of being the Paris of the Southern Hemisphere is the same service paradigm, or lack thereof, applies. By the time the menus arrive we'll have the next Mona Lisa.

 

Just in case Rock doesn't make it all the way to the countdown, we'll do a countdown to 12pm for some backup photos.

There's cool, there's super cool, and then there's colored speed bumps. Get outta here!

No wonder no one does any work around here. Just borrow money, default, and repeat.

Well that's not very nice.

Why use one color when you can use three? Why have one sangria when you can have three? Why not?

 

It's that time of the year again folks. Raise a glass, 2014 here we come! Of course, since no one remembered to actually bring their phone there's no actual way of knowing when the clock strikes midnight. That's ok, just keep drinking all night and chances are you'll hit the mark.

Fireworks and champagne in the streets. That's how they roll over here.

You know it's a good party when the Brazilians decide to gatecrash.

There's only one plausible destination when you need some grease to soak up the remnants of a night of excess.

The last dinner in Buenos Aires is something special: a so-called closed door dinner. Now for those thinking that most dinners tend to happen behind closed doors, unless the restaurant is suffering from a deficit of hinges, let us clarify. A closed door dinner is where you're invited to a communal dinner at a local's house, and they cook up a meal for you. After closing the door of course.

Last day in Buenos Aires, which means nursing those few remaining dollars through at least five more meals. Believe it or not, there is an alternative to steak: ground up steak between two buns. How novel.

 

This is where Team J00ster offloaded the rest of their greenbacks in exchange for some authentic Argentinian hipster wear. Say what? Oh you mean these are just normal-sized jeans? Are you sure, they're awfully tight?

Just in case you want to play Scotland the Brave on your aorta.

One more café for the road.

In 2010 Argentina was the first Latin American state to legalize gay marriage. Good on them, but there's a little bit of irony in the fact that's about the only thing the government doesn't have it's hand in. Oh well, the upside is there's five men's shops for every women's shop. As they say, it's good to be a guy.