HOW NOW, STRAUS COW?

Straus Family Creamery, on the shores of Tomales Bay, about an hour north of San Francisco, became the first organic dairy west of the Mississippi when it converted, in 1993, from a small family dairy farm to the sustainable model it is today. Straus produces extraordinarily good milk and cream in old-fashioned reusable bottles, along with European-style butters, tangy yogurts, and top-notch ice creams. But--get this--not only do those Straus cows make great dairy products, they also make electricity.

THE DAILY PLANETARY RECAP:

Peggy Knickerbocker scoops organic ice cream in Berkeley; John Willoughby enjoys Portland, Oregon's Thai food scene; Guy Dimond keeps us updated on London happenings; plus check back often for our worldwide correspondents' take on the latest hotels, restaurants, and destinations to watch in 2007.

ICI ON PARLE FRANCAIS, BUT UPSTAIRS...

Ici, in Brooklyn's Fort Greene neighborhood, may be French to the last drop of Les Mortiers Pineau d'Aunis, but its new private dining room, Upstairs at Ici, seems almost Scandinavian. After dropping by for a bite downstairs--a beautifully cooked roasted duck breast over red cabbage sauteed in a prune apple-cider sauce--I snuck ups for a peek at the new room. Stark white from wood floors to mile-high ceilings, original moldings, and a painted brick fireplace. There's room for 40 for dinner--sounds too cool for school--but it immediately struck me as a place oddly cozy, at least in candlelight, a place where you'd almost feel like you were throwing a party at home. Well, if home had a cozy little French bistro downstairs.

FAT OF THE LAND: BRISKETS OVER BROOKLYN

When I was a kid, my mom and dad would give me the fish eye when I'd ask them for the fat they'd cut away from their pork chops. But now I work with a bunch of people who not only relate--they fight over the fatty bits. I was reminded of the passing of the fat when, on another night in Fort Greene, a bunch of us laced into a well-marbled brisket at the month-old Smoke Joint, owned by Craig Samuels and Ben Grossman. Brisket courtesy of Craig, who, that night, was manning the flames. And when the brisket was demolished, there were barbecued chicken haunches, joint-rubbed fries, collards, and roasted corn There aren't many tables, and it's bare-bones (service is cafeteria-style), but it has a great neighborhood vibe, and if you like the smell of hickory or mesquite smoke, it will follow you home, literally--on your jacket, way into the next day.

THE LAU OF THE LAND

Gilbert Lau, former host and director of Flower Drum, the Melbourne haute-Cantonese fine-diner beloved by everyone from Patricia Wells to Mario Batali, has opened a new restaurant in the city with his son and brother. Lau's Family Kitchen is quite a departure from the Drum, in the sense that it doesn't take reservations and has only a very limited menu. The focus is, as the name suggests, on home-style Cantonese classics in a casual-chic setting but done with the eye for detail and focus on quality ingredients that made the Lau name: crisp-skin poussin, ma po tofu, cheong fun filled with baby spinach, coriander, and prawns, lamb spring rolls, and--yes--banana fritters with ice- cream.

LEMON TREE, NOT VERY PRETTY

In Chiang Mai, good food turns up in quirky places like Lemon Tree 2, which has the best tom yam pla krop (spicy soup with crispy fish) I've ever encountered in Thailand's second city. No one visits Lemon Tree 2 for the atmosphere. It's a college mess hall on the ground floor of Chiang Mai University's International Center, with bad lights and tacky yellow decor. In midafternoon, the place is empty. But professors, students, and visiting lecturers cram the cavernous dining rooms (there are two) for lunch and dinner. The soup is a clear, clean broth that hasn't been muddied by too much sugar and MSG. Lemon grass and galangal abound. But the flavor that makes this dish is a brash smokiness from roasted chiles and fish. Many tom yam pla krop recipes call for a whole catfish, deep-fried and cut into bite-size pieces with a crispy outside and tender inside. The Lemon Tree version offers less tenderness and more smoke in thin strips of fish--it's worth going out of your way to find.

IN PARIS, HOW SWEET IT IS 

A beekeeping friend asked me to visit a couple of honey stores (La Maison du Miel and Les Ruchers du Roy) in Paris recently, opening the doors to a subculture of beekeeping--apiculture--that I had no idea existed. Oh, I had tasted my share of artisanal, organic honeys and become fascinated with the whole idea of apitherapy (healing with products from the honeybee hive), but to find a beekeeping school deep within the green confines of the Luxembourg gardens was indeed an eye-opener.

TROTTER TROTS ACROSS TOWN
 
Charlie Trotter, godfather of Chicago chefs ever since launching his eponymous restaurant 20 years ago, will finally open a new place, at the Elysian Hotel and Private Residences, which debut along the Gold Coast in October. He'll also oversee the food-and-beverage operation, including room service, for the 60-story Elysian, which will be the flagship of a new luxury-hotel chain headed by David Pisor, nephew of Alice Waters, who paid his dues working at Chez Panisse and Cafe Fanny. Meanwhile, Chicago's foie gras ban, inspired by Trotter's reknowned refusal to serve it, remains in effect.

IN VEGAS, BOYS WILL BE BOYS

I should admit up front that I'm an advertiser's dream. Show me a clever ad, and I immediately want that product. Two hours after spotting a relatively attractive Kahlua billboard off Interstate 95, I walked like a zombie into a liquor store and purchased my first bottle in ten years. So I was quickly intrigued by a series of recent print advertisements for Las Vegas hotels. They were, how can I put this, a bit gay.

The first one I encountered was in Out magazine (although it's also appeared in nongay publications). A quite handsome, tousle-haired, shirtless young man is lying on a bed staring right at me. Directly below him, the copy (for the New York New York Hotel and Casino) states, "Luck isn't always a lady." Very clever, although I wasn't yet packing my bags. A couple of weeks later, I was reading Out Traveler and came upon an ad for Paris Las Vegas. From above, we see the clothing of two men (shoes and socks are strewn about) on the floor of a hotel room. Their pants and shirts are laid out in human positions and completely intertwined with one another. And things are apparently also getting pretty hot down on the casino floor. Another Paris Las Vegas ad features two oversize playing cards, the Jack of Spades and the Jack of Hearts. Except that the spades card is empty and the two jacks are both on the hearts card looking longingly into each other's eyes. I'm not sure what it all means, but I have always heard that what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. The zombie in me is ready to book a flight and find out what I've been missing.

DOG DAYS IN TUCSON

 Writer Margy Rochlin travels frequently to Tucson from her home in L.A., visiting family and stuffing herself. Here's her latest find:

For the past several years, banners advertising Sonoran-style hot dogs have been popping up all over Tucson. Sometimes, the signs lead you to a cart, sometimes to an open-air restaurant, and sometimes to the shade of a small Bedouin-like tent. Tent, cart, or sit-down diner, there is only one rule when looking for the right Sonoran hot-dog place: Check the clientele. If you don't see lots of baseball-capped University of Arizona students and/or plenty of construction workers, leave immediately.

KEY NOTES: ACQUALINA, MIAMI BEACH

Pulling up in front of this new luxury hotel--in Sunny Isles, a half-hour ride from both the Fort Lauderdale and Miami airports--you crane your neck trying to take in the grandeur: 51 stories of postmodern Mediterranean frosting. It's an impressive sight. Inside, this Rosewood hotel is a tranquil oasis, sometimes too tranquil. (Hot spots like South Beach are 20 minutes away by taxi.) The ocean views from the hotel's veranda and beachfront lawn are nothing short of breathtaking, and they only get better the higher up you go. There's also an adults-only pool (and one for kids as well), a private beach, and the first-ever U.S. operation from England's ESPA spa company.
WHAT'S THE BIG WOW?: The lavish water features--fountains, waterfalls, and pools--that fill the grounds and lobby.
LIKED LEAST: Faux-marble walls in the lobby (why not spend the extra for the real thing?). The tables on the veranda look like stone, but they are indeed plastic, which takes some of the magic away. And--it's a small point--there were too many light switches in my room. Every time I tried to turn off one light, another went on, as if I were continually taking, and failing, an IQ test.
WHO SHOULD STAY THERE?: Anyone craving the over-the-top style of old Miami Beach (think: early Fontainebleau) but with today's high-tech comforts.
WOULD YOU GO BACK?: While I won't be renting a room anytime soon--I like a younger crowd, more action, and less plastic surgery--I will definitely stop by some sunny day for one of the hotel's signature pineapple mojitos, served oceanside.