DUBLIN _ It was the perfect way to start off my trip to what has become a favorite destination. My hotel, the Westbury, had arranged through Fab Food Trails, a walking tour of the inner city's top food and fashion venues.
Meeting my guide, Eveleen Coyle, in the hotel lobby, she explained that we would be "gently walking" for the next 2 { hours, stopping at various places along the way to taste the flavors of Ireland and talk with local artists and designers in what has become known as Dublin's Creative Quarter.
Ireland's roaring Celtic Tiger economy of the late 1990s may have morphed today into a purring pussy cat, but Dublin's creative energy is alive and well. This is a city that continues to lustily celebrate the talents of its artists, musicians, writers, designers and culinary stars.
Our first stop was Sheridan's Cheesemongers, a closet-sized space where Dubliners flock to buy their cheeses. I love Irish farmhouse cheeses and finally settled on two to sample _ Shepherd's Store, a hard sheep's cheese, and Durrus, a wash rind cow's milk cheese from Cork in the south of Ireland.
Next up was a visit to Anthony Peto, a hat shop specializing in classic headwear for men and women. I was introduced to the charming Petra, whom I'm convinced could sell a hat to the Headless Horseman. I walked out with a jaunty moss green number that within five minutes of having bought it had garnered me four compliments from complete strangers.
Over the course of our stroll, Eveleen and I sniffed custom-blended perfume at Parfumarija; tried on butter soft leather hand wear at Paula Rowan Gloves and stroked delicate cashmeres at MoMuse, before she declared it was time to "pop in" to the Pepper Pot for another tasting.
The Pepper Pot is on the second level of the Powerscourt Townhouse Centre, a clever repurposing of a former aristocrat's townhouse. What comes out of the tiny kitchen at the Pepper Pot is extraordinary _ not the least of which are their mouth-watering scones.
By the time we arrived at the final stop, Stable, specializing in fine Irish linen, Eveleen and I were fast friends and it was hard to believe 2 { hours had gone by so quickly.
What wasn't hard to believe was the sheer number of top quality shops, galleries and specialty food establishments. Dublin has always served as an incubator for artsy types _ from Brendan Behan to Bono. Indeed, it was the latter who _ with the opening of a boutique hotel there _ gave the Temple Bar area its reputation for coolness. Today, it is the site of such artsy venues as the Dublin Institute of Photography, Irish Film Institute and DESIGNyard.
But if you are looking for a good hotel base for some creative retail therapy and dining, you can do no better than the Westbury. A flagship hotel of the Irish-based Doyle Collection, it combines fashionable flair with the fine art of hospitality.
I checked in with a nasty sinus infection, and found my room ready _ almost never the case after a trans-Atlantic flight. In addition, Shauna, a hostess in the lobby Gallery, noting my obvious affliction, offered me her own special remedy _ tea infused with lemon, honey and ginger. Maybe it was my imagination, but it did seem to work _ at least enough to keep me going.
Dining at the Westbury is a treat as well _ once my sinuses opened up enough to taste what I was eating. In a naughty nod to one of Ireland's most creative types, the Westbury named its fine dining restaurant Wilde.
I could imagine the flamboyant playwright lurking behind the potted palms of the glamorous brasserie-style restaurant, observing the smart crowd assembled there for dinner, and uttering one of his cheeky lines, such as "My own business always bores me to death. I prefer that of other people."
If Wilde were alive today, he would be licking his lips over the Irish specialties on the menu.
I certainly was. Starting with a tempura of soft shell crab, black bean sauce and fermented slaw, I continued with the catch of the day and several side dishes that had me scraping the bottom of the dish: charred sweet corn chili with feta, and cauliflower and pomegranate.
