Maple. Bacon. Donut.

If you were to ask me what my most memorable—and delicious—part of last weekend was, it would be this:

Yes, friends, a maple bacon donut: a deep-fried piece of buttery dough, topped with a glaze of sweet maple frosting and savory, hickory-smoked bacon bits. It was, in a word, heavenly.

Second to that might be what I ate after consuming the aforementioned donut:

A whole avocado, stuffed with an old-fashioned salad of chicken, pickled pink onions, apples and walnuts.

Last weekend, I played tourist (and gastronome) yet again in my own hometown. Only this time, it was in downtown L.A.

If you’re a native Angeleno like I am, or have lived here for at least 20 years or more, you probably remember downtown as I do: as a run-down metropolis of seedy parking lots and old brick buildings with crumbling facades, as well as home to one of the worst freeway interchanges in the entire U.S. (well, in my opinion, anyway).

Until a few years ago, downtown wasn’t much of a destination at all for tourists—or locals for that matter. It was where you went strictly to work, to have dim sum or ramen en route to a Dodgers game, to give into a craving for Philippe’s French-Dip sandwiches, or to score some authentic faux-designer duds (thank you, Santee Alley).

Now, however, a lot of things have changed. People actually live in downtown again—and in fancy, overpriced lofts. There’s a grocery store. There are dogs. There are babies in strollers. There are beautiful bars and eclectic restaurants. There is art. And there are maple bacon donuts.

What brought me downtown (aside from the donuts from the Nickel Diner) were the two newest hotels to open there: The JW Marriott Los Angeles at L.A. Live and The Ritz-Carlton, Los Angeles. It was the first time I had seen them since the opening of the JW Marriott way back in March. Before that, I toured the hotels on a hard hat tour, in preparation for a cover story that I wrote last year for work.

While I’ll save my formal review of the hotels for work, I’ll say this: Both properties—which happen to share the same building—are worth checking out, especially if you happen to be headed to the Staples Center or the Nokia Theatre or anywhere connected to L.A. Live. And, for my French macaron-loving friend, Tracy: The macarons in The Ritz-Carlton’s Club Lounge—offered in strawberry, lemon and pistachio flavors—are really addictive. (I regret not taking some home for you to try.) 

And even though I was only a few miles away from home, the weekend still felt like a mini break—and that of the best variety: one filled with good food, good drinks, good views and a good friend.

To Market, To Market

Nearly every Saturday—if I can actually manage to wake up in time—I make it a point to walk to my nearby farmers’ market. My boyfriend and I lace up our shoes, grab Odie’s leash and head off toward the park for our weekly walk. It’s become one of my favorite rituals.

Once we’re there, it’s hard for me to peel myself away from all of the stands and, well, mainly, the food. And as guilty as I feel for having Eliot and Odie wait for me outside the market (dogs aren’t allowed in the main shopping area), I can’t help but want to take my time—which, much to their chagrin, I often do. It gets even tougher when Odie looks like that (see above right). I love examining each and every vegetable in season, tasting the free fruit samples, gawking at all of the fresh flowers and deciding what to buy for our brunch, from pupusas and tamales to currywurst and chocolate croissants. (What can I say? It’s a pretty eclectic farmers’ market.)

It’s no different when I travel. If anything, my desire to visit local markets only grows—and not just because I love to shop and eat. Visiting the market really does give you a better understanding of the destination you’re in by introducing you to that culture, and in the best ways possible—through your senses. I’ll never forget that first whiff of stinky tofu that I mistook for open sewage in Shanghai. Or how Tokyo’s Tsukiji Market was the only place in Japan where people were actually sort of impolite, cursing under their breath at the ignorant and dumbfounded tourists (ahem, me) standing in their way of a much-needed sale. In Hong Kong, I was a total sucker for beautiful jade necklaces and silks that were cool to the touch—so much so that I nearly tipped the baggage weight limit on my way home. In Tel Aviv's Carmel Market, I was awestruck by the rich colors of so many different spice stands. And in Honolulu, I blissfully ate my way through the Kapiolani Community College Farmers’ Market which, not so secretly, is my favorite farmers’ market thus far.

No matter where you travel to, there’s always something new to discover at the market and, with that, here are some of my favorite discoveries…

I never knew squash blossoms could look so pretty until I saw them at the market in Amsterdam.

Even the tiny little farmers’ market in Hoorn, the Netherlands, was bustling on an early Saturday morning.

I seriously doubted whether or not this man would be able to fit into his mini mobile bakery.

I loved how locals in Strasbourg, France, toted their dogs wherever they went, especially at the market…

And how you could even buy Asian specialties there, too, from beef and curry-filled samosas to…

…Chicken egg rolls.

Also, who doesn’t love a bouquet of fresh flowers?

In Tel Aviv, I was reminded that I was in the land of olives…

…spices...

...and gummy candy—lots of gummy candy.

I also realized I wasn’t the most inconspicuous of photographers.

And I was perplexed by this silly and hideous-looking—yet intriguing—contraption: a visor with built-in shades that retract up and down. (Photo © Cindy Sosrotuomo)

Another realization: Infomercial sales strategies will work pretty much everywhere.

Kyoto’s Nishiki Market is another favorite market: I loved seeing so many different types of vegetables and snacks on display…

Watching folks pounding fresh mochi…

…and taking in the aroma of freshly roasted chestnuts.

However, I didn’t even want to guess what these might be, but I have my suspicions.

Tokyo’s Tsukiji Market was overwhelming, but in a good way; I’ve never seen so much ahi before in my life.

And although the tuna auction was closed to the public on the day that I went…

I still saw plenty of big tuna throughout the market.

But, if there’s anything I’ve realized about what I love most about markets, it’s not only discovering new things—but savoring them on the spot—just like my fellow travel writer, Margery, did when she two-fisted a fried-green tomato with a Portugese sausage in Honolulu.

Now that’s a market experience with traveling for, don’t you think?