N: Nicest hotel you’ve stayed in:

I don’t often stay in hotels when traveling. I tend, instead, to opt for bed-and-breakfasts or small, independent inns. I like these for their character, their home-cooked meals, and the chance of interacting with other travelers over the morning meal.

If I remain in one locale for more than a couple of nights, I’ll rent “home away from home” lodgings. Paying a little less per night than I would for a hotel in urban settings plus having a kitchen helps me stretch those travel dollars for my “splurge” items. Staying in rental cabins, houses, or park lodges make it all the more convenient to stay closer to trailheads or remote beaches.

Hotels, though? The Banff Springs Hotel, one of the Fairmont Hotels & Resorts, was the nicest I’ve ever stayed in. It’s also the closest I’ve come to spending the night in a castle. My husband arranged for us to spend one night there nearly 15 years ago as the first stop on our honeymoon.

View from our honeymoon suite at the Banff Springs Hotel

O: Obsession—what are you obsessed with taking pictures of while traveling?:

Wine labels. Or what pro photographers call establishing shots. Both types of photos serve as memory aids for me, much like my notes when I return from a trip. These are not photos that I’d publish, even here. I use them to jog my memory for when I sit down to write about them later.

A sampling of wine label photos currently stored on my iPhone includes:

• Littorai, 2008, “Les Larmes” Anderson Valley Pinot Noir. Mike and I shared this bottle as we watched a parade of ants trail by at a popular restaurant on the Big Island in Hawaii.
• Arnaud Ente, 2005 “Les Santenots du Milieu” Volnay 1er Cru. A Pinot Noir, from Burgundy of course. We drank it at RN74 a mere few days after the Seattle location first opened.
• Clarendon Hills, 2004, “Romas” Grenache. An acquaintance I met at the Specialty Coffee Association of America convention in Portland last month blind-tasted the group who had gathered for dinner at El Gaucho on this wine. Most were certified coffee tasters. I was the only sommelier. Guess who came the closest to guessing country of origin and grape?

P: Passport stamps, how many and from where?

I’ve received no stamps for crossing our northern national border because I have an enhanced Washington State driver’s license. So, on my current passport, I have none. I’ve only been to Canada since getting a new one.

Q: Quirkiest attraction you’ve visited and where:

Two places vied for placement in this category: The Mystery Spot in Santa Cruz, CA and another California tourist trap, the Winchester Mystery House in San Jose. I visited both in my early 20s on family trips to northern California. All of us Neill kids were old enough to be skeptical of the “vortex” claims in Santa Cruz by then.

Missy walks the plank at the Mystery Spot.

Perception may play some tricks on the eye in the Mystery House, but who can resist tales of curses, ghosts, and a widow compelled to keep building 24 hours a day, 365 days a year for nearly 40 years?

Where is the Door to Nowhere? Courtesy of HarshLight.

Spiritualism and séance are certainly part of the Sarah Winchester story. But, it’s doubtful any visitor is getting much accurate history about Mrs. Winchester on the official tour. Like many attractions designed to lure travelers with the promise of a sensational story, her life has been distilled to sound bites easily recited by guides. And, just this month, with the announcement that Hammer Films was granted permission to produce a movie based on the legendary mansion, those ghostly tales may soon become even more dramatic.

R: Recommended sight, event or experience:

I’ve tried a number of tours and excursions in the past couple of years that were new to me: whale watching in Victoria, BC; travelling to and from Victoria on the Victoria Clipper; beachcombing along the western edge of West Seattle in search of starfish during a low tide. The one I recommend above all of these? Go snorkel with the manta rays in Kona.

Two manta rays feeding, courtesy of Mike Russell

S: Splurge; something you have no problem forking out money for while traveling:

I may scrimp on accommodations while I travel. I have yet to fly first class. What I will splurge on, every time, is eating a multicourse lunch or dinner of regional cuisine. Even better? Drinking like the locals do with the meal. Tea, coffee, juice, wine, or harder beverages—I’m game to explore through imbibing.

The end of one course in a multicourse meal, courtesy of Mike Russell

T: Touristy thing you’ve done:

Last month I played tour guide to Seattle for my cousin and his wife. They were visiting our area for the time and wanted to do some of the classic tourist activities. Of the lengthy list we prepared over days of emails, we did one thing together that wasn’t on the list. We rode the Seattle Center Monorail from the Space Needle to Westlake Center.

Monorail track exiting Experience Music Project Museum, courtesy of Dan Thompson.

1. Takes my breath away
Confession time: I did not take this photo, my husband did. If you look closely, you’ll see a tiny figure standing near the edge in the upper right quadrant along the horizon line. That’s me looking down over the Grand Canyon from Yaki Point.

Jenny looks over Yaki Point at the Grand Canyon.

2. Makes me laugh or smile
I snapped this moment the night before my husband’s first marathon. We took over the executive suite my parents had rented near Columbus Circle in New York City for a pre-marathon pasta party. I cooked for three marathoners: Tess and Anna from Scotland, and Mike. In this photo, the runners were switching the name panels we’d made for them. A silly moment before a serious race.

The runners trade names before the 2009 New York City marathon.

3. Makes me dream
Filtered sun breaking through the clouds along the Amalfi Coast during a stormy spring visit to Positano… I still dream of getting back to those beaches again.

Filtered sun along the Amalfi Coast.

4. Makes me think
When I came across this figure looking at an hourglass painted on the security gate for a storefront in NYC, I had to stop. Heart on his sleeve, scrunched over from age or to stay warm, squinting at the sand marking time in the hourglass held in the palm of his hand – this image still gets me thinking, concocting back stories for what led to this moment.

With heart on sleeve, figure watches the sands of time.

5. Makes my mouth water
My husband is responsible for most of the sexy food photos from our travel adventures, but every once in a while I snag some too, like this iPhone capture of one of my summer creations. We ate this salad of fresh lettuces, yellow tomatoes, blue cheese, and a basalmic-fig vinaigrette dining al fresco on a hot summer day during our vacation last August near Prescott, Arizona. Num!

Refreshing salad for a hot summer day.

6. Tells a story
This photo shows two running mates from Kenya in the Victoria, BC marathon on 10/10/10. While it won’t go down as my best photo ever, the composition catches their movement and the concentration on their faces. It reflects quite well the gloom of that autumnal morning in the Pacific Northwest.

Kenyan teammates compete in the 2010 Victoria marathon.

7. I am most proud of (aka my worthy of National Geographic shot)
I have a tie for this one. I’m proud of the first shot because in it I’ve captured what to me is a classic Pacific Northwest harbor scene.

Sea planes returning to Victoria’s Inner Harbor.

An award-winning wildlife photographer? Probably not. Still, it was thrill to catch a shot of a spinner dolphin fully breached while standing on the deck of our rental house in December.

Spinner dolphin breaching off the coast of the Big Island, Hawaii.

Passing Along the Challenge
Memes are fun for getting to know other travelers, so this post would be incomplete without passing it along. I’d like to see a “Seven Super Shots” post from these bloggers:

• Leora Novick
• Brian Neely
• Kat Burrington
• Mike Russell
• Dan Thompson

Edited to add: HostelBookers got this meme started back in January with their 7 Super Shots.

Intersection of Bedford and Downing Streets in New York City,
courtesy of Delusion Productions.

I: Incredible service you’ve experienced and where:

When I dined at Mas Farmhouse, located in Greenwich Village in New York City, what struck me as we entered was how well the space melded “country” with “sophistication”. The server and sommelier at Mas lived up to the expectations set by the décor. Fielding questions, seeking the chef’s clarification, and making responsive wine suggestions – all seamlessly part of taking care of our needs.

When it was time for food to arrive, it was delivered by multiple hands and achieved the dance-like delivery that many restaurants aim for. Our conversation was never interrupted as our water glasses were filled and flatware replaced for each of the several courses we indulged in.

The whole experience was one of understated elegance from being ushered back to our table to the moment our appetites had been sated and we were getting ready to go.

J: Journey that took the longest:

Keeping to the dictionary definition for journey of “traveling from one place to another,” the move we made from Boston to Seattle in the mid-1990s was my longest. It started on one end of Interstate 90, and ended just west of the other. We traveled more than 3100 miles to see friends and to take brief side trips along the way. It took us about a week to cover that distance and we spent nights in Cleveland, Ohio; Owatonna, Minnesota; near the Badlands in South Dakota; Billings and Helena, Montana.

While passing through Cleveland, we always visit Coventry Village in Cleveland Heights, Ohio. I count myself as one of many who was first exposed to various countercultures, strong coffee, and other means to alter mood and mind along these three blocks. Much of the architecture surrounding this district remains as it was when I was passing from childhood through adolescence.

Gone, though, was the grassy park on the northeast corner where Euclid Heights Boulevard meets Coventry Road. All three of the old haunts we visited on that stop have transformed, with one no longer there at all:

• The “Arafrica” (a nickname pronounced “ara-FREAK-a”), one of the first two shops in the Arabica Coffee House chain, is gone now having been replaced in 2003 by The Grog Shop, a concert club. Thankfully, live music still bounces off those brick-exposed walls. Before the ‘Frica left, I sipped on many sweet Mocha Cafes eventually graduating to gulping down coffee with cream. Today, I can still satisfy my caffeine cravings at a coffee “sanctuary.” Phoenix Café, is a few short steps away.
• Tommy’s Restaurant has been a neighborhood favorite since the 1970s. I was first exposed to vegetarianism and the notion that food sourced locally was healthier to eat at Tommy’s. My favorite dishes include the Spiced Hummus and many of the spinach pies, all of which got named after regulars who frequented the tiny diner long before I started eating there. Now, in its largest space yet, it’s still winning raves for its casual atmosphere and being vegetarian-friendly.
• Grumm’s Sub Shoppe has been making enormous sandwiches since 1977. It was the obvious choice when we needed to provide food for a crowd of friends and relatives who wanted to catch up with us before we continued the cross-country journey. We picked up some Grumsteers, a Turkey Ridge, and a couple hot subs for our impromptu “passing through” party.

When we left Cleveland, we still had a lot of ground to cover to get to Seattle in time to pick up the keys for our new apartment. South Dakota featured the rest of our more memorable side adventures. Though it was technically spring, ice and snow still made for slow-going through much of flat lands before we made it to the Continental Divide. We opted to spend the night near the Badlands, taking in the kitschy splendor of the Corn Palace on the way from Minnesota to the Badlands:

• We stretched our legs looking at the maize murals at the Corn Palace in Mitchell. This showcase for local farming started in the 1890s.
• We limited ourselves to a short trail walk close to Ben Reifel Visitor Center at the Badlands National Park because of my lack of decent winter hiking boots and that we had to leave our cats kenneled in the car.
• How could we skip a stop at Wall Drug to see the “world famous” jackelope? Reading the signs to and from this odd tourist attraction are half the fun of seeing it.

It took us another three nights to finish our drive. We had left ourselves little time once we passed the Badlands. Stopping twice in Montana and then pushing on to Seattle, where we have lived for over 15 years.

K: Keepsake from your travels:

My main keepsakes from most of my travels are my notes. Where those notes reside depends on whether I am traveling for business, pleasure, or both. Often I record what I experience electronically. I do usually carry a journal or a notepad for those times it is inconvenient to pull out a smartphone or laptop.

When caught without any of those tools, I scribble on whatever I have on hand: a printed boarding pass, a ticket stub, or even in the margins of a full-color tourist map. Those paper souvenirs often get transferred into my journal or a scrapbook for safe keeping.

L: Let-down sight, why and where:

The Tower of Pisa was the biggest let-down sight I’ve never seen. Construction was still underway to stabilize it the year I last was in Pisa, in 2003.

Leaning Tower of Pisa, courtesy of Stephen & Claire Farnsworth.

Our group was traveling on tight funds. The combined cost of parking two cars near the site didn’t seem worth it given this was a year that tours were either sold out completely or not being given at all because of the ongoing work. So, we opted not to bother going.

We were on our way to pick up a couple joining us for the next part of our adventure. Our route from Florence, having been strategically designed to avoid all toll roads, kept us on the south side of the Arno River. I tried to appease my tourist curiosity by looking for the famous lean as we sped to the Pisa airport.

Even if I’d had a clean line of sight, catching a glimpse from more than 3 miles away was just not possible.

M: Moment where you fell in love with travel:

Oddly enough, what leaps to mind is a Disney moment. I was 6 or 7 years old at the time. My grandmother was staying with us Neill kids while my mother and father went to Florida. I can’t remember all the reasons why I didn’t fly down with them, though I’m sure my parents did not want me to miss any days of school. It was still very wintry in Ohio when the official spring break holiday finally started and I could join them.

It’s A Small World – Venice, Italy courtesy of Joe Penniston.

Though I was a little scared to let go of Grandma Neill’s hand at the gate, I was more excited to take to the sky. A tall, smiling blonde stewardess took my hand, led me through the breezeway and helped me get buckled in to my seat. I felt “butterflies in my stomach” (as I described it then) watching land fall away from the plane during takeoff. My little fingers stayed glued to the window for much of the flight. And the pilot gave me my first set of wings after I went up for my tour of the cockpit.

As mesmerizing as it was to look out over the clouds from inside an airplane the first time, the color and lights of “It’s a Small World” captivated me even more. So much so that I asked to go on the ride again and again. I sang that song incessantly for days. That much younger version of me plagued my parents with questions about where the animatronic dolls were from, why they dressed so differently, and if my parents had met any children who looked like them.

It was hyperrealistic travel, the only sort of around-the-world tour possible on a Disney World ride. But that slow-moving boat trip, listening to those catchy lyrics, and hungrily drinking in those stylistic cartoonish images of children from everywhere else? Yes, that’s the time and place I caught my first serious case of wanderlust.

Photo courtesy of Mike Russell, all rights reserved.

I found it hard to limit my own enthusiasm for finding wine in Seattle while penning that post. In choosing which stores to include, I left out many others. The greater Seattle area is home to many interesting neighborhoods. Most have small shops with owners and staff dedicated to helping customers find what suits their palates.

I’m not yet certain how often or in what form I’ll continue this series. I can share that writing for Jennifer has inspired me to share more of my Seattle with you. In the meantime, if you have a favorite wine shop, let me know which one and why.

Self Portrait. Courtesy of Mike Pirnat.

What started out as an online correspondence eventually grew into a real-life friendship. Truth be told, what initially attracted my attention was that Mike’s wife Liz was studying wine professionally. I began following her progress and soon enough we had developed a regular correspondence, which led me to act as an unofficial winery tour guide when Mike and Liz visited Washington State.

Wonder Twin Powers, Activate! Courtesy of Mike Pirnat.

Mike and I keep up with each other mainly on Twitter and by reading each other’s blogs these days. Aside from being an easy going travel mate, Mike is a bit of a Python expert and Lego-obsessed photographer. Check out his blog to see the world through his lens.

Kat, of Travel with Kat, tagged me for my “A-to-Z of travel” on December 30. This seemed like a fun way to start 2012 so, I’m playing along. However, I’m not giving you all my “letters” at once. Instead, I’ll reveal my answers in four installments.

Without further ado, I give you my A-to-H of travel.

A: Age you went on your first international trip:

I was 13 or 14 years old when I went on a trip to Europe organized by my school. We visited four countries in 10 days: England, France, Switzerland, and Italy. I learned a lot about what I don’t like when traveling: moving every day, lugging bags on and off a large tour bus, and barely having enough time to find that night’s accommodation on a map before heading to the next planned stop. That I disliked those experiences so much is why I now prefer spending, at the very least, two nights in one place. And why I typically choose staying in smaller inns, bed-and-breakfasts, or rented apartments or houses over big hotels.

B: Best (foreign) beer you’ve had and where:

That prompt conjured a memory of sitting around a table noshing a Neapolitan-style pizza in Florence and sipping on a La Rossa from Birra Moretti. The beer had caramel tones with a slight bitterness that cut the sweetness of the tomato sauce and was heavy enough to match the creaminess of the warm mozzarella too.

La Rossa from Birra Moretti, courtesy of Bernt Rostad.

C: Cuisine (favorite):

This is a tough one. It’s a bit of a toss-up, so I’m declaring a tie.

I enjoy exploring what I’d very loosely call Pacific Northwest cuisine. I say “loosely” because really there are many ethnicities and fusions that fall under that umbrella. Some critics argue this is not a culinary category at all. It serves my purposes here though. Just when I think I’ve pinned down a decent definition for our region’s food styling, chefs here find some new way to showcase the products of our farmers, fishers, and foragers.

The Asian and Scandinavian influences, the American classics made from regional ingredients then dressed up as fine dining or down to be bar food, and all the other uniquely northwestern possibilities available in food trucks and restaurants from Portland, Oregon to Vancouver, British Columbia? I’ve still got a lot of eating to do in my own backyard!

My other fave is Italian. We cook it often when we prepare meals at home because my first love in wine is for bottles from “the Boot.” (It doesn’t hurt that my husband loves making pasta from scratch either.) Plus, Italy itself is a country with enough of a diversity of regional cuisines to keep me coming back to try new dishes for the rest of my life.

D: Destinations, favorite, least favorite and why:

I’m fickle and wishy-washy when it comes to questions like these. I find such categories to be way too broad. So, I’m picking a favorite and a least favorite from my travels in the past five years.

Favorite destination
Maybe it’s because we’ve had snow and ice all week. Maybe it’s because I could have sworn the sea turtle was waving goodbye to us on our last day there. Or maybe it’s because I am already figuring out how to save up for the air fare to return. I’m declaring Hawaii my current favorite destination.

Sea turtle, also known in Hawaiian as honu.
Photo courtesy of Mike Russell, all rights reserved.

Least favorite destination
Of the places I’ve gone in the past five years, my least favorite was Cleveland, Ohio. A trip back “home” can always be bittersweet, of course. I traveled there to celebrate my father’s birthday in July of 2009 but it wasn’t the company or the cause that made this my least favorite.

What struck me on this trip was the extent of urban decay in eastern sections of Cleveland. Hough and Woodhill never really were what you’d call thriving districts during 1970-80s when I lived there. But whole blocks where every building looked like near ruins? Dozens upon dozens of once stately Victorian era homes with peeling paint and sagging walls? Invasive ivy so obviously causing damage and deterioration? Seeing those depressed neighborhoods in person made real for me just how bad the local economy had become.

E: Event you experienced abroad that made you say “wow”:

I’ve already blogged about a travel experience that changed the course of my life in many ways. What I have yet to really share here is the “wow” moment that set me on a new path. For now, I must again simply tease you about it. It happened in Italy, on September 16, 2001. I will share it here before September 2012 rolls around. Promise! (Hint: It involved wine.)

F: Favorite mode of transportation:

My own feet. Yes, I know many travel bloggers probably think first of the clichéd “planes, trains, or automobiles” when addressing this category. But the more I reflect on it, the more this rings true for me. What better way to really experience a place than to bipedally propel yourself?

Stroll an ancient city center at dawn or dusk. Hike a rustic trail. Pedal a bicycle through the countryside. Kick those flippers through the surf while snorkeling. Swing and spin on planted toes, dancing at a bar or at a party. Snowshoe near the top of a mountain or through the backcountry. Yes, definitely using my own feet is my top choice.

G: Greatest feeling while traveling:

While traveling? How are we defining “while traveling” for this? That term reminds me of standing in security lines or waiting for the call to board a plane. It makes me think of getting from here to there, which is often my least favorite part of being a traveler. So then, what was the greatest feeling I’ve had while traveling? Connection with others. Those little moments that only seem to happen when in transit.

For example, I whiled away three full hours of a six-hour flight chatting with the guy sitting next to me on the way to Hawaii. Or there was that time a Russian engineer explained to me the differences between the English alphabet and the Cyrillic by sketching them in my travel journal. It didn’t matter I spoke no Russian. We found a way to communicate with hand gestures, sketches, and scribbles on paper.

H: Hottest place you’ve traveled to:

Without a doubt, the day trip we took driving around northwestern Arizona on our way to Nothing was the hottest weather I’ve experienced. We stopped at the Burro Creek campgrounds to use the rest area, surprised there were no other cars around. It looked beautiful and completely deserted from inside our air-conditioned car. A wall of heat took my breath away when I managed to push open the door.

Photo courtesy of Mike Russell, all rights reserved.

We never were able to confirm the temperature, though based on what we could find for locations within an hour’s drive, it was somewhere between 110-125 degrees Fahrenheit that August day.

My next installment will be my “I-to-N of travel.”

Becky Selengut and me at the Oyster Roast Shoot

Inexperienced with Oysters
Despite living in the Pacific Northwest for over 15 years, I’m still a relative novice when it comes to knowing what to do with oysters. I grew up in Cleveland, Ohio where you risked food poisoning any time you tried eating shellfish. No matter whether it was farmed or wild, oysters had to be driven long distances to get to us. It took more than 9 hours to get them from the closest sources at Chesapeake Bay or Long Island.

For truly fresh fish, we had to eat what came from the lakes and rivers near us. Eating walleye and trout from the banks of Lake Erie or the tributaries of the Cuyahoga in the 1970s came with a whole different set of worries. Remember the REM song about the fabled “burning river”? Yeah. That’s why I didn’t eat much fresh fish or seafood as a kid.

Learning to Shuck
It wasn’t smoke from a river that got in my eyes on that wet May morning. Jon Rowley, a familiar face in the restaurant and foodie scene in Seattle, was tending the wood fire grill roasting oysters for Penny’s Creative Live workshop on Food Photography. I was one of the volunteer models who gathered around that weathered table so six emerging food photographers could get field experience under her tutelage. That day new records were set for rainfall and I learned to shuck oysters in front of a global audience while Penny’s photo workshop streamed live to thousands of viewers online.

As we waited for the roasted bivalves to arrive, I confessed my lack of experience in opening them to Becky while we commiserated over the chilly temperature. Fortunately for me, she’s a great coach. You can see for yourself by watching the instructional video she posted as an adjunct to her book, Good Fish.

Penny thought the unplanned tutorial Becky gave me was good material for Kathleen Walsh, one of the photographer students. She encouraged Kathleen to push in on us. “So, I’m seeing this picture right here. …these two have a little bit of color. She’s showing her how to shuck an oyster, which is kind of sweet. That’s a great moment. That’s what you want.”

Jenny Neill and Becky Selengut as captured by Kathleen Walsh

My Modified Hangtown Fry
A number of months later, a neighbor gave me 18 already-shucked Pacifics. (He had eaten his fill while foraging with his family and didn’t want to see them go to waste.) I’d already begun working my way through the recipes in Becky’s cookbook, so I took this opportunity to give the Hangtown Fry recipe a try.

I followed Becky’s recipe with some modifications: I didn’t bake the bacon as she describes and I substituted a few other ingredients to save myself a trip to the grocery store.

Here’s her recipe (used here with the author’s permission) including a few notes from me about what I did differently. For example, I cooked the bacon on the stovetop instead of in the oven. My other changes appear in italics in the context of the original recipe.

8 strips thick-cut bacon
½ pint preshucked fresh oysters, preferably “small,” or 1 dozen medium-sized oysters in the shell, shucked
Pacific oysters are large. I lengthened the cooking time accordingly.
1 cup buttermilk
I used whole milk.
8 eggs
1 ½ cups roughly chopped arugula
½ teaspoon Tabasco
¼ cup half-and-half
Salt and freshly ground pepper
½ cup panko or bread crumbs
I crushed about a cup’s worth of salted crackers as a substitute. In hindsight, getting panko would have been the better choice.
1 tablespoon high-heat vegetable oil
4 slices good crusty bread, toasted
4 lemon wedges, for garnish

Crushed crackers and eggs

Lay the bacon on an aluminum-foil baking sheet. Place in the cold oven, then turn the oven on to 400°F and set the timer for 20 minutes. Soak the oysters in the buttermilk for 30 minutes in the refrigerator.

In the meantime, melt the butter in a large sauté pan over medium-low heat. Whisk the eggs with the arugula, Tabasco, and half-and-half. Season with salt and pepper and then pour the mixture into the pan. Grab a wooden spoon and start stirring. You will be tempted to turn the heat up, but don’t. If you keep stirring the eggs at a medium-low temperature they will produce the creamiest, most delicious eggs you’ve ever had. She’s right. This technique reminds me of the eggs my Grandma Neill used to make. It should take 8 to 10 minutes to set into small curds, but they will still have lots of moisture. Look for creamy, barely set eggs. When the eggs are done, place them at the back of the stove to keep warm.

When the bacon has finished cooking, remove it from the oven and set aside to drain on a paper-towel-lined plate. Drain the oysters and discard the buttermilk. Place the panko on a plate and dredge the oysters, coating them well on both sides.

In a fresh sauté pan over high heat, add the vegetable oil. Pan-fry the oysters until they brown on one side, 1 to 2 minutes. Then flip them and cook just 30 seconds more on the other side.

Pacific oysters, all fried up

Serve each person a piece of toast and top with eggs, 2 slices of bacon, and a fried oyster or two. Garnish with a lemon wedge.

I have no quibbles with the wine pairing recommendations of a white burgundy or an Oregon Chardonnay. I went a different route, though. I paired a sparkling rosé from the Loire with this dish, which amplified (in a good way) the sensation of tasting the sea in each bite.

I said something to Becky during the food photography workshop that warrants repeating here. This time, though, it’s for the cooking advice in her book not the assist she gave me with prying open an unyielding oyster. Thanks, “…you made it easy for me!”

Oyster Roast photos reused with permission, courtesy of Creative Live. © 2011. Recipe by Becky Selengut reused with author’s permission.
Full disclosure: Food was provided at no charge for models in the oyster roast shoot, including me.

Innochat, the one I played guest moderator for on November 17, focuses on the “what” and “how” of innovation. Participants have discussed a broad range of topics in just the past six months, including Gamification – the Future of Innovation?, The Impact of Information Overload on Innovation, Storytelling & Innovation, and Patent Office Logistics Around the World.

I chose to frame the discussion I led with some reflections on what it means to gain in translation, an intentional riff on the theme of TEDxRainier11 which I’d just attended.

International and Diverse
I’ve known since my first encounter with the Innocats (a nickname for regular participants) that they came from a diversity of locales. Last Thursday’s chat included Tweeters from nine states in the U.S., three provinces of Canada, and two regions of the United Kingdom. We also had folks from Colombia, Germany, and Portugal chiming in.

The professions and passions of the Innocats are equally as varied. Technology consultants, career coaches, creativity specialists, entrepreneurs, and even a jazz singer provided their wit and wisdom in answering the questions I asked.

Educational and About Education
From the get-go, the discussion was informative. My first question (“What would you do if you could do anything?”) elicited responses that included references to Zen koans and the paradox of choice.

I was reminded of many possible ways to open my mind when looking for new ideas. Taking a walk, playing music, even cleaning the kitchen were all suggested as ways an individual might shift his or her frame of mind. We also touched on the notion of getting outside a comfort zone be it through travel or by attending a class or industry event outside one’s own profession.

Another TED talk, this time one by Sir Ken Robinson, was highlighted in reference to the importance of transforming education to better prepare people to innovate in business and civic society. Robinson’s Bring on the learning revolution! challenges long-held dogmas about the way children get educated. He argues that it’s time to use all the tools available to encourage children to discover their natural talents and to develop those. Robinson’s principle arguments apply to adult training as well.

Our discussion again touched on Zen concepts with chatter about the idea that cultivating “a beginner’s mind” helps many professionals, even medical doctors, to keep learning. As an example of how one physician strove to remain teachable after establishing a successful practice, Renee Hopkins suggested reading Coaching a Surgeon.

Giggles and Inspiration
Gather enough Tweeters for a chat about any subject and soon they will attempt to make clever quips in 140 characters or less. Innocats are no different on this point and last week’s questions brought out some interesting references to humor.

Leave it to Kevin McFarthing, one of the Innocats from “across the pond,” to bring in a reference to Monty Python early on in response to my first question.

Setting aside mentions of Robin Williams and Eric Idle, laughter and comedy came up often in the back-and-forth banter throughout our hour together. As Drew Marshall one of the Innochat organizers so aptly put it, “I love comedy, too. It is a sly way to get to the truth of things. It can sneak up on an unwitting audience.”

Keeping It Fun and Creative
Our chat turned to vices like chocolate, scotch, and rum at moments of levity. Gwen Ishmael’s offhand remark about “reading too many fortune cookies lately” led to a more serious discussion. We mused about how writing fortunes could prompt creativity or be an innovative marketing tool, as it was for Linda Naiman who used some of these prophetic treats to promote a book.

Playing a game, like foosball or an icebreaker like “two truths and a lie,” was suggested as a way to prepare for a brainstorming session. Other ideas included involving a group in trying to solve a ridiculous problem such as how to cut the nails of a hippopotamus. Many described using storytelling exercises or sing-alongs as creativity catalysts as well.

We didn’t manage to solve any of the world’s more pressing problems. However, combining our suggestions led to one possible solution for shifting working contexts for children and adults alike:

A kindergarten set in nature with a focus on comedy and the arts with time set aside for Twitter.

Now, who is going to write up the business plan?

All joking aside we agreed that innovation practices, in business or philanthropy, benefit from:

• Actively cultivating a healthy curiosity.
• Listening fully and with an open mind to answers when we ask questions.
• Applying techniques from the arts to spark greater creativity.
• Maintaining humility in order to remain teachable.

A well-curated conference experience can speed up and amplify the process of gaining knowledge. TED (an acronym for Technology, Entertainment, and Design) is a nonprofit organization founded in 1996 based on an already established lecture series devoted to, as the tag line so succinctly declares, “Ideas Worth Spreading.” The non-profit now supports many offshoots, including TEDxRainier, an event produced annually in the Seattle area. This year’s theme, selected by the 2011 event curator Phil Klein, was “Gained in Translation: Ideas Crossing Frontiers.” (PDF)

Crossing language boundaries is one way that we gain a deeper understanding of a particular topic. But, as Will Hewitt so bluntly asserted in his talk about singing for 15 minutes a day, “Words are really flimsy messengers for the fullness of experience.” TEDxRainier11 speakers condensed into 9-10 minutes many complex topics that in a traditional trade show or classroom format might take a dozen or more hours to explain.

Challenged to give “the talk of their lives,” TEDxRainier11 speakers used music, video, humor, and audience participation to engage us. Much of the “magic” in ensuring the presenters were prepared was good old-fashioned rehearsal. The experts and artists practiced eliminating jargon and tangents in order to communicate clearly and succinctly to listeners from outside their professional domains. They did not disappoint and nearly all gave us a challenge of some sort before concluding:

• Culture/Rethink speakers encouraged us to learn life’s lessons, to avoid being “sorted” by technology while urging us to participate more actively in civil society, to answer the question “What would you do if you could do anything?”, and to not shy away from grieving about the horrors of the world.
• Evolutionary Change Makers presenters asked us to consider what having health care geared towards individuals (instead of populations) might look like, to spend some time every week on solving problems for social good, to listen to those we aim to help, and to bring home understanding from our travels.
• The experts and artists in Beyond Frontiers pushed us to stretch our understanding of the economics and science behind sustainable energy, to consider what we might expect from the third wave of the sexual revolution, to commit to the transformational power of daily creative practice, invited us to sing and dance with an audience from around the world, and encouraged us to “practice thinking funny.”

That last suggestion came from comedian Chris Bliss who spoke about why comedy can so successfully catalyze the spreading of an idea. “Every act of communication is an act of translation,” he stated early in his presentation. One of his premises was that effective humor uses deception based on fact to change the context of an idea. When it works, that shift leads the listener to find new questions and perhaps new solutions. As Phil suggested to me, we gain access to more fruitful dialogs when we “…leave room for the imagination, for not having all the answers.”

Questions for this Thursday’s #Innochat:

• To (again) quote Sarah Stuteville, “What would you do if you could do anything?”
• What tools or processes do you use to shift your working context?
• How do you encourage listening and understanding during the innovation process?
• How do you avoid the trap of “having all the answers?”

I invite you to join me for a discussion of these questions in 140 characters or less on Twitter this Thursday, November 17 at Noon (Eastern time). Follow the #Innochat hashtag to join in. For more about this weekly online discussion, visit Innochat.com.