How to Stay in Philadelphia During the Holidays

For years I've tried to convince my closest girlfriend to escape the chilly Pennsylvania winter and visit me in sunny California. Carrie and I had built a strong bond during our high school years in western New York: cheerleading, slumber parties, broken hearts, family dramas. But some of our fondest memories resulted from a summer getaway together to a cabin on a small lake in Canada.

Carrie's parents (who were waiting on the other end) trusted us enough to make the four-hour drive over the border on our own (at 16) and we laughed our way across the New York State Thruway. Ogling at boys in sports cars, we ate tuna sandwiches and popped M&Ms into our mouths without any concern for calories. That girlhood trip planted the tiny seedlings that later sprouted into my great love affair with the road.

Recreating that first experience of travel - the two of us eating and talking about boys all day (I'm single, she's divorced) - was something we'd both been craving. But as a single mom without family nearby it's hard for Carrie to go too far for too long. As such, I said goodbye to the bright Santa Monica sun and flew to the frigid temperatures and dark December days of Philadelphia.

Only an hour or so from Carrie's suburban townhouse, Philadelphia not only allowed her to be close to home for potential emergencies, but gave us both the opportunity to spend time in a city with which we were largely unfamiliar. I knew it was chockablock with historical landmarks and a famous art museum, but I needed to find out if it measured up to the girlfriend getaway essentials: indulgent spas, exotic food, and cozy hotels in which to waste time and oversleep. These are my only requirements.

I'm sure there are plenty of fabulous secrets to uncover in Philadelphia and if we had more time and were less focused on doing nothing we would have set out to discover them. However, it was cold and snowy and we only had 36 hours. I didn't want to spend it racing through one tourist destination after another. I wanted to eat, talk about boys, and go to the spa. In other words, I was focused on the dinner bell, not the Liberty Bell.

Greeted with a warm "bonjour!" at the doors of the Sofitel hotel in Center City, we checked into a suite decorated with dark woods and soft gold, brown and sage fabrics. The bedroom and the sitting room both housed large televisions, used only for watching mindless decorating shows like Trading Spaces and While You Were Out. The bathroom, which opened to the entryway on one side and to an expansive dressing area on the other, held the promise of a long bath, it's tub separate from the marble shower and equipped with luxury amenities and a tiny candle.

The Sofitel, previously the Philadelphia Stock Exchange building, doesn't necessarily qualify as "cozy" but once out of the long, wide corridors and into our suite, we felt at home. The snow was blowing outside the window the morning after our arrival and from our 11th floor window we could see it piled high on the rooftops of Philadelphia's skyline buildings.

Appropriately, the hotel restaurant, Chez Colette, employed authentic French servers offering a variety of breakfast foods including fresh baked croissants, baguettes and a wide selection of cheeses. Tres magnifique!

We spent Saturday traipsing through the slushy, slippery streets to check out spas and treated ourselves to facials at Pierre & Carlo European Salon & Spa. Located beneath the historical Bellevue building, it appears to be merely a full service salon. However, hidden behind a side door are a number of treatment rooms offering a variety of spa services. After a long flight and the whipping Pennsylvania winds, my skin was quite appreciative of the hot steam and cool, moisturizing creams and masks that awaited me behind door number two.

After our treatments, Carrie and I meandered our way to Rittenhouse Square, one of Philadelphia's most picturesque areas and home to many upscale shops and restaurants. We settled into Lacroix, the renowned new restaurant of Jean-Marie Lacroix. The former executive chef of the Four Seasons, Lacroix's upscale restaurant in the Rittenhouse Hotel was recently voted the best new restaurant in the country by Esquire magazine.

We found out why. After a sumptuous meal of crab cakes and roasted chicken, we were each presented with a small box of handmade chocolates made from scratch by pastry chef Frederick Ortega in the restaurants chocolate lab. Larger boxes of the rich, decadent sweet are sold at the hotel shop for those wishing to take home some of the magic but we declined, knowing that two truffles are plenty when you're already overindulging at nearly every sitting.

After an afternoon checking out Philadelphia's Christmas decorations, including the monstrous tree decorated with multi-colored lights in the courthouse of City Hall (TK), we returned to the hotel to laze about and later prepare for our one night out. Dancing? No. A nightclub? Not quite. More food? You bet.

Carrie and I had an 8 o'clock reservation at trendy Alma de Cuba, one of star restaurateur Stephen Starr's recent creations. Located just a few blocks from the Sofitel, the bright yellow exterior conjures images of Cuba, the Caribbean islands and vibrant South American cities. In fact, the cuisine is a fusion of foods from many of these regions prepared by chef Douglas Rodriguez, including an entire page dedicated to ceviche prepared in interesting and unique ways. I had the classic ceviche - raw fish marinated in onion, cilantro and lime juice - while Carrie chose an appetizer of steaming empanadas.

I stuck with light seafood options and ordered seared tuna as my entrée but could not resist adding a few grams of fat with dessert: port wine flan. It was creamy and smooth with a just a touch of the sweet red wine.

The dining rooms (there are three floors to this place) are decorated with wrought iron latticed curtain holders, warm red lights and soft white and cream-colored walls and upholstery. It's a nice environment for a group of friends or a romantic dinner. Our table neighbors, a young couple, opted for the latter and I couldn't help but soak up their enthusiasm when the gentleman exclaimed to his date: "This place rocks every time I come here!"

After dinner we trudged our satiated selves back to the Sofitel and dropped into bed. A bit of late-night chatting was reminiscent of those days 20 years ago when we could talk all night about one thing that one boy said in one moment. However, our love of sleep had grown exponentially since those years and we faded into a heavy, food-induced slumber.

Although I felt as if I'd been eating since the plane touched down, neither of us wanted to leave without walking along South Street and hitting Jim's Steaks for a traditional Philly steak sandwich. The place, one of two or three in the city that fight for the title of best Philly steak, was overflowing with people and we could barely squeeze through the door to get in a line nearly 20 people deep.

The line moved along quickly and we watched through plate glass as the steaks sizzled on the grill, mushrooms, onion and peppers sautéing off to one side. Slapped on an oversized bun, the ultimate Philly experience is to order it smothered in cheese whiz (you heard right, cheese whiz) but we opted for provolone and it was still delicious.

Later, bundled up and saying our goodbyes Carrie and I promised we'd get together again soon. This time in a sunnier and warmer destination where we would no doubt, eat, sleep, talk about men, eat and then eat some more.

Although our palettes had evolved beyond tuna and M&Ms and Carrie and I have lived drastically different lives since high school, we managed to recapture some of our girlhood whimsy. We'd come full circle - our divergent paths converging again to reinforce the strong bond that women so cherish. We created memories that, along with fond recollections of our Canadian adventures, will stay with me and nourish me in the coming months, be they dark and snowy or sunny and warm.