"So what was it?"

It's a question I've been asked for the past 50-odd weeks ... by grocery clerks who recognize my name from a credit card, by waitresses and waiters and airline and hotel employees and bank tellers and gas-station attendants.

"So what was it?"

It's a question found in almost all of the e-mails I have received from readers of "A Fresh Look," the column I have written for the past year. I was flattered when then-Assistant Managing Editor Steve Massey went for the idea: Have a "newbie" (me), recently transplanted to the Steel City from a two-year "hiatus" in California's parched desert, explore the city's sites and sights, people and places, and write about them ... from a fresh look.

And for the past 51 weeks I have done just that ... adding a thousand or so miles to my Hyundai Elantra as I rambled here and there, to and from.

"So what was it?"

Everyone wants to know my favorite Pittsburgh discovery, the "one thing" (as one reader calls it) that has become my favorite among favorites.

So what was it?

The answer in black-and-white (literally): Simon, one of the penguins who live at the National Aviary. Who knew that plopped in the middle of a North Side park is the country's premier "bird cage," home to more than 200 different species of birds? And who knew that penguins have no discernible sex organs? (The only way to determine their sex is through DNA testing. I learned this during my aviary adventure, just as I learned that the aviary has had several requests to change the name of Simon's "brother" Patrick to "Patricia," but her/his name stays.)

I still smile, giggle even, when I think of Simon waddling down the hallway and into my arms. And I like to think that Simon remembers me for more than the raw capelin and sardines I wiggled down his throat -- when I visited him a few months after our first meeting, I brought along a penguin-crazed friend. Simon waddled smack into my friend's lap, only once removing himself to, well, relieve himself, before plopping back into place.

Man and beast don't get closer than this.

Well, maybe they do. Feeding the pack of pachyderms at the Pittsburgh Zoo was another biggie for me. Trust me: You haven't lived until the wire-bristled trunk of a 2-ton baby gives you a hug ... And I have the photo to prove it.

And that brings me to a beast of a different sort.

Also high on my list of favorites was my debut as an extra in the Pittsburgh Opera production of "Aida." I had nothing to do but there was quite the doings: I was (un)lucky enough to witness backstage hissy-fits and histrionics from heavyweight diva Stephanie Blythe, who threw tantrums and uttered such obscenities I was sure she would be fired. She wasn't, but funny how she got ill and missed all performances save the last one. (I made a bet with certain Pittsburgh Opera crew members that Blythe would not return to Pittsburgh for the October run of "Samson & Dalila." I lost the bet.)

Other favorites, in absolutely no order of preference: visiting Bayernhof, the quirky and somewhat quixotic house of businessman Charles B. Brown III that, with its indoor swimming pool and waterfall, proves some people are nuttier than fruitcakes; making Smiley Cookies at Eat'n Park; discovering the sheer joy that history can be fun at the Heinz History Center; wallowing through one of Andy Warhol's Time Capsules; getting back on a bicycle and riding along Three Rivers Heritage Trail (with a loyal reader and her family); working on dinosaur bone "excavation" at the Carnegie Museum of Natural History; visiting the graves of the rich and famous at Allegheny Cemetery; discovering the beauty within Rodef Shalom's Biblical Botanical Garden; gawking in amazement (and horror) at the murals of Maxo Vanka that grace the walls and ceiling of St. Nicholas Croatian Catholic Church in Millvale; discovering the eight-scoop Super Bowl Sundae at Klavon's; weeping for the dead who came alive in the "Titanic: The Artifact Exhibition" that docked at the Carnegie Science Center; observing stars of the non-celluloid kind at the Allegheny Observatory; witnessing the glory of St. Anthony's Chapel, the largest reliquary outside of the Vatican.

If I didn't like it, I didn't write about it, and very few things fell into that category ... and those that did will remain anonymous.

Fifty-two columns? I could have used 104. It's a shame I didn't have the chance to go to a Steelers or Penguins or Pirates game, write about Lawrenceville and Squirrel Hill, row with the Steel City Rowing Club, visit the Museum of Photographic History and go ghost-busting with the Pittsburgh Paranormal Society.

I never got to all the places promising the "best" fish sandwiches and burgers, although my notes and taste buds remind me that (so far) Kings and Tessaro's top the list.

The most savory thing about doing the column? The wonderful e-mails and calls and letters I received from readers. Some found new places to visit (or revisit), some led me to undiscovered, hidden gems, some even found typos. I relish all of them.

So who knows? Maybe I will take a fresh look at those places I missed in 2008 and we will meet again.

Simon says?