notable meals, a Full English Breakfast, a Cornish Pasty, and Bangers
and Mash.
So after doing my laundry Tuesday morning, I hopped in a cafe to try a
Full English Breakfast. This consisted of toast, an egg, sausage
link, hash brown, mushrooms, and baked beans...oh, and ham. The ham
was great, the mushrooms and hash brown were as well, all pretty
common, but the baked beans for breakfast felt a little squirrely,
pinto beans would probably work a little better. The egg,
unfortunately, was fried, and, me not thinking, I didn't ask for the
yolk to be cooked. So out comes this beatifully fried egg white with a
quivering yellow time bomb perched atop, just waiting for the perfect
time to seep over everything on my plate. It's like an ink tag that
explodes if you shoplift, but no crime is required with the egg. It
just sits there, glistening up at me, laughing I would imagine, and
then telling me it's most reassuring voice "no matter what you do to
eat around me, you are inevitably screwed!" sooo I had runny yolk
flavored beans and ham and egg white and toast. No bueno.
Sausages and mash, or bangers and mash as they are properly known in
pubs, are basically sausage links served over a cloud of mashed
potatoes with a drizzle of gravy, and, at least where I got mine, a
bit of onion chutney as well. Very simple, very tasty!
And then there's the Cornish Pasty, which I pronounce "pay-stee" and
my lovely English gals pronounce "pah-stee" ...one way or another it
sounds silly, but packs some serious punch in the taste dept. This is
a crispy, golden, puff pastry much in the same shape as a calzone, not
the ringed sort, but the pocket type. Anyways, this pastry is filled
with a stewed beef, onions, potatoes, and cabbage. Imagine all these
stewing in a crock pot or something, and then straining all the liquid
out, then taking that filling and putting it in flaky golden heaven.
Most excellent, it's a tasty pasty!
My evening out with girls was nice, it really is unreal to meet up
with someone from another country that you've met less than a year ago
in a completely different country, and I've had the fortune to do that
twice in a row here.
Now that it has been a week since my plane left DFW (to the minute as
I write this actually), I've had some time to wonder how I haven't
been hit by a car here yet! Let me assure you that while seeing
evryone drive on the wring side of the road is most unusual, it's just
second nature when crossing a road to look left, and then right.
That's flip-flopped here, and has probably been the hardest habit to
break. It sounds simple enough, but every intersection I cross I still
find my head reeling in confusion at where to look, despite the
painted directions on most every road crosswalk.
On the other hand, I think I've mastered the tube, and how to appear
too Texan (except when I wear my ball cap). In order to look like you
belong on the tube, you must create a stoic, unmoving, bored face. Do
not look around, if you bump into others or they bump into you, see
who can pretend to be the most bored, without ever so much as glancing
at the other party/parties. If eye contact is made, don't nod, ooooh
man nodding is such an American giveaway, just look past their eyes
and if possible glaze your eyes over. Wear headphone, 90% of the tube
riders young and old, have headphones in their ears at all times, at
least in my observations. I saw a lady with two sets of headphones
today, one set in her ears, the other draped around her neck at the
ready. I'm pretty sure she sensed me looking quizically, so I resumed
my statue face and by the time her eyes were at mine, I was very
unimpressed, obviously thinking about important matters elsewhere.
Also, grab a free Metro, they're everywhere, and are the prime reading
material on the Tube offering small pieces of local and national news.
This is especially important in the mornings, when Metros are
abundant, it would be a grave and costly tag of the tourist to not
have a Metro handy. This morning, I read, in great concentration but
without emotion, a painfully long three-page spread on a cricket
match. Cricket...really? I kept my eyebrow furrowed and chewed my lip,
crunching the meaningless stats, praying for the page when it would
end. After a three page spread, I still can't tell you who won day one
or who performed well. Cricket...yipes, why not the Tour, or a piece
on American baseball and how Andruw Jones has hit four home runs and
had 7 RBI in two games againt the Angels, my beloved Rangers' rival
team? Later in the afternoon, when Metros are in short supply, find
someone reading one, sit next to them, and read over their shoulder,
personal space and proximity be damned! If you can do this, and
refrain from speaking,congratulations! You've hot what it takes to
conquer the tube!
As I mentioned yesterday, my itenerary has changed a bit, I will no
longer be going to Manchester tomorrow, but heading straight to
Scotland, as I found out it's a very short trip, 4 hours as opposed to
the eight I thought it might be. Also, after talking with everyone
here, they all recommended Edinburgh over Glasgow, so to Edinburgh I
go tomorrow, and then I'll be there until Monday morning, when it's on
to Belfast.
I must interject now with a food update...while not particularly
English, I just scored the best lunch of my trip and am back on the
tube now (emotionless of course) clutching my dinner for tonight as
well. Because Emily works in London, she suggested I meet her for
lunch today. We went to a market, Borough Market to be exact, and it
was there that I found heaven on earth. As we walked along checking
out the vendors, we saw a great display of pies (remember a pie in
England holds meat and veggies, tarts hold the fruit) that we nearly
went for, but decided to walk on a bit and see what else we could
find....good call...there was a vendor set up with two very large
skilletes, each the about as round as a sumo wrestler, with what
appeared to be paella. Upon closer inspection, we found it to be a
Thai curry dish, one with seafood and chicken, the other just chicken.
We both got the seafood and chicken curry, which had fresh mussels,
shrimp, squid, chicken, stewed potatoes, onions and green bell peppers
in a green curry sauce...all served over jasmine rice. WOW...that's
all I can say. Desert was a slice of Bailey's Chocolate Cheesecake
with a brownie crust. That put the "edible" in "incredible!"
Afterwards, with Emily having to be back at work and myself debating
whether to go revisit the touristy areas or revisit the market, I
chose the market...once again, a good choice.
When I got back to walking around, I stopped and talked to an Irish
girl running a cheese booth, who gave me samples of cheeses, both goat
and cow, with varying tastes, textures, and aromas. Yes, I had my
first taste of a creamy, smelly cheese, and it was remarkable.
Suzanne, the Irish gal, educated me ib the cheeses, as well as wrote
down the name of an Italian deli in Edinburgh that is 80 something
years old for me to visit.
From there, I actually visited an Italian deli in the market, with a
proud and happy owner who gave samples of fresh mozarella, a kind of
cream made from the mozarella, and best of all, a big chunk of fresh
gorgonzola. I know at this point both of my parents are salivating, I,
too, am revisiting it in my
mind. The owner of the booth, after doling out samples, cut the price
in half on a small roll of prosciutto, mozarella, basil and tomato
that i'm now carrying home with me. He also threw in several slices
of milano salami, more of the mozarella creme, and some kind of a
cookie. The world needs more people like Joseph running businesses.
And for a grande finale, ooohh man, how do fresh scallops sound? I
walked over to a seafood booth where several large eel were making a
temporary grave in the ice display, and noticed the beatifully
displayed squid, tuna steaks, fish of all sort, and bam! There they
were, stacks and stacks of fresh dived sea scallops...beautiful! A
lady in front of me apparently ordered some, and the fellow running
this booth took them over to a grill pan, and grilles them up. Then he
looked at me, reading my mind before I even knew what I was thinking
and asked the magical question: "how many?" And sheepishly, in a
trance almost, I held up one claw in a 3, and while Pavlov may have
trained his dogs to salivate at the sound of the bell, that question
was all it took for me to become an eager, excited, hungry (funny, I
was just full a moment ago...) puppy. Served on a bed of bean sprouts
nested in a scallop shell, with a bit of fresh lemon squeezed over
them, this is what food is about. The whole market is a wonder, the
jewel of London I believe, with fresh fruits, vegetables, juices,
meats, pies, tarts, handmade truffles, and breads at your fingertips.
A cook's paradise, for certain.
So with friends and the borough market in London, it is safe to say
I'll be back, maybe next year, maybe two, or maybe sooner, but yes, I
will be back.
Fat and Happy in London,
Bryan, the Lonely Traveller
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