I’ve just wrapped up a business trip to the UK, where I tacked a few extra days on the front end to visit Nilay and then a weekend at the back end with Tracy, before heading off on the second part of the trip, to Sweden and Denmark. It’s been a hard trip, but one also marked by some excellent meals and quality pub and bar time.
Nilay, a fellow foodie, drug me to Borough Market (located at the London Bridge tube stop) promising that it was a spectacular famer’s market. Nilay was right. I loved it, and convinced Tracy to come with a week later. It is not dissimilar to the San Francisco Ferry Building Farmer’s market, only bigger and more crowded.
Both times, I gazed at the vegetables and fruit and meat and fish on display, pondering cooking adventures. Ostrich steaks, with roasted new potatoes, asparagus and beets. Fish with a side of fresh rocket mixed with strawberries or apples and blue cheese and nuts. Freshly slaughtered rabbit, cooked with thyme and served with carrots and peas and buttermilk and herbed mashed potatoes, tied together with some type of red wine reduction. Or a picnic, with hand made salamis (rivaling Seattle’s Salumi), any number of cheeses, walnut bread and brownie for dessert. I couldn’t help but notice shopping lists in many hands.
I ate well during both visits to Borough, sampling from many stalls, bits of cheese and meats and other assorted things, and buying a few other things. Monmouth Coffee, which makes coffee a la Blue Bottle in San Francisco, hand dripped, using high quality beans. Freshly squeezed juices. Ostrich burgers. Seared scallops, nestled on a bed of ground bacon, bean sprouts and thinly sliced carrots. Wraps, with tsatziki sauce and couscous and a mound of sautéed veggies. And sausages, of every variety, all accompanied by salad and chutney and mustard and onions on freshly baked crusty bread.
Produce at the market:
Delicious rabbits:
Freshly squeezed juice:
Other culinary points to note about London…Indian food at a still being remodeled Clapham restaurant, which marked the beginning of my “I have to order saag [spinch] with every single Indian meal” trend. High-brow Indian food at Red Fort in SoHo (if you go to Red Fort, get the duck. Trust me). English roast – lamb, cheesey cauliflower, broccoli, carrots, potatoes and Yorkshire pudding united by tasty brown gravy. Mussels at Belgo Centraal. Vegetarian Indian (again with tasty saag). Giovanni’s, an excellent Italian hole in the wall, with a personality filled owner and impressive food to match the owner’s personality. It’s important to note that while Giovanni’s is in Covent Garden, it’s not easy to find, tucked down an alley.
I have three things to write about my trip outside of London, to Coventry and Leamington Spa. First, if you ever find yourself in the general area of Leamington Spa, eat at Wilde’s. I wanted to return a second night, only Tracy wouldn’t let me. We started with squid and chorizo sautéed with shallots and scallions, then mixed with rocket, and an amazing bruschetta covered in some type of rich tomato sauce and roasted eggplant and broiled with a generous slice of goat cheese. I demolished a duck breast, perfectly rare with a crispy skin, laid atop a demi-glace. For dessert, I had Wilde’s Eton Mess, a true mess of strawberries and berries and pieces of meringue, folded with whipped heavy cream.
Wilde's Duck:
Wilde's lovely Eton Mess:
Second, I visited a company that had the best quality machine coffee that I have ever tasted. I could choose from black coffee, white coffee, black tea and white tea. It absolutely made the iCup taste like swill.
And third, the London train system is a bit shaky, even when you take the privately run Virgin train. After boarding the London Euston bound train in Coventry, we were dumped off at Rugby Station a few minutes later because of a signal problem. We went back to Coventry on a standing room only train, and over the next hour, heard much conflicting information about schedules – regardless, it wouldn’t be a straight shot to London. We passed on the first train – there was no room for three people, luggage and any sort of fresh oxygen. We tried to board the second train, to Leamington Spa (from where we’d transfer trains to go to London) only to be unable to get on. The cars were full, except for the one we were trying to board, which was empty in the middle because a cranky old man was standing and refused to move down to allow other passengers on board. People, including myself, were shouting at him to move down. In desperation, I banged on the window, and others followed. Eventually, we started to curse the man, who refused to budge. At the end, I pulled out Shakespeare: “May there be a curse upon your house!”
A few minutes after the banging on train windows debacle, we tried to get our money back to take a very expensive cab ride back to London, and discovered that the signal had been fixed. So after all, we did take the train back to Euston Station. We did even better when we were quietly told that one of the first class cars had been decommissioned for all passengers…from that point on, our weekend in London was absolutely lovely, with a stay at the Hotel 41 and of course, cheer and eating.
About the cheer – much to write about, for another blog entry.
And one last thing to mention…thanks to a generous employer, I flew SAS business class to Europe. SAS business class rules, for so many, many reasons, which range from the obvious to easily overlooked. By comparison, United business class is, well, kind of junky. Oh U.S. airlines…why must you fail so spectacularly?
Pictures to be posted later.
Correction: I received a comment that the entire British railway system is privatized, and since becoming privatized, has turned to "rot". A Maggie Thatcher legacy...and duly corrected in the entry.
