Brits and their Beer

This weekend, Jason & I traveled to Colchester to see Carole (Jason's mom, for those not keeping up with the family tree). On Saturday, we walked into town to do some shopping, and Jason managed to slip off to watch the ManU-Arsenal premiere league final (I think) at a pub.

Once we reunited, we did what all good English-folk do on any day that's above 50F and not raining (this day happened to be probably about 60F and blustery): we went to enjoy a beer out-of-doors.

You might think I'm exaggerating about the weather conditions, but on any half-decent evening, or weekend day after about 1pm, pubs along our street -- or rather, the sidewalk space fronting them -- are packed with folks just waiting for what might be a glimpse of the sun. (The insides of the pubs tend to be empty during these times.) Frequently the patrons are severely underdressed for the circumstances. In said 60F / blustery conditions, I wear a jacket, jeans, possibly a light scarf. The average English girl will be in a tank top and inappropriately short skirt for the occasion, or any occasion really. Guys in shorts and short sleeves. All just hoping for a passing ray or two.

While our attire may look out of place, we are quickly learning about the meaning of the term 'British Summer' and I for one am craving any spot of sunshine I can get. (Jason says summer is on its way, and that we should appreciate the nice April we had.) Now for what I intended to share when I started this post: As we sat at our picnic table at The Castle pub, the table next to us sat empty, save a half-finished pint. At one point, this fairly average-looking bloke walks in to the patio area from off the street, looks around, downs the half-pint in about 6 seconds, puts down the glass, and returns from whence he came.

True story, all of it!

16 nights

Hi and thanks for coming back after all this time! I logged on to Blogger this morning to realize that it's been 30 days (!) since I last put up a post. I started to flog myself and then thought about the last month. The past 30 days & nights have been, as they'd say here in England, 'a bit busy'. In the last month, I have spent:

4 nights in Istanbul
1 night in Rotterdam
1 night on Hayle's couch (NYC)
2 nights in Fishkill, NY
1 night at Greg's
1 night on a red-eye flight
4 nights with Mom & Dad sleeping in my spare room
2 nights in Maastricht
...and frankly, on the other 14 nights, I really just wanted to chill!

However, in the midst of all of this, I've managed to get pictures up from the exciting events you see above -- our Easter trip to Turkey (taking advantage of the Friday / Monday public holidays), Hal & Lisa's unseasonably warm spring wedding in upstate New York, and Mom & Dad's first visit to London to see us. Rotterdam was a typical overnight business trip (there less than 24 hours), and Maastricht was for a conference. I'll get those pictures up shortly, but they're only of drunk Unilever people and so probably not of great interest to the wider audience.

So, please check out the pictures, and I'll attempt to get some more detail around these trips up at some point in the coming 12 days, before we head to Florence for the second May bank holiday (i.e. Memorial Day). Don't worry, I do get to go to Rotterdam / Vlaardingen again in the meantime. Otherwise I might have Netherlands withdrawal.

(NB: Jason took his mom to Lisbon at the end of March... photos available for viewing!)

Tulips

I'm posting this for the amusement of my parents, but the back story is this:

In Atkinson, my mom grew tulips by our back door. Yellow & red. Every spring they'd look real nice, then they'd open up and look really creepy, especially the red ones. They looked like they were coming to get you. I always had to run past the door and into the house as quickly as possible to avoid seeing them.

She'd also cut them and put them on the dining room table, and I would sprint through that room with my eyes closed whenever the tulips were on display. Not sure why (overactive imagination), but they really freaked me out.

A couple weeks ago the weather started to turn nice here, which made me realize how long and dark the winter was. I had a craving to bring some of the budding outside in, so after a few days of debate I bought a bunch of tulips from the flower stall down the street. They looked really nice! They had luscious leaves that filled out an otherwise kind of measley bouquet:

AND THEN... one morning I came upstairs and they were all open! AGH!!! And I was home alone!

I promptly disposed of the wretched flowers, but I believe that the score is now Tulips: 857, Jess: 1.

Give me that fish!

It's been a while since I've put up a post about culinary pursuits. We're still having fun trying out new things, becoming experts at mussels, whole chicken, and we even made a pretty tasty pork roast when we had friends over for dinner recently.

We have a fish truck at the end of the street, and you may remember a post from the summer when I mutilated a couple poor snapper. I've found the secret to whole fish is... either get the fish monger to fillet 'em for you, OR bake 'em whole!

Voila! Above, last night's sea bass baked with fennel, basil and red onions. MUCH less messy than previous pre-cooking filleting experiements. PLUS when I put the spices and other stuff inside I get to sing from my favourite Disney movie: '... then you slash off their skin, give their bellies a slice then I rub some salt in cause that makes it taste niiiiiiice! Zoot alors! I have meeeessed one!' It's the best part of the total experience. I'm pretty sure Jason agrees.

Bon appetit!