I glanced at the date on my last post knowing that much time had passed, but had no idea two months could pass so quickly.  Suffice to say that life has happened in all its manifestations — some joyous, and others, far less.

At first, I gave in to the prodding of it all, enjoying a real excuse to not write, not take photos of our food, in fact, avoid climbing the stairs to my office to work for any reason whatsoever.  Then, there was a feeling of relief, somewhat like that I experienced on my last day of work.  It wasn’t a face down in the sand sort of thing, but still.  Eventually, I began to notice a quiet nagging that inserted itself into quiet moments, reminding me I had work to do.

So what have I done in the time that has passed beyond missing the people I’ve come to know and love who enjoy food as much as I do without saying as much as a how do you do before dropping out of sight?

Well.

After a lifetime of wanting to visit New England in the fall, I can finally say I’ve done that.  Starting in Portsmouth, NH, we traveled to Maine, Vermont, Upstate New York, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island with New Hampshire thrown in at least twice.  And we’ve done it as a couple after so many, many years of vacationing with children and others.  All wonderful vacations, absolutely, but there is something different about heading out with your sweetheart to see new places and things, enjoy great food, and good company — for almost two weeks.  The grand test in life is to spend time with the person you made all those promises to in front of all those people years ago on your wedding day and know that you’ll laugh, share a bit of wonder and worry, get lost a few times even though you have GPS, and squabble, yet hold hands.  Crying is in order as well if you’re anything like I am, for all kinds of reasons.  Oh, the sheer joy of it all.   The glorious beauty.  I thank goodness that I am able to travel and see where and how others live their lives.  It enriches me beyond all my expectations each and every time we set out to places unknown to us.

Then there is the post vacation, back to Earth recovery.

So much has gone on  it’s been difficult to care about writing about food partially because it seems so trivial in comparison.  In the meantime, I’ve enjoyed living life watching each day pass, busying myself with mundane tasks so I can mull over everything with the added benefit of seeming to be more organized than when I began.  It’s been purposeful and restorative.

But I’ve begun to feel as if I’m playing hookey.  Ditching class.  Hiding out to avoid what’s required, yet missing what’s important.

You know.  Work.  It’s important.

So here I am.  I’m back to work.  I’m searching for the words and trying to explain, hoping it doesn’t sound like the proverbial excuse written on the tattered remnant of a receipt left in one of my reusable grocery bags.  I’ve got recipes lined up waiting to be shared.  Lots of them.  And even more exciting — the discovery of a local farmer who delivers!  Amazing.

But life is like that if we take the time to notice, isn’t it?  Especially the very small bits and pieces.

Here are the bits and pieces of our road trip through New England.

After landing in Manchester, NH, we picked up our rental car and headed to Portsmouth for a night’s stay.  Originally, we were going to drive straight to Camden, then realized how ridiculous that would be.  Lucky for us, because Portsmouth is a very lovely town, and was all dressed up for Halloween.  We stayed at the Ale House Inn in the historic district right on the waterfront which made it easy to walk a bit in the short time we were there.  On a dark and rainy night, we set out for dinner at  CAVA  which is quite the wonderful restaurant — especially if you are able to sit at the bar and watch Chef Sessler prepare your food.

We immediately enjoyed the warmth and busy atmosphere of the restaurant, and on the chef’s recommendation, ordered his tasting menu.  Such a variety of small plate dishes and flavors to be savored tapas style with great Spanish wine — we enjoyed it all so much, I can’t say which was best, but the Day Boat Scallops, Pork Belly, Apple, Cider, and Juniper Demi was exceptional.  We left feeling the standard had been set quite high for the restaurants we planned to try during the remainder of our trip.  I would have liked more time in Portsmouth but was glad to have seen it at all.

US 1 took us up Maine’s craggy coastline to Camden where we met with friends and stayed several days at the truly wonderful Timbercliffe Cottage B & B.  From there we were extremely fortunate to have our friends’ thorough knowledge of the area to do many things, such as shopping along Main Street in Rockland where I treated myself to a locally handmade canvas and leather tote for my camera from Archipelago – The Island Institute Store,  a fabulous locals perspective tour through the back roads of coastal Maine, and an all day trip through Acadia National Park to enjoy the spectacular views from Cadillac Mountain.

We rarely eat three whole meals a day, if ever, but managed to do just that while we were in Maine starting each morning with a light, healthy breakfast at our B & B.  We had lunch at the Home Kitchen Cafe in Rockland (you have to try the Bennie Mac if you go — it’s ridiculously good!) on one day, and the next enjoyed lobster stew and popovers at the Jordan Pond House Restaurant in the national park.  Our evening meals were all excellent, and in one case, an interesting experience as well.  Since we had reservations for Primo our second night in Maine, our friend said she wanted us to experience a bit of local color our first evening out.   When you live in a large city like San Diego, it seems there aren’t many places where it gets truly dark at night, so driving along the peninsulas through the woods often at the water’s edge provided us with a real idea of just how dark the dark of night can be.   When we pulled up to a small, unmarked building at a fork in the road, I wondered why we were stopping.  Other than a porch light near the door and a few cars parked around it, the building seemed empty until the door opened and we stepped into the small, inviting atmosphere of a pub whose walls and ceiling were lined with colorful lobster floats.  Burgers, sweet potato fries, a great bar, and lots of people around tables pushed together to accommodate the crowd and great conversation made this a memorable evening.  Shepherd’s Pie in Rockland on our last evening in Maine hit the spot after our all day outing, but how can anyone be unhappy with a pork belly sandwich?

When I think of our time in Maine, I know it wouldn’t have been quite the same experience without the efforts of our friend Anne who knows everything there is to know about Maine, and truly needs to be in the travel business!

The road to Stowe, Vermont was a very, very long one, but absolutely beautiful.  I’ve never seen so many barns and churches with white steeples in my life.  And although many of you who live in New England cautioned us that we’d be past peak in viewing the Fall leaves, we were lucky to see many along our way.

We stayed at the Green Mountain Inn on Main St. in Stowe and after checking in,  walked to Mr. Pickwick’s Gastropub for dinner our first evening. We had the uncanny experience of finding our waiter had lived in our area of San Diego for several years so we enjoyed talking with him while we were there.  The food and the interior of the pub had me thinking we were in England again, but the Beach Boys playing in the background was a bit strange if not funny — especially in Vermont.

The next morning, we rented bikes and enjoyed a long ride on the recreation path — more than a 10-mile round trip our bodies were sorely in need of.  I think it was one of my favorite days on the trip.

 An onion tart and a couple of pints at the inn’s Whip Bar and Grill for lunch hit the spot after our bike ride, but we probably shouldn’t have had anything.  We had reservations at Michael’s on the Hill in Waterbury Center that evening and although the food was exceptional, we were completely stuffed and not able to eat it all.  Again, we sampled choices from two of the chef’s tasting menus and shared our dishes so we could sample everything.  My favorite was the Truffled Mushroom Tartine with Truffle Honey Gastrique, but it was all delicious.  At one point, we gazed into each other’s eyes across the table and swore we’d never eat again, after having to ask our server to pack a bag for us.  With the long drive ahead the next day, we decided snacking on the leftovers would come in handy on our way through upstate New York.

When I plan our epic road trips, I rely heavily on Google Maps for all kinds of reasons.  I peg each of the places we want to stay, then plan our route from the pegs.  To help us decide where to book a room and locate restaurants, I zoom into an area and then search for “lodging.”  Red pegs appear for the sponsored locations, but there are many, many red dots that appear as well, and if you click on them, more information appears.  It’s a great way to find some real gems, and once I have my list, I then use Trip Advisor to check out the reviews.  Finally I use Google Maps street view and “drop the man,” or use the little yellow man to see where the hotel is and what the area looks like.  Yes, I’m fairly particular about this, but it works every single time — meaning no disappointments.

On our way from Stowe to Cooperstown, it became very important in planning our route for a few reasons.  First, hurricane Irene had caused significant damage in the southern regions of Vermont, and I wasn’t sure about heading down into the area, worried that roads had been washed out.  Second — Lake Champlain needed to be crossed by ferry if we were going to cut straight into New York, and some of the ferry routes had already closed for the winter.  Finally, with so much time spent in the car, it’s always a bonus to have something beautiful to look at.  We aren’t able to stop much, so I take my shots from the car to help me remember what we passed along the way — and to keep me from nagging at the driver.

We did cross Lake Champlain at the Charlotte-Essex point, munching on left over Maplewood Smoked Pork Loin with Apple, Braised Greens & Cheddar Sausage Bread Pudding.  Yes, it was fabulous — even cold.  I haven’t tried it yet, but the recipe for the savory bread pudding can be found here along with many of Michael’s other recipes.

I had no idea New York was so stunningly beautiful!  Lush, green hills, big old barns, the Adirondacks covered with fabulous Fall color, and tiny towns that, if you blinked, you’d miss them.  We stayed in a lovely Bed & Breakfast, Halcyon Farm, just outside of Amsterdam. Why Amsterdam?  Let’s call it a half way point between Cooperstown’s Baseball of Fame and Stockbridge, Massachusetts where the Norman Rockwell Museum is.  Halcyon Farm was beautifully restored by its owners, John and June.  We had the unique experience of being the only guests for the one night we stayed, so it allowed us to imagine what it would be like to live in a large, old house.  John and Jean kept us company as we ate breakfast and told us about how they’d found the farm, restored the house, and barely missed the devastating flooding caused by Irene.  Lovely people, and a lovely, quiet place to stay if you’re passing near Amsterdam, NY — the egg and cheese omelet served for breakfast alone is worth it.

We arrived in Stockbridge after spending the morning in Cooperstown saturating ourselves in all things baseball, and counting our blessings that it was a cold, rainy day because we almost had the museum to ourselves.  A half a Cubano sandwich courtesy of Danny’s Main Street Market Deli in Cooperstown enjoyed in the car helped keep the drive interesting since we had to take the freeway to make up for lost time.  A bit of slushy mix on the windshield also kept our attention considering the nature of our existence in sun-soaked San Diego.  We love wet, cold weather.  Driving in it, not so much.  But we made it to Stockbridge with only one missed turnoff, and thank goodness for the GPS on the iPad which helped us find a different route.  Too late to enjoy the Rockwell museum that afternoon, we strolled around the tiny town of Stockbridge and explored the old rambling Red Lion Inn where we stayed.  Full from lunch, sanity finally took hold of us and we skipped a full dinner, opting instead to share soup and a salad and to spend the evening in the Lion’s Den, a pub beneath the hotel.  A fire was lit in the fireplace, and music began at 8 pm.  Wine, conversation, and scanning a magazine of real estate prices in the Berkshires filled the time nicely, and for only the second time on our trip, we were able to crawl into bed without feeling as if we were geese stuffed for Christmas dinner.

A cold, drizzly morning greeted us, so we bundled up and headed around the block for coffee and buns at a tiny cafe with a less than cheery barista before setting out for the Rockwell museum a short drive away.  The museum was wonderful, of course.  Norman Rockwell’s illustrations of life in America have fascinated me since I was quite young.  When I was in high school, I wrote to him and he responded, which has always amazed me.  If I actually had a bucket list, I’d say that visiting the iconic Main Street of Stockbridge he painted so long ago has always been something I’ve wanted to do.  Check!

Back in the car by noonish, we headed for Mystic, Connecticut, our last stop.  We’d nearly made a complete circle on our trip and after all calculations made, figured we’d gone about 1,000 miles.  We stayed at the Steamboat Inn which sits right on the Mystic River near the very unusual bascule bridge.  Mystic is a small town and very easy to walk around with a main street that has some nice little shops.  We were lucky to have recommendations from the staff at our inn for dinner the two nights we’d be there, and it was Mystic’s very first Restaurant Week to boot.   The Captain Daniel Packer Inne had definitely packed people in downstairs in the pub, so we opted for dinner upstairs instead — also crowded, but a table was available and two fires kept the room nice and toasty.  The long stemmed stuffed artichokes to start were delicious, and again, we should have stopped there.  Our dinner portions were large and we had to eat very slowly to make any attempt at finishing.  Good food, good service, great atmosphere, big portions.  Big.

We drove to Newport, RI the next morning to visit two of the Newport Mansions, The Marble House and Breakers, and do a bit of walking in the perfectly clear, blue skies forever, bright, sunny day.  It was hard to believe that in less than 24 hours New England was going to get slammed with a huge snow storm, but by the evening, the sky had begun to take on a steely look, and it was pretty chilly outside.  Dinner at Bravo, Bravo just across the river from our inn was very good.  Thankfully the inn made reservations for us as the restaurant was quite full.  We squeezed into the standing room only area near the bar to wait for our table, marveling over how many people were crowded into such a small space.  Once seated after squeezing between tables, we decided to go with the half portion sampling menu being featured for Restaurant Week, sharing the dishes as we’d done at Michael’s on the Hill in Vermont.  The Polenta Torte was fabulous and something I’ve promised myself to make at home,  and the Champagne Risotto with Lobster and Asparagus also delicious.  We finished our portions and were happy to feel satisfied with the great flavors, but not full.

Our flight was leaving from Providence, RI later the next day, so we braved the chilly, drizzly weather to visit the Mystic Seaport Museum in the morning for a couple of hours.  Again, no one was there, so it was easy to go in and out of the exhibits and talk to the staff about whaling (gruesome), ship restoration (interesting), and forging (toasty warm) while wondering about the impending storm.  We made it out of Providence just fine, and for the first time ever, watched the wings of our plane being sprayed with deicing solution before take off.

At some point in flight, an elderly woman was experiencing breathing problems, so the attendants asked for medical assistance from the passengers.  The pilot announced we were taking a detour to allow the woman to get off the plane and we were met by paramedics when we made our unscheduled landing.  The entire ordeal took only an hour and we were back in the air headed to Phoenix wondering whether we’d make our connection to San Diego.  By the time we arrived we’d discovered that flights were being cancelled everywhere because of the storm we’d just missed, but we were able to get on a flight and get home not too much later than we’d originally planned — sans luggage — which was delivered the next day.

All in all, considering this was the first food lover’s road trip we’ve ever taken, we felt it went extremely well.  Neither of us threw food at the other!  As much as we enjoy our road trips — we’ve taken two through England and Wales — we think that settling into one place, or maybe two, and seeing more from there would allow us to do what a man we spoke with in England called vacationing instead of traveling.  We didn’t know there was a difference, but we think we’d like to find out.

I’ll have some recipes coming in the next few days as I get back to work.

Thanks for reading!

Like so many others, I recently returned from a conference this past weekend, weary, but thoughtful, and most appreciative that bad weather didn’t hinder my getting home in a timely manner.  BlogHer Food 2011 was quite the whirlwind of activity even though I missed a party or three — and a pork crawl if you can believe it — enjoying the many experiences from others’ vibrant tellings of dancing, rockin’ loud music, and won raffle gifts.  Hearty congrats to Lori of Lemons and Lavender for winning a shiny new Kitchen Aid!  To be fair, I did arrive late Thursday after unfolding myself from a commuter jet where I was wedged against the window by a mountainous man who was happy to have my aisle seat for the flight from Houston to Atlanta, too late to consider attending the first bash, RockHer at the Hard Rock.

I’ve been mulling over my BlogHer Food experience and comparing it to the only other food blogger conference I’ve been to — the first FoodBuzz Festival held two years ago in San Francisco. Time got away from me before I could write anything about that conference, which had sessions only about food, and since many days have passed already and others have had their time to write about this year’s BlogHer Food, I’m left to consider a different angle.  I’m no novice to conferences in general because I’ve attended many related to my career in education.  Most of them involved work instead of the variety where the attendees crowd into rooms to listen to a presentation or watch a demonstration, so from that perspective, it was nice to be part of an audience to absorb something if needed.

I did absorb, because it’s a challenge not to when you’re me, and of course, I have something to say about my observations, which you shouldn’t take too seriously unless you want to.

My Top Ten List of Conference Observations:

1. There is something to be said for “being in the business” for more than a year. Before the conference, you’ve probably had time to make a few plans so that when you finally arrive, it feels like you actually “know” people.  You recognize them from various and assorted avatars and website photos, verify this by allowing your eyes to dip to belly button level to read the badge swinging from their necks, and yes, feel comfortable giving them a hug.  This isn’t easy when the huggers in question are packing laptops, cameras, purses, and swag bags.  On the whole, people were easier to recognize at this conference than at FoodBuzz where I recognized only three.  The exception would be when I walked up to someone I thought I recognized inquiring whether she was “the chicken lady” to which she laughed, pointed to the table full of books on display, and mentioned she’s on the cover of one of those cookbooks.  Thank goodness for people who have good spirit in addition to abundant talent.  I appreciate you Carrie Vitt. I really do!
2. Getting to the conference late and leaving early doesn’t exactly allow for time to get to know a city on any level. I didn’t leave the hotel for more than 24 hours after I’d arrived which doesn’t quite allow one to get a real taste of Atlanta, does it?  However, that spinning bar on the 80-something or other floor of the Westin Peachtree is quite the experience as a consolation, and if you’ve got a small group to enjoy dessert or wine with to rehash the day’s sessions, then it’s a good end to a busy day.  One glass of wine = 360 degree view of Atlanta’s night lights.  Cheap.
3. To share a room or not share a room?  That is the question. I was lucky to have had Elise of Puma Life to share room costs and am so happy to thank her for her graciousness in rooming with someone who is older than her mother.  Someone stuck on west coast time.  Someone who likes the light on to read before falling asleep, who tried well into the night to connect to the hotel’s Wi-Fi without having to pay and failed, and who probably snored.  Definitely.  Not once did she complain.   Nice person.  I had a room to myself for FoodBuzz at a discounted rate of $199 after thinking I’d have a roomie then as well.  Ouch.
4. It pays to familiarize yourself with the airports where you’ll be landing. Sure.  I know this.  Remembering I could take the train from one extreme of the Atlanta airport to the luggage area on the opposite side would have been great.  But burning a half-hour’s worth of brisk-walking-while-hefting-a-bag-without-wheels calories helped position me for two solid days of sitting and eating.  Not.  I mentioned to the cab driver that Atlanta must have the biggest airport on the planet, and he responded, “You didn’t take the train?”  No.  I’m just a stupid tourist happy to not have worn the silly wedgies she purchased on a whim which would have left her feet howling in pain and leaving a trail of blood from the airport to the hotel.
5. On sessions.I truly enjoyed “Branding and Design 101 for Food Bloggers” by Sabrina,The Tomato Tart, and Irvin of Eat the Love.  My highly visual self benefited from the organization of their presentation and the examples these two talented designers provided, right down to the imaginary blog they created using all the methods discussed.  Very, very nice, and so helpful.  I also enjoyed the session on “Finding Your Visual Voice” and being able to understand, again with visuals, what the presenters had to say about their own work and where it comes from.  Stephanie of Desserts for Breakfast is particularly talented in delicately lighting a subject in low light conditions and the result is remarkable.  A gentle reminder to follow my instincts instead of shooting for traffic.
6. On panels in general. Most human beings maintain interest and retain information when visuals are provided.  Powerpoints are easy to put together, especially considering one can be emailed between panelists so each can add his or her two cents.  It keeps a presentation on track, adds a bit of interest, and sends the message some thought was actually put into the presentation and that an audience was considered. When a panel hasn’t prepared, it shows.  Any panel, anywhere.
7. Getting to meet great people and spend time with them is priceless. But my blog earnings don’t come close to covering the rest of the costs even though some can say theirs does.  (That’s another topic completely) Conference ticket — $350.  Air fare — $300.  Shared Hotel Room for 3 Nights –  $257.  Taxis — $75.  Food & Drink — $125.  Not cheap, and none of it is written off as a business expense, because I don’t earn enough money doing this to be able to write anything off.  Ever.  No, there’s no saving grocery receipts because I took photos of our dinner and posted it, or restaurant bills generated by reviews in the planning, no recouping camera equipment costs, or anything else.  I wince at the idea of it being an expensive hobby when it feels like a job on most days, but that’s what my accountant says it is.  So thank goodness for getting to spend time with great people and being able to afford it.
8. Sometimes, room service is a good thing. Skip the party.  Opt for a quiet hotel room.  A friendly book, some wine, and fried calamari with aioli instead of dessert which makes complete sense at 11pm, right?  Sort of.  Just eat half of it.  And speaking of hotel rooms — you can’t always believe what Trip Advisor says.  I’ve planned several extended vacations using Trip Advisor and always take what I read with a grain of salt because let’s face it:  some people are just high maintenance.  Unfortunately, I’d never seen quite that many bad reviews of a hotel, so called the hotel ahead of time just to see if they knew about the reviews. They hadn’t even though someone representing the Westin had responded to a few of the bad reviews. It was an interesting experience, and luckily, our room was fine.  The view was great. The elevators interesting.  The Wi-Fi, not so much.
9. So you’re not a spring chicken. It takes a bit of steel times two to show up for anything related to blogging as far as I’m concerned, because the average age in any gathering — on-line or in reality — seems to be about 28.  They’re sort of movers and shakers.  I used to be too, but now I only notice it when I’m trotting down the stairs.  Thirty was almost 25 years ago for me, and although it may be surprising to many, I’d never go back.  Aging gracefully has always been important to me, and I pull it off on most days, but not when I travel, so thank goodness for cosmetics.  They help take care of all the puffy staying up too late and smiling like an idiot all day problems that make Day Two bearable.
10. Admire from afar — or not. Maybe you’re not famous.  Maybe you are.  Whatever that means to you, don’t let it ruin your experience which, when you get down to the nuts and bolts of life, is what you make of it, right?  I choose when to introduce myself, and when to watch others do it instead.  I don’t like lines in general, and waiting in one to say hello is not especially high on my list.  I think it has something to do with my imagining what the person the line is waiting for will think when I, after 89 others, finally arrive, leaving him or her with glazed eyes and not really noticing who or what is extending a hand.  But that’s me.  When my two older boys were little, they would annoy one another from time to time and sneer, “You just think you’re famous!” as if placing a mighty blow.  I never really understood where they got this, but I like what Seth Godin has to say about it.  It’s worth clicking.  Wish I’d said it.

If I was able to spend even a bit of time with you at BlogHerFood in Atlanta, thank you so very much for that.

Many thanks to the wonderful people at Urban pL8 who served us fresh, healthy food from appetizers to dessert on Saturday evening.  Paleo, vegan, gluten-free — it was all delicious!

Photo of our dinner group at Urban pL8 in Atlanta courtesy of Liz of Meal Makeover Moms.

At Terrace for breakfast courtesy of Joe at Meebo

At the Curb Market

I could have shopped and shopped

Lots of eats there

Prezzie from a friend, swag, and treats for me

If you’re interested in the lively discussion that continues regarding all things related to BlogHerFood 2011 and Atlanta, visit the following:

Katy of katy she cooks — “27 Things I learned at my first food-blogging conference.”

Kalyn of Kalyn’s Kitchen — “Friday Night Photos:  Farmer’s Market Envy and Thoughts on BlogHer Food 2011″

Irvin of Eat the Love — “BlogHer Food 2011 in Atlanta Recap (with links)”

Veron of Kitchen Musings – “Quick recap of Blogherfood 11″

Susan of Sticky Gooey Creamy Chewy – “45 Stories High”

Lana of Bibberche — “Gone with the Wine”

Heather of Southern Pink Lemonade — “BlogHer Food 2011 Recap”

Sues & Chels of We are not Martha — “BlogHer Food 2011″

Andrea of Andrea Meyers — “Atlanta Botanical Garden”

Jeanette of Jeanette’s Healthy Living — “Blogging Friends and BlogHer Food Atlanta 2011 Recap”

Valerie of Bon Vivant — “I Came…I Saw…I Conquered”

Kimberly of Poor Girl Eats Well – “BlogHer Food “11″

Everywhere I venture there are signs of Fall insinuating themselves on a not quite ready me, unusual because it’s my favorite season.  I’ll blame it on our non-summer, my excessive indulgence on vacation planning, and the trip itself which deposited me willing or not smack on November first’s doorstep.  It’s disorienting missing Halloween to find grocery stores “big buy” areas brimming with typical displays of canned pumpkin, canned cranberries, canned corn, canned green beans, and canned gravy of all things. Did I mention canned?   Refreshingly, each website I’ve visited, a welcome assist in my recovery from jet lag — I swear it takes longer the older I become –  is sporting new recipes for stuffing, a new twist on pumpkin bread, spicy cranberry relish, and yes, green bean casserole — all made with fresh ingredients.

Not quite there myself, I’ve been caught up in a rekindled love affair with England remembering the best of our recent two-week trip.  Of course the best of anything will include food — savory pot pies in particular.  This wasn’t a trip planned to seek out sleek restaurants or exclusive menus.  Instead we wanted to visit the markets, purchase what we could to make a few meals when a kitchen was available, and enjoy a few pubs or tea rooms along the way.  From what we’ve been able to estimate, “the way” was close to 1,000 miles and included a high speed train, not so high speed trains, a taxi or two, and a Saab station wagon packed to the gills with luggage that seemed to grow in the night.  Not included in our miles covered were myriad trips on the Underground while we were in London, an open air tour bus ride that we never quite mastered the art of hopping on and off of, a Thames river boat cruise, and some walking.  Actually lots of walking, which explains why one is able to lose a few pounds on a vacation diet utterly lacking anything green.

It was completely delicious.

We were treated to moody grey skies, a few rainy days, freezing mornings complete with frost, and warmer sunny days with blue skies forever.  In other words, the weather was perfect!

We enjoyed the relentless energy of London, the vibrancy of York, Cambridge in all its Fall glory, and so many towns and villages from nearly all regions of the country, you’re lucky this is only a smidgen of the shots I took.

Although we did have some time to shop, often we had to settle for admiring a window display.  A good thing, too, because we may have had to roll ourselves back home if we’d stopped in to sample as much as I wanted.

Baked goods and tempting sweets weren’t the only offerings I found myself lusting after, with signs most everywhere touting “local” and “fresh” posted with shops selling cheese, poultry, and game since hunting season had just begun.  And yes, we could hear the sound of shotguns in woods when we were near enough, wondering at first if it was something else, prompting my ever vigilant numbers oriented husband to begin timing them, because surely, they couldn’t be gun shots, could they?  Yes, dear, they could be.

The open air markets showcased a variety of products in addition to vegetables and fruit, and at a cost much less than what we are used to.  We didn’t purchase the Haggis at Lambournes in Stow-on-the-Wold, but we did sample a delicious wedge of nice Yorkshire Wensleydale outside of Henshelwoods Deli in York and had the pleasure of meeting a British couple who used to own a travel company featuring walking tours.  Asking what type of cheese we were nibbling on, the woman put us to a quiz. “You do know who likes Wensleydale, don’t you?” to which we responded in unison, “Wallace and Gromit!”

And yes, we cooked.  Not always easy in a vacation rental, but it forces one to be creative, using only the basics — like salt.   Cooking two breakfasts and one dinner gave our wallets a welcome rest and allowed us to try our hand at a traditional English breakfast, even though chicken apple “bonfire bangers” may not be traditional.

The kitchen in our “cottage” rental, which was a two-story portion of a meticulously restored 400-year-old home in Worcestershire, was well equipped.  It didn’t take long to realize I wouldn’t want to leave.  Fabulous hosts, destinations outside the focus of many tourists, and spectacularly beautiful countryside to be enjoyed at every turn.  Walking trails, free access across fields, crisp Autumn weather, and so quiet, the thudding of apples falling from the trees in the Bulmer’s orchard across the road could be heard.  We were in need of a few restful days in the middle of our trip, and this lovely place served that purpose.

We pried ourselves out of the cottage long enough to enjoy many beautiful places, like Bibury.  It truly does seem like the perfect village — until a tour bus pulls up, expelling its load in the idyllic setting.  We wandered through more quiet lanes toward the old church enjoying the drizzle of the day.

Some days were a tad more tiring than others due to my less than healthy knee and a few blisters, so it was a toss up about whether to have afternoon tea, or a pint.  Both presented a perfect way to have a seat and slow down long enough to process all that we’d accomplished.  Sounds a bit like work, doesn’t it?  We were informed by one person that we were traveling, as opposed to vacationing, and I guess that would be correct.  Hence the tea and ale, and not necessarily in that order.

We’ve vowed to return knowing that there are so many places left to visit, and figure that with respect to relaxing while on vacation in England, the third time is the charm.  Hiking is relaxing, right?  Perhaps by then I will have learned how to make sure my hair looks decent, something that always escapes me when we’re that far from home.

p.s.  I got to try a real Cornish pasty as well and can say that as good as it was, mine was a respectable second!

]]> http://www.sassandveracity.com/2010/11/17/travel-to-england-planes-trains-automobiles-and-food/feed/ 24 http://www.sassandveracity.com/2010/10/08/breakfast-salad-with-poached-egg-and-prosciutto/?utm_source=rss&utm_medium=rss&utm_campaign=breakfast-salad-with-poached-egg-and-prosciutto http://www.sassandveracity.com/2010/10/08/breakfast-salad-with-poached-egg-and-prosciutto/#comments Fri, 08 Oct 2010 21:26:47 +0000 kellypea http://sassandveracity.com/?p=1594

I’m at that place I’m so familiar with — the place where it seems as if I’m floating on a river lazily making its way to a point in the distance.  I could swim and get to wherever there is more quickly, or I can do what I’m doing —  floating.  Knowing time will pass and I’ll get there.

And then I snap out of it.  Like this morning.

Eight days before we leave for the UK.  Eight. After months and months of planning every single tiny detail, eight days will fly by and as much as I’ve questioned and searched and adjusted to make sure everything is perfect, I swear I’ve forgotten something.  My husband has indulged my sometimes nightly litany of hairsplitting with gentle logic and comments of support.

I’m sure everything will be fine, he tells me.  The other vacations you’ve planned have been great.

Yes, but…

…but.

I suppose I have to have something to worry about.  The one thing that hasn’t been a worry is thinking about what we’ll eat.  That may be a surprise considering I think about food all day, and given any opportunity to explore something food related, I will roll up my sleeves and get busy.  But when we travel, we’re more involved in the place we’re visiting — the history, the countryside, and the towns.  Of course, we eat, but there isn’t a lot of planning around making it to one particular restaurant or another, and I haven’t gotten to the point where I’m traveling for the sake of food.  I know.

Heresy.

For this trip, I have planned to visit certain old tearooms along our route, using Great Tea Rooms of Britain, a book I’ve had for years.  And with the help of Google Maps Street View, I’ve been able to see where each of them is, and bookmark a website for a few, like The Swan’s tearoom in Lavenham, Suffolk near Cambridge, or Little Betty’s in York.

Of course, we’ll frequent the pubs as we go, trying hard to avoid any kind of a crawl for dignity’s sake.  I’ve researched those as well, finding information from locals about what’s good and what isn’t.  Or what might live up to our expectations of an old English pub, like The Falkland Arms in Chipping Norton, Oxfordshire,  or The Shaven Crown in Shipton-under0Wychwood, also near Chipping Norton.  We might as well get some history with our pint of bitters, right?  They don’t just serve “pub grub” any longer, as many are proud to inform potential customers that only locally produced food is served.

As for the traditional English breakfast of eggs, sausage, bacon, tomatoes, and beans we’ll be offered at many of the B&Bs where we’ll stay, I’ll deal with that one with a great amount of restraint.  We’ve gotten away from eating a full breakfast, even on weekends, thinking we don’t need anything sticking to our ribs for an entire day, no matter how busy our agenda is.

Image courtesy Google Streetview

We are staying in the Cotswolds for a few days at the house above and will have use of a kitchen, so expect to make a couple of breakfasts with something lighter on our plates, and quite a bit more “green.”  Our day trips out and about through the old market towns are bound to turn up some fresh, local ingredients we can enjoy.

Breakfast, or brunch?

Don’t forget your toast points.

Breakfast Salad with Poached Egg and Prosciutto

The following quantities are for each person served…

1 hand full tender greens, such as maiche, butter lettuce, or baby spinach

1-2 eggs, poached

2 thin slices prosciutto

1/4 sliced avocado

slice of goat cheese, crumbled

1/2 c. small tomatoes, halved

a few pinches of sliced green onions

fresh lemon juice

extra virgin olive oil

salt and pepper to taste

In a large bowl, put the amount of greens you need for all servings.  For us, it was two good-sized handfuls.  Squeeze a half lemon over the greens, then drizzle on a couple of tablespoons of olive oil.  Toss lightly to mix the lemon and oil.  Divide the greens evenly between the plates.  Add the tomatoes and the avocado slices, then layer on the prosciutto.

To poach the eggs, heat 3-inches of water in a large lidded skillet over high heat.  While the water is heating, crack each egg into a small ramekin or tea cup and set them next to the pan of water.  When the water boils, add 1 T of white vinegar (to help keep the whites together) and a pinch of salt.

Carefully slide each egg into the water by lowering the ramekin slightly into the water being careful not to burn yourself.  Put the lid on the pan, turn off the heat, and set a timer for 3 minutes.

When the time is up, gently remove each egg with a slotted spoon, allowing it to drain a bit before placing it on the salad.  Crumble over some of the goat cheese, a few green onions, and season with salt and pepper.

Serve immediately, and enjoy by cutting into that egg and mixing all the great flavors together.

Notes:

• A far cry from a traditional “full” English breakfast, but in my fascination with British food, I have seen eggs over many dishes, so maybe it’s not too far off.  In fact Jamie Oliver makes a similar salad that is one of my all time favorites, and it has a poached egg over it with garlic croutons as well.
• We enjoyed this on a quiet Sunday morning and loved every bit of it.  All that delicious warm yolk oozes into the greens, and creates an amazing blend of flavors with the lemon, avocado, and tomato.  Oh.  My.  We agreed it would be great for dinner as well.  It’s light, and not nearly as calorie laden as an average Sunday breakfast.
• Have fun mixing your favorite greens.  I love arugula so know that would taste very good, but the baby spinach we used was perfect.
• Instead of prosciutto, use pancetta, good old bacon, or ham.  Or if leave the meat out.  The salad would still be delicious.
• The tomatoes I used for this (Violet Jaspar Cherry) were the last of my meager harvest, this second year of experimenting with growing them in pots.  Just wait until next year!
• Freshly shaved Parmesan would be tasty on this salad instead of the goat cheese, but Feta would be delicious.
• Next time, perhaps a few artichoke hearts would be nice in the mix, and a few sun-dried tomatoes instead of fresh.
• Sauteed mushrooms?  Mmm…

With most of the rest of the country sweltering in record temperatures, we’ve yet to see any real sunshine or warmth for more than a couple of days at a time this summer.  Although I’m not one to complain too loudly about it, generally content to be in my house or pottering around on the patio regardless of the weather, my husband is quite the opposite.  As in past years, he collected our youngest and a favorite cousin to hit the road for a guys-only adventure, first to San Francisco for the expected tourist destinations and a college dorm tour fit in for my son, and then to Sacramento for some wild and crazy white water rafting.  I was left with several days of solitude, chick flicks on a whim, and the promise of a few days in Las Vegas upon their return.

It’s been years since we visited Las Vegas in the dead of summer, preferring Fall with its football-betting fan-packed sports books and the more cost effective shopping over feeding slot machines.  The 110 degree heat quickly reminded us that our cool temperatures and grey July skies aren’t all that bad unless one enjoys searing, dry heat, especially intense when one is standing on street corners amongst the masses waiting for traffic lights to change.   Thank goodness for cool casino breaks, taxis, a cushy hotel room at the Mirage and fabulous food.

We like to try at least one new restaurant when we visit and this time, were able to try one that’s been on my list for a while; Joel Robuchon’s L’Atelier in the MGM Grand.  The red and black decor is swanky, and bar seating allows for an on-going view of all the kitchen goings on.  We indulged ourselves with the seasonal tasting menu and wine pairings.  From the L’Amuse-Bouche of avocado and cilantro grapefruit gelee, to the selection of cheeses and the smoked foie gras terrine layered with caramelized eel, the meal was truly exceptional.

And then there were the potatoes.  Saying they were mashed doesn’t quite cut it.  I wondered just how much butter had been incorporated into them to make us want to linger over each small spoon full, savoring it much like one would a popsicle on a warm day.  Well, maybe not quite like that, but you get the idea, right?  The potatoes stayed with us, as in, “Those potatoes…” muttered by one of us in the middle of something completely unrelated, like wound-licking after losing all of the 4,000 penny winnings from the royal flush because that’s what one does in Vegas.  “Mmmm…those potatoes…” I vowed to make them once we were home.

But it was banana cream pie that became an unexpected focus of our trip this year, in spite of the potatoes.  The banana cream pie seen on a deli menu very late one evening when we shouldn’t have been eating to begin with.  Banana cream pie my husband wanted but never ordered, instead of a light dinner with a bit of protein and vegetables.  Just banana cream pie and a glass of milk.  Joel Robuchon’s perfectly plated assortment of four lovely sorbets and decadent array of luscious tarts weren’t enough to keep banana cream pie out of his head, and that’s saying quite a bit.  I swear he asked the waiter if perhaps they had banana cream pie.

Of course I made banana cream pie for him almost as soon as we were home — but not until I’d made the potatoes.  “Oh, those potatoes…”

Banana Cream Tarts

For the pate brisee…

2-1/2 c. all purpose flour

1 tsp. sugar

1 tsp. kosher salt

1/2 lb. unsalted butter, chilled

1/3 c. water, iced

Cut the butter into slices, then quarter them and place in the freezer briefly to chill.

Add dry ingredients to a food processor and pulse a few times to mix them.   Add the butter all at once, then pulse until the mixture begins to form pea-sized crumbs.  Add the water to the mixture and pulse just until it begins to come together.  Add additional water if necessary, a tsp. at a time.

Turn dough out onto a sheet of plastic wrap and form into a disk.  Wrap well and chill at least 1 hour.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees.

Remove the chilled dough from the fridge and between two sheets of plastic wrap, roll it out to about 1/8″ thickness.  Using a round cutter approximately 5″ in diameter cut 12 circles and lightly press them into your tart pans.  Prick the dough lightly with a fork all over, then line each shell with a square of parchment.  Fill with pie weights, dried beans, rice, or pasta.  Blind bake for about 20 minutes, then remove parchment and weights and bake until golden brown, about 15 minutes more.  Remove from oven and cool completely before filling.

For the pudding…

1/2 c. sugar

6 T all purpose flour

good pinch of kosher salt

2-1/2 c. whole milk

2 egg yolks

1 T unsalted butter

1/2 vanilla

ripe bananas for tart assembly, about 3-4 depending on size

In the top of a double boiler over boiling water, mix the dry ingredients.  Pour the milk in, stirring as you go to mix well.  Allow to cook, stirring occasionally, until it is thickened.  Cover it and cook for an additional 10 minutes, continuing to stir it occasionally.

In a small bowl, beat the two egg yolks well, and add a spoon or two of the milk mixture, stirring quickly to incorporate.  Add the egg mixture back to the pot and mix well.  Turn the heat down under the water and allow the pudding to cook for 2 more minutes, stirring constantly.  Remove from the heat and stir in the vanilla and butter.  Scrape the mixture into a shallow bowl and allow to cool completely.

To assemble the tarts, slice the bananas and cover the bottom of each shell to your liking.  After the pudding has cooled, distribute amongst the shells, covering the bananas.  Refrigerate until chilled, at least 1 hour.

To serve, cover each tart with sweetened, whipped cream and add more banana slices.

Notes:

• I thought I had the perfect pie crust recipe, but I was wrong.  This recipe is amazing.  Featured in the July 2010 issue of Martha Stewart Living, I’ve made it several times this summer and it comes out fabulously each time whether blind baked or not.  It’s sturdy, flavorful, and nicely flaky.  It even holds up with a bit less butter (about 2 T) which I found out the worrisome way once– I was distracted and didn’t put it in the processor.  So much for the science behind cooking.
• Speaking of food processors, you can make this without one.  Just make sure the butter is cut into small cubes, and get them really cold.  Spreading them out on a metal surface like a baking sheet or pie pan and freezing them works well.  Using a pinching motion, incorporate the butter into the dry ingredients until the mixture resembles a coarse meal, then add the water and toss the mixture lightly with a fork until it begins to form a clump.  It shouldn’t be wet or sticky when it’s done.  Continue with the recipe as written above.
• The pate brisee recipe is enough for about 12 tarts, but I halved it to make six and froze the remainder.  The pudding recipe makes enough for six generously filled tarts, so if you want 12, then double it, or put less pudding in the shells and more bananas.  First science, then math.
• I like to use one of those muffin top pans for tarts when I don’t have the patience to press the dough into all those little curves on my traditional tart pans.  It’s a shallow muffin tin.  Once baked, I cool the shells right in the pan, then complete the process on a rack.  They come right out using an off set spatula and a steady hand.
• If you want to make things ahead for quick assembly later, make sure to cool the pudding at room temperature completely, then place a piece of plastic wrap directly on the surface of the pudding before refrigeration.  It will keep over night.  I filled the cooled tart shells, kept them in the pan I baked them in, then put them in the fridge over night.  I whipped heavy cream with a bit of powdered sugar until stiff peaks formed, topped the tarts, then put them back in the fridge uncovered a couple of hours before we ate them and they were perfect!
• Just to be decadent, I’m thinking a drizzle of caramel and chocolate over these would be so delicious with a sprinkle of pecans to finish.   Or maybe a thin spread of chocolate ganache in the bottom of the crust before the bananas and pudding.  Or….I could go on and on.

Amidst all the news of the H1N1 Infuenza, I went to Mexico with friends.  I know what you’re thinking, but the plans had been made for quite some time, and after doing a bit of research on just how many had been affected and in which areas, I blinked once and then packed.

A good friend and I were dropped off at the border crossing on Otay Mesa, and we walked across smiling about the four bottles of wine the two heavily armed Mexican military guys asked about after checking my luggage.  It was in a zipped carrier and they asked something I thought I understood.  I responded cheerfully that I had vino — tres blanco y una roja porque es mas caro en Mexico — or something like that.   They waved us through muttering to one another, and with my friend commenting that she didn’t think they were asking about what kind of wine I had.  Clearly didn’t matter.

A quick ride in a white taxi we were cautioned not to use because of overcharging got us to the airport where a few people were wearing masks — mostly employees — but not enough to do anything but remind me of when the Avian flu was in the news years ago.  I guess if I was paranoid, I’d avoid getting in my car and on the freeway.

Ah, the things one does to take advantage of a $120 round trip flight to Puerto Vallarta.

Wait.  This is a food blog, isn’t it?

Yes, we had food.  And I have to be honest.  If I could eat the street tacos we purchased many times from the cart a block from where we stayed, I’d be a very thin woman.

We watched the women make the corn tortillas with a ball of masa and a hand press.  The perfectly round tortillas were peeled from the plastic wrap that lined both sides of the press, slapped on a griddle and then turned by hand as they cooked.  Smaller than the tacos I make at home, we all agreed that even though two were more than enough, we could eat four — or six.  Carne asada and a few beans filled them, and we helped ourselves to green salsa, guacamole, cilantro, and pickled cucumbers, carrots, jalapenos, and fresh radishes.  Trust me.  There will be reconstructed street tacos on my cooking agenda soon.

But there was other food, too. The first night there, we walked quite a ways to a small restaurant that only locals would know about since it was off the tourist trail a bit, and we were privy because our host had been going there for years.  It was a tiny place with a small menu and the six of us grouped in twos to sample and share what we’d ordered:  tamales, pozole, and thick corn cake-like rounds topped with meat and cream.  It was delicious and we left feeling stuffed even though we hadn’t eaten that much.

Walking through the streets of Puerto Vallarta brought back childhood memories of Spain and those of some parts of Italy from our vacation last year — minus the palm trees, of course.  It was hot, but no where near as hot as we knew it could get later in the summer when the rainy season began.  We were on a quest one morning to find a French Bakery of all things, and after trudging through one street after another, found that it had been closed for renovations.  We decided to settle in at a hotel restaurant for some chilaquiles, which were fabulous.  Yes, they’ll be on my cooking agenda as well, but I will sadly lack the high pitched, palm covered roof and open sides with a view of the water that was so refreshingly cool after our hot, dusty walk through town.

The second night, we ventured a couple of blocks to a restaurant where our table sat right on the beach.  Waiters ventured down to serve tangy margaritas and plates of tacos made of pulpo if we chose — and I chose.  Pulpo is octopus and I’d never tried it before.  I’ve enjoyed squid for many years, but somehow have just never been able to take on octopus.  I’m thinking my resolve was dissolved — or marinated — in margaritas.  Or pina coladas.  Okay, both.  The pulpo was very good, but if I think about it, I need to apologize and suggest it tasted like chicken.  Really.

Since we were all there in celebration of a friend’s 40th birthday, we walked through the town and up the steep streets to share Tapas and sangria at Tapas Barcelona.  The place was packed and we were fortunate to have a corner table with a panoramic view of the coast.  No windows — just fresh air.  The tapas came out as they were ready:  Spanish tortilla, grilled asparagus, sauteed spinach with raisins and pinones, more octopus cooked with potatoes, shrimp cooked with garlic….the list goes on and on.  Yes, we rolled down the hills to the beach after we were finished, quite happy with the meal.

All in all, it was a pleasant trip.  A bit of shopping, a few bus rides and then a water taxi to a tiny village called Yelapa.  We hiked through the hills to a trickling waterfall, then plunged into the surprisingly chilly ocean to cool ourselves off before dozing briefly on the sunny beach.  There are many palapas there where you can stay if you’re one who needs a bit of nature with your vacation, and I did find myself wondering if I might coerce my husband to come back with me one day.

Back in Puerto Vallarta, “cocktail hour” each evening on our hostess’s sun drenched patio wasn’t too shabby, either.  In fact, I think I’ve developed a taste for mineral water — especially after those Pina Coladas.