Thursday, November 10, 2016

london calling. (and also, maybe a little ranting. you know the drill.)

So I woke up yesterday to learn that my home country just resoundingly elected the least qualified, most awful presidential candidate in its history. I'm embarrassed, ashamed, sickened, and full of rage and despair, that so many people could legitimize the idiocy, incompetence, racism, xenophobia, sexism, misogyny, lying, defrauding, and all other outright horrifying qualities displayed by that "man." Good freaking luck, America. We're in it now.

With the probable destruction of the free world--or at least, America's democracy and melting-pot loveliness--on the horizon, I suppose I should crank out at least one more blog post, eh? It'll make me feel more accomplished when Trump starts World War III* and we all bite it.

Today, this post feels rather twee and naive, but dangit, I've written it, and so it's going out.

Anyways.

In early August, I cashed in my "You said we could go to London sometime this year!" chip, and away we went for a long weekend. London is definitely in my top 5 favorite places in the world--ok, probably top 3--and so it's always, always exciting to get to go. As we arrived on a Thursday night, our first stop was dinner. Mike, whom I'm convinced is the luckiest person alive (and not just 'cause he married me, heyo!!), found a one-Michelin-star restaurant near our hotel that actually just let us walk right in, sans reservation. Unheard of. And while I can't guarantee that you'd have the same luck if you tried that same nonsense for yourselves, I can guarantee that if you do visit the Clove Club, you'll have a meal to remember. Holy smokes, was that food good!

We went with the shorter menu, which had only the mackerel, herb broth, lamb, sorbet, and jelly listed above. (Next time, we'll get the whole darn massive menu. Don't make the same mistake yourself: eat everything you can get your hands on here.) That "selection of snacks" was no joke; we started with an amuse of cantaloupe gazpacho with roasted almond cream; crab tartlets with crab hollandaise sauce; and buttermilk fried chicken with pine (hands-down the best fried chicken I've ever had...it's just too bad that we each got a single crunchy niblet and that was it). We also shared a cheese plate with various seeded crackers and oat cakes, and everything came with this marvelous brown sourdough bread and salted butter. Great, great, great meal.

The next day, after grabbing a quick coffee near our hotel in Shoreditch (ugh, such a fantastic neighborhood!!), we headed off to the Borough Market to find a little sustenance.

That turned out to be one of these salt beef sandwiches with mustard and pickles...

...and a massive ciabatta sandwich with spicy salami, ricotta,  and arugula from this tremendous little Italian marketplace that had the largest salami I've ever seen. (FYI, that behemoth is a fennel salami, and while I despise fennel in literally every other setting, I've found that in salami, it's a whole different, and insanely tasty, thing.)

Same store. THIS IS WHAT MY VERSION OF HEAVEN LOOKS LIKE.

Other things spotted at the market: oh, so many glorious cheeses.

And breads. LOOK AT THESE.

And pies. (Hee...so very British.)

Pimm's! How also very, very British. (We stopped for a Pimm's 'n fruit, thank you very much. When in Rome, and all that...)

And while I heartily disavow the misconception that British food is terrible, we did stumble across something utterly bizarre and unappetizing: I present to you "jellied eels." (Kids, I'm discovering that there are, in fact, a few supposedly-edible things in this life that I don't think I'll try out, and jellied eels is one of them. Nope. No freaking way.)

Hee...Swiss train-station clock in the Borough Market.

I LOVE HOW LONDON DOES MODERN AND ANCIENT SIDE BY SIDE, ALL THE TIME. It's just so neat.

Inside that little brick church-like building in front of the Shard, we found this place: the Old Operating Theatre Museum and Herb Garret. In the attic is, in fact, an herb garret full of mysterious dried herbs and medical implements and all manner of crazy, old-timey medicinal stuff. 

Like, say, this recipe for Snailwater, which included not only garden snails, but also earthworms. Yummy.

These poor Victorians apparently had lots to worry about involving worms, both inside and out. Here, a tin of "worm cakes" promising to safely kill your kid's tapeworm. (No. Just, no.) (But at least they put some effort into the lovely packaging, I guess...?)

Hmm...seems like a good thing to have on hand, just in case.

The Old Operating Theatre itself, which bore witness to a great deal of disgusting and awful Victorian medical procedures. (Anesthesia wasn't invented until 1846, so...yikes.)

"Take and be healed!" Heh.

Next we took a quick tour of Southwark Cathedral, which is right next to the Borough Market...

...then accidentally found our way over to the ruins of the medieval Winchester Palace. (I took this exact same photo at the very beginning of my semester in London in the fall of 2000. It was kinda surreal to stumble across this place again...took me a minute to figure out why it looked familiar!)

No visit to London would be complete for Mike without a trip to Fortnum & Mason. I HEART THESE LONDON-THEMED COOKIES.

Also at Fortnum and Mason, we found these insanely tasty jalapeno cracklings. Sorta along the lines of my weird-chips compulsion, I suppose, but actual meat was involved here. And how glorious it was! (Apologies for the rather unappealing photo taken after our post-snacking frenzy.)

Dinner on Friday night was a bit of a pilgrimage for me: since I've been dabbling in vegetarianism during most of our time in Switzerland (due to my stupid, angry, overwrought stomach), getting to one of Yotam Ottolenghi's restaurants in London has been a goal for a while. I'm certainly not a real vegetarian, and he's not strictly a vegetarian chef, but as far as I'm concerned, the man is KING OF THE VEGETABLES. We didn't give ourselves enough time in advance to get a table at NOPI, but I did manage to get us into a table at his Spitalfields location. Um...neither one of us would say that the service was exactly stellar, but THE FOOD. Oh my, the food. It's all kinda tapas-style, so we shared plates of seeded crackers with turmeric zucchini, pomegranate, and basil; Spanish ham with peppers and crispy garlic; broccolini with roasted red onion, tarragon, chile, and dukkah; roasted eggplant with tamarind yogurt, spicy seeds, pickled lemon, and basil; braised leeks with smoked onion puree, goat cheese, sour cherries, and almonds; green and broad beans with spinach and chile; and chile-rubbed lamb with muhammara, feta, olives, and corn. And here's how you can tell I'll never be an honest-to-God vegetarian: the lamb was the best thing we ate. Although the rest was nothing less than spectacular, frankly, and that's why there aren't any photos of the food: I was too busy stuffing it into my face. (Almost forgot: we split a double dark chocolate cookie and a chunk of flourless lemon polenta pistachio cake with a sour glaze for dessert. Which we took to go, because we couldn't stand the terrible service anymore. Very, very sadly, that's a true story.)

But anyways, eeeeeeeeee! Be still, my heart. (And palate.)

On Saturday, we had a lunchtime reservation at Dinner, but somehow wedged in a quick visit to Westminster Abbey beforehand. Naturally, across the street is this thing...

Oh, hello there...

...and then the abbey itself. Which neither of us had seen in about a million years. It's quite impressive, especially on the inside.

No photos there, of course, but the cloisters are quite lovely. (And also, do you know who's buried in the abbey?? Chaucer. Anne of Cleves. Ben Jonson. Oliver Cromwell (well, not really). Henry Purcell. Isaac Newton. George Frederic Handel. Samuel Johnson. Charles Dickens. David Livingstone. Charles Darwin. Robert Browning. Alfred Tennyson. Thomas Hardy. Rudyard Kipling. Clement Attlee. Neville Chamberlain. Laurence Olivier. Edward the Confessor. Mary Queen of Scots. Sir Walter Raleigh. And that's the short list.)

And then we had what I consider to be one of the best meals of my life at the two-star Dinner by Heston Blumenthal. Its premise is something that very naturally appealed to history-major/foodie me: "historic gastronomy"--historic dishes, the menu complete with year and place in which they would have been served--that've been updated to taste good to the modern palate.** Yes, please. Definitely. Right here. We arrived a bit sweaty and disheveled, having seriously hustled to get there by our reservation time, but the service was extraordinary nonetheless, and the food was nothing short of spectacular.

The menu on the day of our visit... 

...and each dish's source. Mike started with the lobster and cucumber soup, and I with the frumenty (however unlikely, I think that octopus has officially joined the exalted ranks of my favorite foods...!); then he had the Angus fillet and I the "chicken cooked with lettuces"; and finally, we finished by sharing the cheese plate and the brown bread ice cream. 

Lobster soup (top) and frumenty. Both exquisitely beautiful and holy smokes, so, so, so, so good. 

Angus and chicken (with sides of green beans and cabbage). Best non-fried chicken I've ever had, and the "lettuces" were divine. As were the sides. And Mike's steak.

Kids, this place is utterly extravagant, and utterly unmissable. The next time you're looking for a fancy dinner out (or lunch--so much easier to book!) in London-town, do not pass "go," do not collect $200 dollars...just go to Dinner. (Heh.) Fantastic, fantastic, fantastic

After lunch, we experienced a major fail in that we thought the V&A museum was open much later than it actually was (entirely my fault, ugh), and so dashed through a couple of amazing rooms...

...the cast courts!

...the metal-smithing collection!

...before being ushered rather graciously out. DANGIT. This was supposed to be the one big cultural thing we did on this trip, and I really wanted to take Mike there, but totally screwed it all up. Crap.

Next we trudged over to the Albert Memorial, which was one of my favorite places in London when I studied there.

From there, we caught an über back to the hotel, picked up our stuff, and flew back to Zürich. Best thing about living in Europe, hands-down: the proximity to places such as this.

Well. As I promised to relate the rest of our foodie adventures from the summer (and miscellaneous assorted other adventures as well), here goes...

Shortly after we returned from London came the always-ridiculous Street Parade, the ginormous techno-party which takes over the center of the city for a single day. It was nice to see that this year, not all of the food-and-drink vendors were exactly the same, as they have been in years past--it's not a festival you go to for the food...or at least, not yet, anyway!--and they even had a few little independent booths there, like our friend Jasmin with her French-Indian fusion food. But let's be honest here. We really just go there to gape at the costumes. Of which there are many

So festive!

Was too slow to get a good shot of the front of these angels, but man, were those some amazing get-ups. So much work went into those!

Yeah...so, it's always just a wee bit crowded...

I do not know what exactly is happening here, but I love it.

Next came a tremendous Chinese pop-up staffed by a couple of chefs from Kunming--apparently it's Zürich's sister city in China--as part of the city-wide Manifesta 11-contemporary art-European biennial thing that happened here over the summer. We didn't bother with any of the rest--too much London and Street Parade and Züri Fäscht to be terribly interested--but goodness, was this one little bit worthwhile. Weirdly enough, they called it ISS Hope (like the space station, for no obvious reason), and went all-out with the theme.

I don't know whether you could buy these cups, but you could certainly buy the wooden chairs emblazoned with the same logo.

Incredibly, they were cooking and serving out of a shipping container.

We ate some cauliflower cooked with ginger and chile; an eggplant salad with green beans, basil, chile, green onions, and something sour (but what, though...??); a hot pot with beef, cabbage, chile, and potatoes; and--the absolute standout--this fuju tofu, which (here) was fermented tofu curd cooked with soy sauce, tomatoes, and green peppers. Agreed, "fermented tofu curd" sounds awful, but in reality it was these super-thin, salty ribbons that tasted almost like cheese and had an amazingly sturdy texture for something so thin! And this stuff was made by these chefs, here! (Accidentally found it again at a glorious Chinese restaurant in Denver and am now determined to eat it every chance I get.)

In early September, we headed back to the U.S. for a very whirlwindy trip to the wedding of our friends Nancy and Eddie. Admittedly, it was in the middle of nowhere--so far north in Colorado as to be almost in Wyoming--but the setting was absolutely (and somewhat otherworldly) gorgeous; the wedding was beautiful and sweet and heartfelt and everyone cried; and then we all had probably too good of a time at the tremendously fun reception. (I'll just go ahead and state now that it is my heartfelt belief that if you don't like 1980s cover bands, there's most likely something wrong with you.) As we were in the aforementioned middle-of-nowhere for a couple of days, with no shoes for hiking (me) and no interest in horseback riding (Mike), we decided to drive north and visit Cheyenne, just to see what was up there.

That's where we found this, the Cheyenne Frontier Days Old West Museum. We thought it was an actual old-west museum, but really, it's focused on the history of the eponymous massive rodeo festival held yearly in Cheyenne. Which was a bit of a bummer.

They did have some pretty interesting artifacts, though, like this crazy-streamlined racing cart...

...and these "woolie" chaps, which were originally for practical, keeping-warm purposes, but eventually evolved into a fashion statement for rodeo competitors. (Ha! So goofy.)

Somehow, Art Nouveau seems to find me, wherever I am. Here, a gorgeous silver trophy for a bucking contest from 1910. Who woulda thunk it??

This museum also happens to have the largest collection of carriages "this side of the Mississippi," or so we were told. (I'm not kidding. Those words were actually used.) These turned out to be super fascinating; here, a hearse carriage.

The Laramie County Library bookmobile carriage. Something about this was just so, so cozy to me!

1931 fire engine. 

You know you're in the Southwest when the popcorn-and-peanuts cart also sells tamales. Yes, please.

Wedding site. Just stunning.

That whole area was filled with these giant, crazy rock piles that all looked as if they'd melted a bit. Really amazing scenery--didn't even know part of Colorado looked like that!

The first sign of the good things to come at the reception: BIGGEST BOWL OF GUACAMOLE I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY LIFE, right next to a massive bowl of chips and another of NACHO CHEESE. Good friends, good Mexican food, a gorgeous setting, and a beautiful, sweet wedding...what more could one ask? Congratulations, Nancy and Eddie. We were honored to be there.


Other exciting things in September:

Zürich held a giant "celebration of culinary art" for 10 days, in a heap of places around the city, so we thought we'd get in on it, starting with my first vegan meal--served at a restaurant known for its grilled meats. Heh. Mike, of course, went for the carnivorous tasting menu, and while I'm certainly never going to be a vegan convert (OH CHEESE, YOU COMPLETE ME), the artichoke "oysters," pumpkin soup, mushrooms, "cheese" selection, and chocolate mousse were surprisingly good. (The salad was a salad, and the ravioli a little underwhelming.)

Also for Food Zürich, we went for Japanese food at the Widder Hotel. The event was supposed to be on their penthouse's rooftop terrace--a place we'll never, ever be able to afford in our respective lifetimes, other than through events like this--but naturally, it rained that day, so we ate inside. At least the food was good.

Alexander Skarsgaard was in Zürich to promote a cop/buddy movie at the Zürich Film Festival...and while it was a rather rollicking and enjoyable film, I'm sorry, dude. You'll always be Eric Northman to me.

And with that, friends, not only have I reached a relatively logical stopping place, but more's the point, I'm too depressed to write any more. I'll just end with this:

Stewie sleeping in the dryer. Although it's harder for him to access now that his tremendous bulk has broken the top of the litter box he used as his springboard into said dryer. (Wah-wahhhhhhh...)

...and try to think about happier things. I'll be back when I've figured out how to manage that. (Right now, it's going to involve LOTS of margaritas.)








*...and hangs a "Foreigners Not Welcome" sign around the Statue of Liberty's Neck. And moves Putin into the West Wing. And outlaws birth control in the United States. And ensures that anyone who wants a gun--anyone--gets it, along with plenty of high-capacity clips. And deports everyone whose skin is not his favorite color--pasty, lily white--regardless of citizenship. Is that alarmist? Yep. An exaggeration? Good Lord, we can only hope. But I think things are coming that we can't even imagine, and those vaunted checks and balances? Don't hold your breath, now that the GOP has a majority everywhere, and we've seen already how effective they are at controlling Trump. I'm ANGRY and I'm WORRIED and I HATE that Trump played the "You should fear, hate, and/or mistrust everyone different from yourself!" card against minorities and women and it WORKED. 

Warning: EXTREME ANGER AND ACCUSATION FORTHCOMING. (Although not with nearly the volatility I hear in my head. So you're welcome for that. But it's my platform, darnit, so out with it.)

Everyone who voted for him or went third-party got suckered--Trump has NOTHING positive to provide as president, and as usual, none of the third-party candidates stood a snowball's chance. Although in several rather important swing states, those very minimal third-party percentages could have actually WON THE ELECTION FOR HILLARY. These voters got nowhere near funding a third party, and it was genuinely impossible that one of their candidates could win. Whatever stand they were trying to take, whatever message they were trying to send, came across instead, loudly and clearly, as this: "We don't care that some of you are trying to prevent the most ignorant, racist, corrupt, lying, sex-assaulting, science-hating, foreign-policy-lacking, man-child candidate in the history of ever from taking office. Instead of voting for a less-terrible candidate who could win, we simply must cast our ill-timed, short-sighted votes to support a third-party candidate! This is the year we must 'fix the system,' at whatever cost!" Well, the cost was immense, and the system has gotten far worse, especially if you care anything about reproductive rights, gender issues and equality, gun control, women, people of color, and/or your Constitutionally-guaranteed rights to freedom of religion and of speech. Thanks so very much, guys. I hope you're pleased with this result, because it was partly your handiwork, unlike those of us who desperately wanted to go third-party, but realized that not only were the odds--as always, let me just reiterate, so why this year??--impossibly stacked against establishing a third party, but that it was far, far too dangerous this cycle. I feel great about my vote, though, because I actually did the math and cast a vote that could have helped prevent this absolute travesty. But now we all get to pay. (Harumph.)

Ahem. Rant concluded. And don't worry, I'll get tired of being rage-filled any day now. It's exhausting.

**According to their website, they researched cookbooks both ancient (14th century) and much more modern (the most current dish on their present menu is from 1940) and worked with "food historians" and to come up with the menu. Um..."food historian" is a thing?? And much more importantly, how can I get that job???