Lovely Day for Sitting in the Park

Suzie and I wound up our day by lounging in St. James's Park and enjoying a cone of ice cream. The weather all week has been sensational, and it was capped off by the postcard-perfect afternoon we had in the park. After a long day of walking, including picking up Suzie's umbrella and my mid-afternoon hangover, the candy-striped deck chairs were a welcome sight. We stayed long enough to soak it all in (or at least until the attendant came and asked us to pay the £1.50 each for the use of the chairs).

We headed home, with a final stop at Suzie's favorite grocery, Waitrose. There, I stocked up on Colman's mustard, crumpets and HP sauce. I didn't go too crazy on the sundries--no need to, since after all, we will be making many many more trips to London together in the future.

Bottoms Up!

My friend Adam, with whom I worked at my old job, met us for drinks Friday afternoon. Given the heat, it was the perfect occasion for me to try my first Pimm's, and it was a very refreshing drink. It was not, however, a scotch. For that, Adam urged me to drop in to Berry Bros. & Rudd, and seek out the salesman with the ruddy complexion and an eagerness to pour out a dram or two to sample. So today Suzie and I returned to St. James's Street and paid a visit to Berry Bros. It did not disappoint. Of the three or four salespeople, it was obvious which one was our guy--Ed (that's him, below).

Ed graciously spent at least 45 minutes with me, pouring out several samples of unique and hard-to-find scotches. As Ed explained, Berry Bros. goes 'round to the many distilleries in Scotland and selects the finest individual casks of single malt, buying the casks for themselves and bottling the whisky under their name. These particular casks are chosen for their quality and character. Thus, as Ed pointed out, while a distillery attempts to aim for consistency of product for their customers year in and year out by carefully blending the various thousands of casks produced each year, Berry Bros. specifically tastes and purchases casks which meet their criteria for their limited production boutique bottlings.

Interesting bit of trivia--Berry Bros. is housed in a storefront hundreds of years old (the back wall dates from the 1500s), with creaky floors and not a plumb or square line in the joint. In fact, apparently during the Blitz a German bomb exploded up the street from the shop, with the result that Berry Bros. storefront was pushed several inches further out into the street than the neighboring buildings due to the concussion from the blast. But back to our story...

So it was that Suzie, happy to rest her feet for a bit, watched as I sampled dram after dram, with Ed happily opening bottle after bottle. Needless to say, I was somewhat sozzled after all his help. And that bottle--which I at first had admonished him was way out of my price range--became more and more reasonable the more I sampled. In the end, in my whisky-clarified state I was able to lucidly rationalize that (a) I had easily consumed £10-20 worth of fine whisky and (b) I'd get the VAT back at the airport, so...long story short, my bag is slightly heavier for the trip home, and yes, it's the spendy bottle. Job well done, Ed.

When in Rome

I had told Suzie that I wanted to drop by James Smith & Sons, an umbrella shop in London which has been family-run since 1830. The shop is as old as you might imagine, as if it was plucked right out of a novel (with a staff from Central Casting to boot). As you may have guessed, they make and sell high-end umbrellas. Eight years ago, I bought an umbrella from them, and it is a fine umbrella. So we dropped in on Friday, ostensibly to have a look around, but really so that I could buy an umbrella for Suzie.

After she had a bit of a look around, I told her the real reason why were were there. Of course, James Smith & Sons stocks ready made umbrellas, but will also custom fit one for you. The shopkeeper (who I am certain is the same fellow who helped me select an umbrella those years ago), was very diplomatic when I inquired as to which ladies umbrella style was best: "why, whichever one she selects is usually the right one for the job." Wise words indeed.

Thus, Suzie had a grand time selecting a handle style, handle color, umbrella length and umbrella color. She even was able to rummage through drawers and drawers of tassles to select one or two to attach to the handle. Now, even though James Smith & Sons employs full time umbrella fitters, there is still a wait to have a custom one made. However, upon learning that we were departing for New York on Sunday, the shopkeeper arranged to have the umbrella ready for us today, Saturday.

Picking out the handle and umbrella color:

Choosing the tassles:

The finished product, waiting for us on Saturday:

On Your Feet!

Suzie on the job outside the gate to St. James's Palace, home of Prince Charles, Camilla and Princes William and Harry.

Everything Sounds Polite with an Accent...

Oi! Outta me way! This dumptruck was parked in the street at a job site we passed. Love that sticker on the tailgate.

Update! Borough Market

We couldn't help ourselves--we returned to Borough Market this morning for coffee at Suzie's favorite coffee shop, Monmouth. All I can say is "wow"--coffee as good as our favorite boutique hole-in-the-wall coffee place in New York. And that's saying something.

I've finally uploaded more pictures of the Market to the original post about the Market from yesterday (so feel free to revisit it for even more food porn)--but here are a few more pics to give you and idea of how popular the Market is.

Our Last Full Day

Big plans for today--we have a few shopping errands to run this morning, then we're off to have a picnic in a park. First stop: Suzie's favorite coffee shop (back down in Borough Market), then off to James Smith & Sons to pick up Suzie's gift (that'll be a future post). We have fantastic weather again today, so I'm beginning to think England is all sunshine and beautiful flowers.

Friday Afternoon--Pub Time

Friday was the last working day of a glorious week of weather. Officeworkers flocked to pubs in the St. James's Park district. No room at the bar? Stand in the street with your pint of bitter and your mates!

Mind the Gap

Suzie, riding the escalator up out of the tube. We were on side-by-side escalators, racing to see who would make it to the top first.

Borough Market

This morning, I was in for a real treat. Suzie has been saying all week, "wait until Friday...we're going to Borough Market and it will blow your mind." Well, consider my mind blown.

Borough Market is what the North Market in Columbus or the Union Square Farmer's Market in NYC dreams about becoming one day--a fully realized market: literally soup-to-nuts. I have never seen such a broad range of foodstuffs, with everything from primary and exotic ingredients to fully prepared and cooked foods. Of all cuisines and styles. Everything from fresh produce, herbs and spices to exotic game and other meats. The market is located under the train trestles at London Bridge Station. It is sprawling, and has grown beyond its original space and has spread into every available nook and cranny surrounding the original site.

We first explored Neal's Yard Dairy, and tried several cheeses, including two Stiltons, a few Cheddars and a goat's milk soft rind cheese similar to a Brie. The shop had rows upon rows of shelves, floor-to-ceiling, where whole cheeses were in repose, quietly maturing amid the hustle and bustle of the cheesemongers and customers. Neal's Yard whet our appetites, and we plunged headlong into the market, searching for Suzie's favorite vendor...of toasted cheese sandwiches (of course). Needless to say, our toasted cheese was superb, made on crusty sourdough, with well-aged Gloucestershire cheddar, finely chopped garlic, leeks and onions melded together between the slices of bread. We devoured it before it even crossed my mind to photograph it.

The market started to fill up with officeworkers--probably more than usual given the extraordinarily clear and warm spring weather--and soon there were lines at almost every stall as people clamored for lunch. We tried to wait out the onslaught, but soon found ourselves in line for lamb and mint sausages on a crusty bap with rocket and onions and a lamb souvlaki on handmade flatbread with tzatziki, salad and feta. We polished this all off with a fresh apple juice, then moved on to dessert: fresh made creme caramel for me and some ice cream for Suzie.

Fresh eggs: chicken, duck, goose and otherwise.

The nut vendor--if he doesn't have it, you don't need it.

Mmm...haggis and award-winning white sausages!

If it swims, it's here.

Produce of all varieties.

A forest of mushrooms.

Semi-English Breakfast

My daily English breakfast. Except no black sausages. Or white sausages. Come to think of it, no baked beans, mushrooms or tomatoes either. Or bacon rashers or toast. Or tea. Ok, so no self-respecting Englishman would ever eat crumpets for breakfast--they are strictly accompaniments to teatime--but I've been enjoying a couple fried eggs and crumpets with coffee and juice each morning. The eggs here are better than at home--they actually have richer flavor, and the yolks are a deeper yellow, almost orange. Must be all the rain. Damp chickens lay superior eggs.

"Don't Forget the Fingerprints, Ed..."

Big day in London today: Breakfast, Elevenses, Coffee, Lunch, Tea, more Tea, Dinner, Nightcap. Yessiree, Bob, today was the day Suzie took me around for the official Turn-Your-Head-To- The-Side-And-Cough: a day-long marathon of meeting the friends and relatives.

I woke up to the following itinerary, taped to the mirror in the bathroom (and followed with military precision):

9am: Brekkie
10am: Shower and shave
11am (I said, 11am, mister!): Play date in Golders Green with Cressy and toddler Ruby
Noon: Get on that Tube post-haste
12:47pm: Off the Tube at London Bridge
12:49pm: Coffee for Eliott
12:53pm: Ahem, still waiting on that coffee...
12:54pm: Hello?
12:57pm: Begging your pardon, would it be too much trouble for that coffee?
1pm: Lunch with Dan, Sara and baby Thea at the Tate (Fish & chips and mushy peas! Again!)
3pm: Free time
3:01pm: Stop slagging off and get your tuckus to Charing Cross!
4pm: Tea and cakes in Baker Street with Jean, Marcel and Myra, as well as Suzie's dad
4:01pm: Where are Suzie and Eliott?
4:02pm: Can't imagine what is delaying them
4:10pm: Oh, that must be them now
6:30pm: More tea in Hampstead with Sharon
8:03pm: Dinner in West Hampstead
10:27pm: Home again--salty toffee and nougat for Eliott--job well done.

...And I loved every minute of it. Suzie has a lovely family and friends.

(Bonus points if you know the reference made in the title to this entry.)

She Wont Let Me Stop, Paul!

We keep passing Bloom's Deli on the way from Suzie's house in Hendon to the tube/bus station in Golders Green. So far, Suzie has timed it so we pass Bloom's between meals, putting the kabosh on my urge to nosh. That's it whizzing by as we ride the bus for home.

First Gridlock, Then the Pub

Successfully ensnarling rush hour traffic in West London without getting run over really makes one thirsty. So, after an exhaustive photo session in London's most photographed crosswalk, we nipped off to the pub up the road from EMI's studios for a drink before heading home. Suzie likes a drink called a Shandy, which is one part bitter ale to one part lemonade (the European sparkling kind, similar to a 7UP). However, her friend Niina told her about an even better drink, which is hard cider and blackcurrant cordial (called, appropriately enough, a Cider & Black). So while I made do with another pint of tasty cask-conditioned ale, Suzie mixed herself a Magner's Cider & Black, which was lovely in the cool spring evening with a side of pistachios.

Don't Try This Without a Local

After our lunch and walk through Notting Hill, we ran a few errands back in the Piccadilly Circus area (ugh, Times Square with a cockney accent). It was quite a drag, fending off tourists and slogging our way through the teeming streets, but we managed to get quite a bit accomplished. Our reward (and Suzie's bribe to keep me in high spirits) was to swing by Abbey Road on the way home, so that I could see the famous Abbey Road Studios of EMI, where The Beatles recorded many of their albums, as well as the even more famous zebra crossing immortalized on the cover of The Beatles "Abbey Road" album. In case you can't recall, the cover of the album shows the four Beatles crossing the street in the zebra crossing in front of the Abbey Road Studio:

Certain that I was the first tourist to ever come up with the brilliant idea of capturing in pictures my own reinactment of the Fab Four's jaunt across the street at the zebra crossing, I convinced a somewhat recalcitrant (but ultimately sporting) Suzie to take a picture of me doing just that. (Below is a photo of the two of us at the actual Beatles zebra crossing, captured by a friendly Brazilian.)

Now, as you may know, a zebra crossing is a British invention--at such pedestrian crossings, all vehicles must give way and stop when a pedestrian is in the crosswalk. Even for a silly bugger like me.

You see, funny story: It is actually very difficult to capture the moment during rushhour in modern day London, what with all the drivers intent on flattening an insufferable tourist. So, after several attempts at the original site, we drew on my yankee ingenuity (and Suzie's stoicism and good-humored but semi-dwindling patience) and captured the moment at a different zebra crossing down the road.

One which conveniently had an actual "Abbey Road" street sign and a far more photogenic background...

...Regardless of how many takes it took to get the shot even remotely right (at least 20) and no matter how many drivers (five) and pedestrians (two) shouted at us that we were at the wrong bloody zebra crossing.

Portobello Road

After our lunch in Notting Hill, we wandered through Portobello Road, which is the prime shopping district in the neighborhood, filled with all manner of antique shops, booksellers, secondhand shops, kebab shops and posh boutiques. Portobello (not named for the fungus) is famous for its weekend outdoor market, with stalls stretching for blocks. It is such an institution that there are painted areas marked out on the street for the weekend stalls. Unfortunately, there wasn't much by way of the market today, but we enjoyed walking along the streets and exploring the shops, including two of Suzie's favorites in the neighborhood: Books for Cooks (guess what they sell) and The Spice Shop.

No pictures of the bookstore, but here are a few of the spice shop. You could smell the heady aroma of the spice shop from well down the street, and the extensive spectrum of exotic spices and other flavorants was a whirlwind tour of the world's cuisines in 100 square feet of shop space.