A whirlwind tour through Milton Keynes and London

Obviously, in a week's time, I ate a lot of food, but I'll spare you the low- and medium-lights and just hit the highlights and the curiosities.

The first part of my trip was business, which took me to Milton Keynes, which is essentially a far-outlying suburb of London. It's got a huge mall and lots of chain restaurants; I think you know the type. Though the town actually consists of several smaller villages, some of which (unlike Milton Keynes--not to be confused with John Maynard Keynes) are quite old and cute. Contrary to popular belief, it's quite easy to be a vegetarian in England--even if you're in a traditional pub.

Anyhoo, like a good tourist, I mainly stuck to the chain restaurants around my hotel. Though I generally eschew what I like to call high-concept chains, I was delighted to find a restaurant called dim t, which specializes in dim sum. And has an extensive vegetarian selection. Yes, please. I ate there three times. This, my friends is what I had for dessert: chocolate won tons. They were as tasty as they appear--filled with chocolate and just a hint of liquer.

After bidding my co-workers "cheers" for the week, I headed into London. On a tip from one of my co-workers, I headed to Borough Market. I wasn't expecting to be astounded by the enormity of the market and the selection of both prepared and unprepared foods. It hurt me that I had nowhere to cook and no way to escape with some of the most amazing produce, cheese, breads, and seasonings I've ever seen. A few images for you:




After roaming around, a trail of slobber following behind my open and hungry mouth, I finally settled on a cute little stand offering handmade veggie burgers. They had three to choose from that all sounded wonderful, but I settled one comprised of a combination of grains, shredded carrots and halloumi cheese. There were six or seven side salads you could choose to stuff in your container (have one, have all; they were incredulous that I only selected two). One was a chickpea salad; another was a barley salad with herbs. I took my box and found a spot on the (crowded) grounds of the Southwark Cathedral. Everything was delicious. I could hardly be bothered to people-watch because I was so mesmerized by this delicious food. For a variety of reasons (including a much more organic food supply), the food in England just tastes so much better. Brighter. Every bite does a little dance on your tongue. I miss that already.

I spent the rest of my day hoofing around the south bank of the Thames, past Big Ben (and Parliament), through St. James's Park, Green Park and back to Kensington. So by the evening, I was ready to relax and hang out with my friend, Jenn who's living and working in the area until next year. This little guy, called the Pigalle Passion (named for the club where it was purchased), really helped me finish the day the right way.

The next day--my last full day in the UK--Jenn steered me toward a few of her favorite places. There was a Paul nearby my hotel--her boyfriend is French and so it is one of their favorite places to have breakfast/brunch/lunch/anything. I chose a sandwich, Six Cereals with Goats' Cheese. It was excellent and like so much of the food there, bursting with flavor.

We proceeded to work off our Paul calories by visiting the Victoria and Albert Museum just down the street. I have no shame in saying we spent way too much time in the jewelry and clothing exhibitions. I think there were some paintings and sculptures in the musuem somewhere...

Next up, Jenn told me I just had to see Harrods. With the dollar in the, um, "w.c.", I knew I couldn't afford anything, but heck, why not check it out?

The place was jam-packed, mostly with tourists. You could hardly walk, particularly in the food hall, so we decided to escape to the fourth floor's Georgian Restaurant for afternoon tea with sandwiches.

I won't tell you what I paid for this meal, but I will tell you it was worth every pence. Jenn was kind enough to trade off my salmon and turkey sandwiches so that I could have an extra cucumber sandwich (much more delicious than it sounds) and egg salad sandwich (rivals Destin's Donut Hole for best egg salad). The third sandwich was cheese with pickle. Again, not "a" pickle, but "pickle." It was likely the Harrod's brand, but the most popular in the UK is Branston pickle. I have been informed that some pickle is on its way to me. I can't wait. I had no interest in the marmite (wretched smell), but I did very much love that cheese and pickle sandwich.

I also quite enjoyed the wonderful loose leaf jasmine tea I had with my lunch. Despite my manner of dress, I felt quite posh.

After tea, we did a little sightseeing around Piccadilly Circus as well as a quite a bit of shopping. Though very little buying. But all that walking around made us hungry for dinner. Jenn had a favorite spot not far from my hotel, Cous Cous Darna, a lovely little Moroccan place on a quiet street in South Kensington. We started with some mint tea and triangles stuffed with herbs and goat cheese. I'm accustomed to having this as tiropita--with feta, so the taste of the goat cheese was different...and better. Perhaps I'll try this at home with that leftover phyllo that's been taunting me from the freezer...

For dinner, we shared a tagine of eggplant, zucchini, peas, and beans with apricots and plums. The sweetness of the fruit in this dish made it absolutely sublime. We ate it with a bit of cous cous that came adorned with sultanas, my new favorite raisin that I will have to find a way to procure through the magic of the interwebs.

And of course we had dessert, a plate of delicate Moroccan pastries. Though I do love baklava-style pastries, I have to admit that the sesame seed-sprinkled roll filled with fig paste was my favorite. An excellent way to end a wonderful meal that ended my trip on a high note.

As opposed to letting it end on the low note of the meager airplane food and wretched treatment from the American Airlines flight attendant on the way back to the States...

But I digress. London remains one of my very favorite places in the world to eat. Regardless of whether it's at a chain restaurant, street vendor, pub, or Marks & Sparks, I feel like it has some of the very best and most flavorful food available anywhere.

Oh, hey

I meant to post more as my voyage progressed, but I was ever so busy. So I've got a whirlwind post of just the highlights planned. A preview: something called "pickle" is on its way over from my co-workers. Not "a" pickle; just "pickle." It's spread and I actually quite liked it.

But my purpose here today is to tell you I have returned (with a load of Hotel Chocolat chocolates and Mars candies for the Significant Omnivore). All of my luggage returned as well, no thanks to the TSA people at O'Hare who, AGAIN failed to re-zip my suitcase. Luckily, on the return trip, I put all small items in zipper compartments and used the little clampy things to secure my clothing. All of those things were as I left them, so I'm not really sure what the point of unzipping my luggage was.

Also, I got my vegetarian meals on the return flight from London. This is both good and bad. Good because the options were "beef or chicken," neither of which could have easily been converted to a vegetarian meal (unlike the omelet and pizza). Bad because it was eggplant moussaka on potatoes and was such a miniscule portion that even with the small salad (as in, four square inches of salad) and fruit, it was not enough food (hello, protein? nope.). Also, I have history of getting food poisoning from eggplant dishes. But I took my chances and ate it because I had no choice. Despite allowing two and a half hours for check-in at Heathrow, I had to be pulled out of line to make the plane. So I had no time to stop and get any food or water to take onto the plane as I'd planned. American Airlines at Heathrow is a bloody mess. Even at 7:45 on a Sunday morning.

Anyhoo. So we got our first meal about an hour into a seven and a half hour flight. No snack accompanied it like on the flight over (I was hoping for that processed cheese product again--would have been a lifesaver). About two hours afterward, I ate some of the food I'd meant to bring back to the SO. I was starving. It was just as I'd pictured it might be. People were begging for drinks to combat low blood sugar. People were getting restless. Those of us who might have slept were being kept awake by a toddler who thought he was a monkey (he shrieked and cried the duration of the flight--I'm not exaggerating). We were Desperate Passengers.

The problem was compounded for me as my row had been assigned an utter bitch of a flight attendant. I don't think I've ever been treated so rudely by a flight attendant in all my life. She was rude to my seat neighbors as well. I don't know who peed in her Cheerios that morning, but it was still no excuse for the treatment.

When they finally came around for the second food service, there was maybe an hour left in the flight. Pizza! But not for me. I got another tiny bowl of eggplant--this time sitting on white rice. High glycemic index, little nutritional value. Yay. Oh, and a tiny container of grapes. I'd been told by the flight attendant on the flight coming over that they usually have extra food going back to the states (Ostensibly to serve large Americans--who knows), so when the cart came around with the pizza, I asked, "Excuse me, do you have an extra pizza?" Exactly those words. Yes or no question. What I got was, "Only one meal per person. And you have your meal--it's right there" in a tone that was so condescending and rude, it was all I could do to contain myself. I said nothing to her, but said to my neighbor "Well, that was completely unnecessary" in a voice loud enough for her to hear. Even if she'd just said "no" sharply, it would have been better. Oooh, I wanted so much just to kick her. Oh, and I didn't get my cookie. Everyone else got grapes and a cookie on their tray. No cookie for me.

While I'm complaining (and I really shouldn't--the only delay was in Chicago and the notorious baggage handlers at Heathrow actually got my luggage on the correct plane), what's the deal with security procedures? Why can't they have the same procedure and same rules at every airport? Flying out of the US and within the US, you can have tweezers and clippers and nail files but no gel insoles, but no sharp objects at all coming into the US from some other country. I don't remember the insole thing. Flying out of Nashville and Heathrow, I was able to keep my laptop in my bag, but I had to take it out at O'Hare (I had to go through security again their after coming back into the country). I had a Sprite in my bag that I had to surrender because I didn't know I had to go through security again and then I got ridiculed for not taking my laptop out. With a confused look on my face, I ask the guy with the thick Chicago accent to clarify what he has just said, "I need to take my laptop out of the bag?" "Yes, ma'am, it's been a rule for about five or six years now" (in a quite sarcastic tone). I'd had it with rude people, so I shot back "Well, not in London or Nashville." And I moved along.

To top things off, when it was (finally) time to board the plane in Chicago, my boarding pass had been flagged somehow. I was told there was an equipment (plane) change and I got moved from the sixth row to the seventeenth. As in the last row of the plane. The one with the seats that don't recline and is right next to the lav. Thank goodness it was only an hour. And that I had time to grab a sandwich and a bottle of water during the delay.

I had a good time, but I'm not ready to go back any time soon. My boss and her boss do this once or twice a month. God help them, I don't know how they stand it.