A Proper Dinner

Eating sticky toffee pudding as I type away....

I don't know what everyone in the world is on about saying that the British have terrible food.
In the past 48 hours alone I have had quite a few beyond delicious things, starting with a toasty ham and cheese and croissant Sunday morning and ending now with a spoonful of stickiest, sticky toffee pudding.

I got up early yesterday in order to make the most of my day off. The working world has really changed my priorities and given me a whole new appreciation for the weekend, Saturday particularly. I used to sleep in until 1pm and love every lazy moment of it. Now, if I wake up past 9 I am devastated that my sacred minutes of freedom are already ticking away.

So I popped out of bed and walked over to Knightsbridge, oooing and ahhhing the whole way at the adorable shops, cafes, and beautiful bridal boutiques I passed. I always thought Paris had the best gown shops - but London may give Paris a run for their Euros when it comes to that department. One day very far from now, when I've tricked some fool into wanting to make me a Mrs. - you will find me dress shopping in Knightsbridge.

After drooling over everything in Harrods for a while, I headed over to my date for tea with my dear friend Amy's "mum" and dad. I've never been a tea drinker, but I decided to give it go, because while in London, I plan do as the British do. Except when it comes to teeth.

I've never thought tea has much taste, but turns out after you add a spot of milk and a sugar cube or six, it's delicious! And along with your tea comes a slice of cake - in this case, homemade plum and walnut dusted with powdered sugar. I could certainly get used to that every day at 3pm. Positively lovely, really.

My day of fun concluded with a visit to the Winter Wonderland in Hyde Park, which was like walking around in the little village inside a snow globe.

Is there anything better come the holidays than a Christmas Market? I think not. The tiny light-lined huts selling roasted chestnuts, sparkling ornaments, and woolly hats. The smell of waffles wafting, fries frying, and crepes cooking. The mulled wine, the sausage rolls, the bins of sugary sweets! It just makes me want to haul out the holly and go caroling.






I decided to get dinner there, since I couldn't resist the various smells enticing me. I went toward a sign for beef stew bubbling in what appeared to be a cauldron - which was part of the appeal given my obsession with Harry Potter. I also figured I needed a "proper" dinner after my croissant breakfast and cake lunch.

Proper is used instead of the word real, or actual here in England.

I.E. - A proper dinner, as opposed to eating a bag of sweets. It is an expression that has grown on me quite quickly! One just must ensure to use it properly.

Upon ordering my stew, the friendly bloke informed me they'd just run out!
No sooner did I begin a very dramatic "oh no!" than did he say, "hang on a minute - I just got to get a new pot," and returned moments later with a heaping, fresh pot - and scooped me the first serving instead of the bits at the bottom of the old one - and for the delay, threw in a chunk of fresh bread. So nice!

I have had many other friendly encounters like this one in the past few days, which already has me convinced that Brits are much nicer than New Yorkers.

Like Saturday night when I was at the movies, a group of 3 young Englishmen came in and sat down one seat away with a giant tub of kettle corn. After a few moments, the one nearest to me looked over, and passing the tub towards me said, "popcorn?"

The best moment so far, however, was scoring a free cab ride the other night. That's right - free! I left my apartment to meet Jax and since I was map-less, asked a cab driver parked on the road to point me in the right direction. He looked up the address in his "tom-tom" (what the Brits call GPS) and then said,

"you know what - I'm heading that way anyway and its not far from here - I'll take you for no tariff. We've all got to do a kindness for a stranger every once in a while you know?"

I was ever so slightly worried that I was going to get kidnapped and made into filling for a meat pie a la Sweeny Todd, but instead I flashed a smile and said,

"Oh, oui - monsieur taxi - I couldn't agree more."