Today’s Vocabulary: Sunday 8 April 2007

8 Apr


Regent’s Park

Originally uploaded by commamommas.

meat and veg: one of the British terms Liz often uses
top drawer: great, top notch, Neumann’s favorite British expression
great tits: a bird–and when I say “bird,” I don’t mean in the British sense of “a woman,” I mean in the flying feathered critter sense

Since I ate all the Hot Cross Buns I bought at the Borough Market (they would have gone stale anyway), Liz and I bought more at the farmers market near Notting Hill Gate on Saturday. It’s a cute farmers’ market: two cheese vendors, two bread vendors, yummy fresh apple juice blends (Liz bought the apple and beetroot, which was delicious and a bright pink color), meat, etc. We picked up some pork tenderloin, kale, and parsnips for Easter dinner (Liz wanted a “meat and two veg” meal).

To digress briefly, I don’t see where London gets a bad rap for food. There are plenty of places that serve healthy food on the streets and in the airports. Liz buys mostly organic stuff, which is fairly easy the farmers markets everywhere. That should serve as a reminder to me that I need to go to the Noe Valley Farmers Market more often.

Easter morning–er, midday–we took the Tube to Regent’s Park, which was “absolutely…top drawer,” as Neumann would say. We walked around the park for a while, and checked out St. John’s Wood (which felt like a really traditional English garden), and all the people who were out doing exactly what we were doing: enjoying the sunny day.

The streams there have so many ducks, swans, and other birds, including according to one sign, Great Tits. I’m not sure who did the Beavis and Butthead laugh at that point, but I’m sure someone did, or at least thought it.

We walked back through Marylebone, got some falafel, stopped briefly at a small museum there (the Wallace Museum?) for the last fifteen minutes it was open, then walked back through Hyde Park. Liz made pork tenderloin with prosciutto in dough, kale, and roasted parsnips. Then for dessert, we cracked open the Easter egg from Michel Chaudun chocolatiers in Paris and ate Liz’s strawberry rhubarb crumble. Two good bottles of wine (with screw caps–the Brits don’t have issues with that, they’re so darn practical). It was the best Easter ever (in London).

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