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| From the Tate Modern viewing level |
After visiting Iceland last year, I decided I could travel internationally by myself. I wanted to visit an English-speaking country
for my first solo-international trip. But, then, this summer an opportunity
arose. I met someone about to take a vacation, during my summer break. And so,
I joined this person, born in England, but who has lived in Philly for
ten years, on a trip to their home country. We spent ten days driving around the (almost) entire
country.
Instead of detailing the whole trip, I’ll hit the
highlights. I didn’t necessarily have expectations for England. I am not an
Anglophile. I re-watched The Trip and did a bit of research to
prepare. Unlike everyone else I mentioned the trip to, I knew that the food
would be good. In fact, I had three of the more incredible meals of my life, as
well as the best Indian food I’ve ever eaten.
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| The Fryer's Delight |
The trip began with a jet-lagged dinner of fish and chips, in London, at The Fryer’s Delight. I did eat fish and chips three times while in England. The Fryer’s
Delight was, as explained to me, less fancy, but more, not sure of the word,
maybe traditional or “old-fashioned.” The Fryer’s Delight was certainly
different than the others; it wasn’t the fluffy batter you might expect. It was
tighter, and the taste of fryer oil was nice.
The next day we made it to the Tate Modern before dinner. I was not missing the Tate. I remember Marc Maron talking about the Rothko room. I, somewhat frantically, moved through the stunning and crowded Georgia O'Keeffe exhibit to find the Rothko room. There was limited time at the museum and I wanted to digest the Rothkos. I found the room and spent about twenty minutes enjoying the dark maroon and black paintings. The room is dimly lit and the paintings are deep. Sitting in the room felt both ominous and cathartic.
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| Middle White, St. John |
We had dinner at St. John: the first of three particularly excellent meals on the trip. The experience was
spectacular. I knew it would be. I was most excited to eat foods that we never
see in America. Middle White? Yes. Every piece of pork I ate in England was
better than every piece of pork I have ever eaten in America. This seems to be
evidence of the fact that the American meat industry has screwed everything up.
Beyond the food, the inside of the restaurant and the service was lovely.
After visiting Borough Market, to sample various seafood, meats, and cheeses, we drove south from London. An accidental booking brought us to
the Isle of Wight. Yet another place I desired to go because of a song lyric.
The only reason I know of its location, spelling, and existence is because of
The Beatles’s song: “When I’m Sixty-Four.” A short, expensive ferry over, and a nice sunset drive, led to the best Indian food I’ve ever had. We didn’t
necessarily need to eat a very late night dinner, but the gentleman at the front desk, at the
hotel, told us we had a chance to get to an Indian spot before it closed, Fatimas. I am
so glad that we did. We ate out of the containers on a stone wall next to the
restaurant. A far more expensive Indian dinner in London, later in the trip,
couldn’t compare.
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| Atlantic prawn cocktail & sardines on toast, Hix |
Next we traveled southwest towards Cornwall. The drive through Devon and Dorset was the most beautiful scenery of the trip. Incredibly hilly farms, separated by neat tree lines, seemed to float in the clouds. We stopped in
Lyme Regis for another excellent meal: HIX Oyster & Fish House. The tiny restaurant sits atop the hill overlooking the town and sea.
In Cornwall, we stayed in a yurt on a farm. The yurt had no
electricity, but there was a separate space attached with a kitchen, running
water, and bathroom/shower. We drove further south to Mousehole, purchased
seafood in Newlyn, and ate dinner at the yurt. Despite the driving rain during our
entire stay in Cornwall, the yurt was a highlight of the trip.
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| Hawksmoor |
Next we drove north to Manchester. We stopped at a smokery for
lunch and continued to Manchester to see a match at Old Trafford. I wanted to
experience the vibe of a soccer match. I’ll call it a “match,” but I don’t
think I’m conceding on the “soccer” versus “football” point. I might if I wasn’t so
connected to American football. The match, a "friendly," was somewhat sleepy. It was
interesting to see that drinking is not allowed in the stands. Signs warn that if you take a beer into the stands you will be arrested. I can’t help
but think that American football could benefit from this bit of civilization.
The next day, in Manchester, after I practiced yoga, we had
the third of the three brilliant meals: a perfect lunch at Hawksmoor. The
cocktails, the glassware, the food, the old train station décor. Everything was flawless.
After a quick family visit we traveled south. We stopped for
pies at Standforths Butchers in Skipton. Then we made two art stops: The Hepworth Wakefield and the
Yorkshire Sculpture Park. The Hepworth is very small, but had a few items of note. There was an interesting personal collection with drawings by Miro,
Sylvia Plath, and Calder. There were also three I-Pad drawings by David
Hockney. These there were stunningly bright and eye-catching.
I wanted to go to the Yorkshire Sculpture Park for a James
Turrell. I will go out of my way to see any Turrell. This one is a Skyspace
inside of an 18th c. deer shelter. It was very hard to find in the
park. I have to imagine that many people miss it, unless they are looking for
it. The middle of the day isn’t the best time to see a Skyspace, but it still
had a meditative quality. We laid on the benches for nearly an hour, watching
the clouds move past the opening in the ceiling.
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| Sunday roast, The Jugged Hare |
We continued southeast to Cromer and stayed outside
Norwich for the night. Then we drove back to London for two more nights. We ate upscale Indian food at Gymkhana, saw a comedy show at the Comedy Store, went to the Royal Academy of Arts for an awesome David Hockney show, and ate Sunday
roast at The Jugged Hare. That evening, we grabbed way too much kebab on the way to our hotel near the airport.
Two months later, I’m still forming my thoughts about England. I realized that
“New England” is a very appropriate name for New England; much of the
landscape, save the farms in the southwest, is the same. I see why Boston felt
like home to many colonists. I understand why the colonists cared so much about tea; having a nice afternoon tea is rather enjoyable. I learned that pub culture is a real "thing." As a place of exchange and discourse, the British pub is very different from most American bars. The local pub is a centuries-old meeting place with historical importance in England. No matter how many baskets of flowers you hang outside of a building, or how much you try to recreate British pub fare, the pub is a cultural phenomenon that can't quite be transplanted to America.
Overall, England seems to be a more civilized and apologetic version
of America. Besides the architecture, London was very much like an American
city. As an international city, London has the trappings of the forces of
globalization. It seems wrong to see a Subway and Pizza Hut everywhere. Many spots felt like a smaller version of something in New York. I wonder what
it would be like to have known London before New York.
But, the food was worth the trip. The produce, meat, and seafood was all that much better than what we find in America. I ate fish and shellfish I could never eat/eat so fresh in America: whelks, cockles, spider crab, brown crab, oysters. I’ve already waxed philosophical about pork.
When I returned from the trip, I didn't think I ever needed to go back to England. But, now, I've softened. I would return. Albeit, I'd make a few different choices. Regardless, every trip is an experiential lesson worth the price of admission. Sometimes, you have to go. And, whatever you find is what you need.
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| Langoustine and mayo, St. John |
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| Barbican Estate |
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| Rothko, Tate Modern |
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| Pie & mash, G. Kelly |
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| Jellied eels, G. Kelly |
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| Basement of the Tate Modern |
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| Borough Market |
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| Borough Market |
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| Cockles and whelks, Borough Market |
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| Isle of Wight |
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| Durdle Door |
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| Somewhere on the side of the road in Dorset |
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| Lyme Regis |
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| Rock Oysters, Hix |
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| Moyallon bacon chop with Poole cockles and sea sandwort, Hix |
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| Torbay turbot steak with Aviemore girolles and sea astor, Hix |
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| Eton mess, Hix |
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| St. Ives |
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| Peacock in Cornwall |
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| Clotted cream in Mousehole |
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| Seafood in Newlyn, ate the spider crab |
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| Brixham crab salad with brown shrimp, Hawksmoor |
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| Potted beef & bacon with Yorkshires, Hawksmoor |
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| Side of bone marrow, Hawksmoor |
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| Royal bream, Hawksmoor |
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| Sticky Toffee, Hawksmoor |
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| Marshmallows that caramelize |
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| Sausage Roll |
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| Made with chicken, not available in US |
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| Not Vital, "Let 100 Flowers Bloom," Yorkshire Sculpture Park |
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| Turrell Skyspace, Yorkshire Sculpture Park |
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| Turrell Skyspace in a Deer Stand |
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| Hockney I-Pad Drawings, Hepworth Wakefield |
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| Cromer |
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| Cromer |
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| House prosciutto, The Jugged Hare |
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| Hockney, Royal Academy of Arts |
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| Kebab |
