Unfortunately for you, I’m only providing a brief synopsis of my life since Thursday. I have three books to read by the middle of this week and a scholarship application due tomorrow. I still feel a sense of duty, however, to update the world on my life.
So, mostly I hung out with my cousin Andre since he was in town. (He’s studying in Hamburg.) We spent most of our time in Ye Olde Chesire Cheese, a pub that’s older than America and John McCain combined. Apparently Mark Twain and Samuel Johnson used to frequent it. And the courtyard in which the pub resides gets a mention in Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities. The place contains about eight different bars within the actual structure, and most of the floors appear to have remained unwashed since the pub was rebuilt in 1666. I’ve decided that anyone who comes to visit me absolutely must experience Ye Olde–it seems like the epitome of an old(e), cavernous British pub.
I worked for a half day Friday, then headed home with my sights set on a newly-recommended Indian restaurant since I’m becoming increasingly obsessed with curry. Well, by the time I arrived, it was 3:05. They closed for lunch at 3. Poor timing is this week’s theme, I guess. To spite the restaurant for dashing my hopes, I went to Gourmet Burger Kitchen instead. I ate part of a sacred cow because I couldn’t have chicken curry. Now that’s karma.
That night I went with the Green Thumbs Society to a concert devoted to raising awareness about climate change. And went back to the olde pub.
Saturday was spent on Portobello Road and in this hidden gem of a cafe, where Andre tried black pudding. I know I just recently defended British food, but that’s seriously disgusting stuff. The dark blood contrasts ever-so-awfully with the congealed chunks of fat. But from far away, a slice of black pudding looks misleading like a slice of dark bread. Don’t be fooled; it’s much more vile and unwholesome. My raspberry white chocolate muffin, on the other hand, was delightful. Later on, we successfully ate at Masala Zone, where I had tried to eat on Friday.
I actually went to Portobello Market again today and ate brunch with my friend Marilena (yeah, a real friend–photographic evidence below). I’m definitely going back to that restaurant. The baked goods at Gail’s caused me to gain about ten pounds from merely viewing them. I take that as a challenge.
After we did some window shopping, I attempted to come home and do work. In typical Meghan fashion, I cooked instead. As my chili was bubbling away, I realized I couldn’t eat it without cornbread, so I went on an epic journey to five different grocery stores to find corn meal. Success, followed by a baking failure. I will never again trust a British recipe for a Southern classic. There was too much flour, or something. I had to throw almost the whole pan away. I’ll stick to cookies in the future, and perhaps some blueberry crisp tomorrow evening. After all, I have work to put off.