Food and Lodgings

What traditional English cooking lacks in culinary prowess it makes up for in nomenclature.  The names make simple, traditional fare more interesting, especially to those of us from across the pond.  There is cullen skink, haggis with neeps and tatties, toad in a hole, bubble and squeak, bangers and mash, and puddings which are  generally not something you eat for desert although one cake-like pudding that is a desert is called "Spotted Dick." 

I was delighted with cullen skink, a chowder made with smoked haddock.  Unfortunately I didn’t see on menus again after I had tried it.  Thanks to a young couple we met on the steam train to Mallaig,  with whom we ate lunch in town, I ordered it.  The menu just had the name and I had no idea what it was.  Thank you, Grant, for explaining. 

In truth, English cooking, once scoffed by the French and just about everyone else, has had a renaissance.  Especially in the larger cities, population diversity means you can find Moroccan tagines, Chinese dim sum, Italian pasta, Greek moussaka and Indian tikka masala.  Residents from Spain, Eastern Europe and the middle east have brought their cuisines and restaurant choices span the globe.  I think the most predominant of those is Indian, which is not surprising considering the long colonization of India.  Traditional pubs and tea houses are still the most common eateries.

A full Scottish breakfast, served at both our B&Bs in that land, included eggs, a rasher of bacon, (something more like thinly sliced ham), sausage also known as a banger, baked beans, broiled half  tomato, sauteed mushrooms, black pudding, toast and sometimes hash browns.  There was tea, or coffee, and fruit juice.  Usually there was a selection of yogurt and dry cereals along with the juice when you entered the breakfast room. 

The same breakfast is called a full English breakfast in England and a full Welsh Breakfast in Wales.  It is probably called a full Irish in Ireland but we didn't go there.  With one exception, this meal was always included in our room fee, whether it was a B&B, a guest house, or a small hotel. 

In Cornwall, staying at a farm B&B, we ate at the kitchen table.  Other places had a breakfast room.  But the farm house was a treat as we ate in the kitchen, next to the red Aga cooker.  Our hosts sat, sipping tea or coffee with us and talking. Jessica would be in the kitchen when we arrived, Tom usually came in from farm chores part way through.  After the first morning of the full English breakfast, after having full breakfasts for almost two weeks, I asked if no one ever did oatmeal.  She looked at me, then said, “oh, porridge.”   She averred that her husband often liked it in the winter when it was cold and stormy.  She asked if I would like it.  I said I would be delighted to have it the next two mornings.  The full breakfast was way too much food for me, and while I like eggs sometimes, I don’t like them enough to have them every day.  Somehow, I expected porridge to be a staple.  My mother loved her oatmeal and claimed it was her Scots heritage. Chris was quite pleased with the full, whatever region, breakfast.

In our travels I tried Haggis with neeps and tatties.  Neeps are mashed turnips and tatties are, of course, potatoes.  Haggis sounds awful but turned out to be okay.  Not good enough that I would travel long distances to get it, or wake up in the night craving it.  But it was a satisfactory pub meal on a rainy night.  Haggis is sheep’s innards, cooked with oatmeal, onions, suet and spices.  Traditionally it is cooked, sausage style in the sheep’s stomach. And although you can find it done in the rinsed out stomachs a few places, commercial sausage skins are more common these days. It was cut in rounds, not unlike thick breakfast sausage at home.

Black pudding and Yorkshire pudding are not what I would call pudding at all.  Black pudding is similar to haggis except it is made with pork including the blood which gives it the dark color. Yorkshire pudding, for those of  you who have never tried it, is made in the fat drippings from cooking a beef roast.  Egg, flour and milk are added and cooked at a high heat which creates a puffy delight which makes cardiologists cringe.

Crisps are the term for for chips, chips are fat French fries, tea might simply be the drink or it could be a mid-afternoon break as in “tea and cake,” or tea as in tiny sandwiches, scones, clotted cream and a desert.  

Every pub and most restaurants serve fish and chips.  The offering is no longer served in newspaper.  I asked and was told there were newer health restrictions but one place had little cardboard-to-go boxes printed to look like newsprint.

Over the summer I had several guests on my Yellowstone tours who were from the UK.  I told them I was headed there when my season ended. One couple, good photographers, upon learning I wanted to go to Yorkshire but hadn't decided quite where yet, had a recommendation.  They said it had great photo ops.  The destination: Whitby, a photogenic coastal town, great hilly walking, and the ruins of the old Abbey.  The view of the abbey, seen from across the harbor, inspired Bram Stoker to write Dracula.  And so I took their recommendation. After I made that decision and reserved a room, another  English guest on another day, handed me a tip and said "Whitby has the best fish and chips in all of England. and this is for you to enjoy them.'"  They were good.

The British tradition of tea suits me fine.  Mid-afternoon is time for a cup of tea and treats to go with it.  It might simply be a scone with thick, rich clotted cream.  It might be a cake.  And it might be tea sandwiches along with all the aforementioned.  Mostly I did the tea with sweet.  Good thing that we walked as much as we did.  I came home a few pounds lighter which amazed me.   In York I had a full tea at Betty's Tea Room.  How could I go wrong?  Betty's is a tradition in Yorkshire where there are five tea houses run by the company.  My friend Gayle and I also had a smaller tea at the first "Betty's" in Ilkly.

Afternoon tea at Betty's in York

Outside of Betty's Tea Room

Window view in  a Cambridge bakery and tea house.

Another type of kitchen.  This one is in the elegant estate of Harwood.  This part of
the house is open for tours.  Its the kind of thing we have been introduced to through
English programs like Upstairs, Downstairs or Downton Abbey

And then, that most wonderful of traditions of the UK, clotted cream.  It is somewhere between butter and sour cream in texture, with a rich, nutty, buttery flavor.  Devonshire and Cornwall are noted for the thickest, richest clotted creams.  Unlike haggis that I could take or leave, this I can wake up craving.  And I figured all the times I indulged, a slather of it on a fresh scone with some jam....I would not fit in my clothes by the end of the journey.  But lots of stairs, lots of hilly streets, lots of paths worked it off.  

LODGINGS

While I was in Yellowstone, with limited internet connectivity, Chris was making most of the detailed plans for our trip, including purchasing the train passes, airline tickets to get across the pond, and most of the lodgings.   It was a treat for me to be surprised at each location with a totally different accommodation than the last.  The only lodging which got a negative rating was the one I made, after I was there, for York.  It was the starting weekend of a school term break and options were limited. The small guest house I stayed in was filthy and noisy with little chance of finding any place else.  Otherwise, places were all clean, all convenient, except farmhouses which were chosen for a fully different reason.  Some were quite basic while others were charming old homes with gracious hosts.

I already included some lodging photos in the two Scotland blog posts.  But here are a few of the other spots. 

I'll start with the two farm stays.  These were NOT walking distance to lots of historic sites as our city and town spots were.  But they had their own special qualities.  The only drawback of Mows Hill in Warwickshire was that it was our only one night stop.  This was a way-point between Wales and Stratford-on-Avon.   The farm has been in the family for many generations with another generation already involved in the running of the farm.  We did see the sheep, the fields and the old brick barns and outbuildings and the beautiful gardens.

Photos of Mows Hill follow

View from our window, across the sun-room where breakfast was served.

View of the back of the house from the garden

Trefusis Barton, in Flushing,  Maylor, Cornwall,  across the harbor from Falmouth was a great farm experience.  First, we had 4 nights which gave us more time.  Our breakfasts, as I mentioned above were in the kitchen.  I wish I had taken a photo there.   We met a new calf, wandered about, wearing Wellies which I discovered were an absolute necessity.  I walked down from the farm complex thru the rest of the estate, to the waterfront.  Earlier rains meant everything was wet, but I got a surprise when I stepped in a puddle on the dirt tract.  There was a spring above it and it was more than wet.  For a minute I thought I'd be leaving the boot behind as I struggled to pull free.

This farm is on  a larger estate.  The Laity family has leased the farmland and house for many generations.  I think Jessica said it goes back 260 years.   But this is the last generation.  There are no kids wanting to carry on.

After reading lots of English novels, devouring the entire "All Things Great and Small" series, and old movies, this farm fit my sense of English farms.  This scene says it to me.

the house is in the background, 

My muddy boots,.  It is hard to see looking down, but the mud came within
3" of the top of the  Wellies and the surface water threaten to go over the top  A faucet  and trough  outside the house gave me a place to clean up when I got back from my walk.  Chris was getting caught up on some work
and didn't accompany me on this little adventure.

Trail from Trefusis Barton down to the waterfront.  Walking along the waterfront would have taken us to the tiny passenger ferry that takes people from that side of the peninsula to Falmouth.

A more distant view shows both the farm house we stayed in (lest)  and the larger estate home (right) behind it.

A few other lodgings.

Our first two nights were in a new, very modern style hotel (and the only accommodation with an elevator.)
It was pleasant, the staff was outstanding and came from throughout the European Union.  Chris picked it because that building seen to the left from our window is the Cambridge Train Station.  Not only did we have a 50 yard walk, but Chris could catch the shuttle bus to the Duxbury  for the Battle of Britain Air Show the next morning.  I could walk to the colleges and downtown area.

Fun wallpaper graphics around tv screen in our Cambridge hotel

The two Chris's, our host and my traveling companion,
at the wonderful bed and breakfast in Chester.

My comfortable room in Whitby, Yorkshire.  This particular B&B, the Lansbury, offered a single rate which is what attracted me to it, since Chris had flown home by the time I headed to Yorkshire.  Turned out to be a great choice.  Nice hosts, spotlessly clean, quiet residential street and a short walk took me to the overlook of the harbor and Abbey ruins that inspired Bram Stokers, Dracula.   I was there shortly before Halloween and its quite a place to celebrate the holiday.   It was a recommendation of my hosts that sent me to the nearby town of Robin Hoods Bay which was a delight.

The sign on the left is the entrance to The Lansbury

Final Guest house, the Mentone in London.  Very tiny, single room but convenient for the train ride to catch my flight home.  And while tiny, it was laid out well and worked just fine.