Day 130: you can have your bird and eat it!

We organised a surprise stylish and sophisticated ‘hen-party’ for another J yesterday. I figured I could include one of the images today, as the day didn’t actually finished until the wee small hours of today, when we called upon our chariots, or Uber, to whisk us home.

 

Our first port of call was the Mandarin Oriental for afternoon tea. Each table had a golden metal tree from which our cage of sandwiches and cakes, desserts and pastries could be hung. The plates had beautiful hand-painted birds on them and knowing someone who loves birds, I return later to score one as a souvenir of the day for another J. Amazingly, the hen party was civilised enough for no porcelain to be damaged during our various travels around the west end.

In between the waves of sweet treats we had just warm-from-the-oven scones with cream and preserves. We then had a quick vote and decided quickly which would be our top recommendations from the sweet section. And the winners were the ooh so darkly fruity cassis macaroon and the delicate meringue nest filled with an unctuous mixed berry mousse studded with raspberries, strawberries, blackberries and scattered with flowers. They Rosebery Room waiting staff were kind enough to replenish these until we were fit to burst. Also a take home bag was prepared for us, but I suspected the nests would not travel well, they didn’t!

 

 

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Lymeward bound!

Going home for Christmas. That's what we generally do. There's songs written about it, movies dramatising the arduous journey. We expect traffic jams, violent weather, and delayed trains, as that's part of the tradition. I would always have way too many bags stuffed with elaborately wrapped presents for home and then a New Year in Cambridge. A massive M&S expedition would be on the horizon on arrival. I would be tasked with menu planning for the wider family party plus the more intimate festive fare, "never knowingly under-catered" was our motto!

My one regret is a lack of photos, from any of these lovely Christmases. But we always were a family of reluctant photographic subjects, so if I'd been attached to my camera as I am now, I'd probably have an artful, soft bokeh shot of the sprouts dusted with bacon slivers, and still not one of us!

A very early reoccurring memory is Christmas Day sat on the floor in front of the "visiting a children's hospital programme" in little Gran's front room (seemingly only used at Christmas), whilst I painstakingly ordered my new felt tip pen collection, yes there is a correct order! Even today I colour code my clients and arrange them in that very same order (my eight-year-old self would be very proud!)

Nowadays there's no home for Christmas for me, so I make other plans to celebrate the holiday. This isn't a cry for sympathy, just a fact. Of course I'm going to hark back to all those special times, the fabulously bedecked tables, the crazy obsession with canapés (that's you M!), the obligatory carols and festive films (D's domain), the first soft pfftt of a Champagne popping, the evocative aroma of M's Chanel No. 5, the patiently opening and admiring each present at midnight Christmas Eve before moving to the next, and the time we had a full Christmas lunch at 3am (and pretended it was normal!) A few ghosts of Christmas past, all treasured memories, surrounded by a train full of people going home for Christmas, I'm allowed a moment of wistfulness. And yes, secretly, I do wish that tomorrow morning I could set cross-legged in front of the TV, reordering my new felt pens!

But tomorrow there won't be any felt tips but I hope a delicious festive breakfast in my lovely hotel. I discovered Hotel Alexandra in Lyme Regis after a sadly slightly washed out photography workshop. Not that we hadn't had a great time and done fantastic photography but the weather really let us down. I stayed in the Alex, with the hatches firmly battened down but when the rain cleared I really enjoyed my time in Lyme. I figured it would make a great spot for one of my Christmas coast hotels but they haven't done a Christmas for thirty years. I checked them out again this year and fantastically they'd decided to lay on a Christmas package.

There's a fabulous warm welcome on arrival and I was delighted to hear of been upgraded to a larger room and more crucially, with a sea view. Immediately I set up my tripod and could try and capture the first seagull before a spot of afternoon tea. They've even provided a little robin ornament to decorate my room.

After a warm scone, the lure of the Jane Austen gardens and the distinctive lampposts had me wander out of the hotel grounds is search of my first sunset shot.

On returning, I added more sequins and headed down for a Christmas Eve dinner. I had remembered that the food is very good here and they don't disappoint. as usual there's the challenge of good photography on the ambient light in a dining room but I tried my best.

Feeling very pleasantly full, I retire to my elegant room and plan further photographic adventures tomorrow, no felt tips though!

 

 

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A juicy peach of a place

After our elegant pit stop we hit the meandering roads en route to the peach farm. I am not entirely sure I knew what to expect…except for perhaps peaches. But it actually transpired that the harvest had been early this year and peaches were now in surprisingly short supply, certainly on the trees. No branches heavy with perfumed fruit, though we did find some apples and luscious grapes whilst exploring the fields and orchards. Luckily they had held back a stash of their velvety peaches as they were certainly the finest peaches I have ever tasted. And they make rather nice subject for a photograph or two too!

 

Our tutor has family connections on the peach farm and they certainly rolled out the red carpet for us. They were so hospitable and invited us to stay for supper. I had been introducing the joys of miniature photography with Marcel the balloon seller to their lovely son, who was most keen to practise both English and photography. I didn’t have another Marcel to hand, but luckily I had my emergency back-up penguin (naturally) and could donate that to the cause of macro photography. Perhaps a rare occurrence of a penguin going to live on a farm!

 

After we had admired their photobooks, created from photos of a recent exotic holiday, it was time to take some more of our own. We checked out their impressive vintage tractor collection and fired off some shots of the fruit pickers at work. Then we went investigating the furthermost orchards, hoping for some late fruit, but the nectarines we found weren’t so photogenic. Undeterred we soon started to explore the joys of a dandelion clock, a gold/silver coloured framed sun-bounce reflector and the dying rays of sun.

 

Firstly we thought we’d experiment with the different effects achieved by flipping the reflector whilst ‘plamping’ the dandelion clock to have the sky in the background. But then we were struck by a desire to destroy every single dandelion seed head in the entire orchard by attempting to capture an action shot of the individual seeds parachuting away after blowing on the said dandelion clock. I cannot recall how many times we attempted to capture this effect in a single shot, in the end I had to resort to burst shooting and stacking multiple exposures in post-processing. Beyond frustrating! But on the bright sight, they won’t be troubled with dandelions for the rest of this year and possibly the next.

After our weed eradication we returned to the farm for the planned supper and join their other guests who had popped by. It transpired to be such an unexpectedly special and unforgettable evening. Only one of our group spoke French, but even without English we could somehow generally follow what was going on. We enjoyed fabulous cured meats courtesy of the twinkly eyes pig farmer (who, I suspect had better English that he let on!), lots of other delicious food and of course finished off with more of those astonishing peaches. What lovely people and a sublime, convivial evening. It was very hard to tear ourselves away to return to our rooms in Curnier for one final time. Tomorrow we have to leave all this and head home.

 

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Day 281 : burgerlicious!

HM and I were well overdue a meet up. We caught up on a few things at the London Photo Festival last week which was very lovely but we wanted a proper put the world to rights session. And this would involve food and possibly cocktails. HM suggested Lobster and Burger which I haven't yet tried. Deferring the aficionado of all things “burger” in the office, V, he said Patty & Bun was entirely the way to go! So we ditched the lobster and went St. Christopher’s Place for pure burger instead. HM was ahead of me so indulged in a bit of shopping and when my cab pulled up outside she was the last in the queue. HM explained that there was an hour wait to be seated and suggested another couple of places nearby. But we could most easily while away an hour with conversation and I'd read some very compelling review of both the burgers and the scattered with rosemary chips it seemed worth the wait. As it was, the wait was okay! We had plenty of work gossip to catch up on now HM has left the fold, she could model her new coat purchase, we could make our choice ahead of time from the menu outside, talk about our forthcoming holidays and built up our appetite. Finally we could stow our bags in the compact and eclectic restaurant and place our order. The mouth-watering aroma of juicy meat is pervading the place and increasing the anticipation further.

And when we receive our paper wrapped burger. Oh yes I can understand the plaudits. My burger may look naked to others as I eschew the tomato, lettuce, pickle, mayonnaise, tomato sauce and just focus on the shiny brioche bun, meat, smoky bacon and melted cheese. The chips have been lavished with praise on the Internet and they are very good indeed. The skin is on, there’s a slightly herby hit and they're crispy. And being a Northerner I have to add the chips to the burger, it extremely crucial. Patty and Bun don't give us plates because it’s easier if we consume these joyously messy burgers over the paper wrappings and they can be scrunched up afterwards. Okay the queue makes this not exactly fast food but this is a very glorious Smokey Robinson burger and chips indeed. Good call V!

 

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Day 253 : no penguins were harmed in the eating of this cake!

Some of the lovely people I work with arranged a surprise lunch at a local French restaurant I've been hankering to sample. One of Otto’s specialities is the canard à la presse, the renowned dish of the restaurant La Tour d’Argent in Paris. Coincidentally I had reservations for a birthday lunch a few years ago at that actual restaurant, plus other Parisian delights, before I had to cancel just before the trip due to one of our party basically...let’s say...ummm...ruining everything!

I have since returned to Paris several times but haven't yet availed myself of La Tour d’Argent’s fine cuisine, nor had the merest sniff of the acclaimed duck dish. Lunch today wasn't the time to break the duck (excuse the pun), not just because you have to preorder the dish, but it’s one to be savoured one evening, on another occasion. Nor did I partake in the famed steak tartare as I opted to join everyone in the set lunch menu, but this was far from a deprivation, as we had a most delicious and very filling lunch.

Even though I couldn't really eat a “waffer thin mint (sic)” they had also organised a beautiful chocolate cake from Cook and Konditor. One lavishly frosted with vanilla icing, studded with deep pink roses, and generously dusted with glitter. And briefly the penguins also cavorted (seemingly drunkenly) in the sumptuous frosting. I did remove them before slicing up the lighter-than-air cake though, I'm not sure I can stand to lose any more of my penguin flock. There’s one languishing in a museum of oddities just outside of Dijon in France, and Swedish CJ has temporarily kidnapped one for some fiendish plan involving her most scary Stasi dog...shudder!

I've had a lovely day, delicious food, fabulous company, a beautiful silver stiletto charm (thanks to EM), a plethora of cards and kind messages and a little bit of penguin. Birthday bliss!

 

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Day 210 : Lyon in colour

I'm relieved the rain has abated today I really want to explore Lyon and ideally not get too wet in the process. The winding little cobbled streets are flanked by coloured houses just begging to be photographed. The view from my hotel has a fine cluster of these houses overlooking the River Saône.

Lyon’s fortune was made in silk weaving and now Lyon is famed for the food. You cannot fail to see, smell and taste the importance of gastronomy to Lyon on every corner, in every street. There is a surfeit of cafés, brasseries, restaurants, patisseriers, boulangeries, and other eateries wherever you look. For a late lunch meandering through the tiny streets I settle for a Breton crêperie and a buckwheat “complete”. I want to conserve my appetite as Lyon is home to Paul Bocuse and I'm very keen to sample his wares on my visit.

I've been spoilt with excellent fine dining on our luxury barge, so I eschew the ’proper’ eponymous restaurant and make a reservation for his “Le Nord” restaurant instead. Now to spend the rest of the day building up an appetite. There's shopping to be done, I spotted some interesting sparkly things through the windows of the very shut shops yesterday. And Sonia Rykiel is having a sale, it would be rude not to! Armed with my new goodies I cross the pedestrian suspension bridge and explore more hiddley, piddley cobbled streets. In my enthusiasm I've left it late to return to the hotel to freshen up and try on my new purchases but I squeeze it in and head for the very typical French brasserie of Le Nord.

I'm not disappointed and certainly don't go home hungry after tucking into a couple of local specialities - Lyonnaise Frisée Salad with the meatiest chunks of lardons ever (possibly an entire pig cut into slices) followed by Veal Escalope with Macaroni Cheese.

As I discovered last night in the rain, walking along the Saône back to my hotel, that Lyon is also beautiful at night. The clearer weather has brought more people out and the steps leading done to the river are dotted with couples enjoying some alone time under the stars. Last night here, I’m determined to make the most of it.

 

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Day 126 : sausage and sausage and mash

When I was looking for a suitable ’owl’ substitute for my owl and the pussycat sailing away in a pistachio shell photograph, I noticed that my little collection of assorted animals appeared to contain a Dachshund.

It seemed too good an opportunity to miss. Inspired by cute photos of HR’s sausage dog puppy fabulously called Mash chasing fountains and chewing things much bigger than his little self I figured I'd be bad and play with my food. Or a little corner of it at least. In anticipation I'd been very diligent in slowly frying the sausages and constantly turning to minimise the inevitable striping. I was going for the Desperate Dan style of sausage and mash presentation but the mash was too buttery and not dense enough for that. However I still managed a pretty jaunty arrangement of the sausages impaling the mash but then, with my macro plus close up filter you couldn't really appreciate the artful arrangement.

Never mind, once removing the very miniature Dachshund, it was tasty too!

 

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