Paris Je t'aime! Day 5 Highlights (Or, My Introduction to French Street Crime n' Porn)

Bright and early Christa and I make a bee line for the Louvre. But first things first - we need breakfast. A quick stroll around the musee and we run into Angelina's, home to a beautiful cafe and tearoom.

Beautiful...and completely out of our budget for the morning. 

Thankfully, Angelina's also sells small treats in their gift shop, including...

MACARONS!  I score a creme, pistachio, and lait-flavored trio. And they are diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiviiiiiiiine! Soft and chewy and melty and just every other mouth-watering adjective ending in a "y." I may have whimpered while eating them. Twice. 

Back to the Louvre. The first thing we see is the distinctive glass sculpture in front. The second thing we see is the line to get in. The long, long, long, long line. No thank you, please. The desire to not wait in line supersedes any desire to see the Mona Lisa. We opt to take photos and walk around the building instead.

My photo-op turns out to be more exciting than anticipated, as Christa pulls me out of the way at the last second before I'm taken out by a police officer chasing down a pick pocket who's just grabbed some poor woman's purse. We watch this live-action "Cops" (or should I say "Flics"?) for a few minutes and leave after seeing the perp drop the bag, hurdle some shrubs on the grounds, and then sprint away. 

It's still unseasonably warm, so we decide to take a stroll through the Jardin des Tuileries. 

It's stunning - a great place to sit and relax (as many people were already doing). It also seems to be the place to go if you want to sunbathe, make out, or eat your McDonald's cafe takeout.

Towards the other end of the Jardin, Christa and I notice a large tent that is just blasting house music. So naturally we have to check it out. A few steps in and I notice a sign that reads "Guy Laroche." And suddenly it dawns on us: The tents we've noticed aren't weddings - they're fashion shows. 

Yup! It looks like we synced our trip with Fashion Week in the city. A quick look around reveals hordes of well-dressed individuals and pretty people trying to gracefully walk past the equally-large groups of photographers. 

No one stops to photograph us. Shame.

Christa suggests a walk up the Champs-Elysées to the Arc de Triomphe. It's impressive. It's also located next to a mammoth Cartier. Which is framed by an distractingly large pile of trash on the sidewalk.

(Christa getting photo-bombed)

Cartier has us inspired. We decide to do some more window shopping and I lead us over to Le Bon Marché, which roughly translates to "the good (or cheap) deal." It is a beautiful store but TOTALLY misnamed. The Valentino floor may have been the most decently priced, if that's any indication for you.

Time to head somewhere more fitting with our budget. Christa suggests we check out Montmartre to see the Moulin Rouge. 

It's the first thing you notice stepping off the Metro. The second thing you notice is the plethora of strip clubs. So. Many. Strip clubs. And viewing booths. And adult clothing shops. And Musée de l'érotisme (aka, the Museum of Eroticism). And something called the Supermarche Erotique, which as best as I can figure translates to "the Erotique Supermarket."

All this walking and adult entertainment has given us an appetite, so we find a little creperie and sit for a spell. I order a savory spinach and cheese with mushrooms. Soooooooooooooo gooood.

.....But sooooooooooooo much butter! My stomach reminds me that I am not meant to ingest that much heavy dairy at one go.

More shopping! We're in Montmartre for (1) the Moulin Rouge and (2) a small vintage store I'd read about called Mamie. Talk about a hidden gem! I do some digging and find a vintage scarf for my mom and a new travel bag for myself. 

It's after 4pm by the time I finish blowing out my checking account and we're fading fast. It's time for a nap. Back at the apartment, Christa reads from her guide book that Montmarte was home and stomping gounds to the likes of Lautrec, Degas, Monet... I wonder out loud what they would have thought of their old hangouts evolving into XXX shops. Christa supposes they would have probably had their own shops. 

Reunited with Meredith, we have dinnner at Tien Hang again. It's still amazing. (I enjoy a faux duck dish that still visits my dreams.) Plus, there's a half dressed man flouncing around in the apartment across the street from the restaurant, so it's dinner AND a show. I manage to order, ask for the bill and thank the hostess for a lovely evening in pseudo-perfect French. Woo hoo!

The three of us decide it's a good night to drink at home. Christa and I head over to the local Monop, where the most expensive bottle of wine is 12€. (Lord bless this country!) We give up all pretense of being worldly tourists and guzzle merlot while watching what appears to be a French version of "What not to Wear" before collectively passing out.

Paris Je t'aime! Day 3 & 4 Highlights (Or, my attempt at Ginger Pumpkin Macarons)

*With Mere away at work, I hang out at the flat waiting for our friend Christa to arrive. I find myself caught up watching (1) the Fiji v. Samoa Rugby World Cup game and (2) Le Destin de Lisa, which is like Ugly Betty, except it's German and I'm engrossed in French-dubbed version for close to 2 hours. (Seriously, it's riveting stuff.)

*The apartment manager arrives to fix the washing machine and mentions passing a blonde girl with a suitcase on the stairs. Turns out Christa's here!

(Christa's shoes, which she insists smell like puppies. I think the jetlag got to her.)

*Christa and I engage in lunch eating and people-watching. She teaches me how to ask for the check in French. Which it seems I have been doing really, really, really wrong.

*My goal for the day is to check out one of the big flea markets in the City, Les Puces in Clignancourt. Thanks to extensive directions courtesy of Jordan at Oh Happy Day, we manage to make it past the UBER-sketch vendor vans and find ourselves exploring one of the largest open-air markets I've ever seen. This place is MASSIVE. It takes several hours to explore all of it, and I'm still not convinced that we did. Both Christa and I manage to score some unique buys for home, friends, and family.

*We head back to the apartment to wait for Mere. No dice. Homegirl texts to say she's been kidnapped by her co-workers for dinner and drinks after work. (She's eventually able to escape around 2:30am.)

*Since Christa and I are on our own we decide to walk around Montmarte for dinner and drinks. Thank God Parisians like to eat late, because it's after 10pm before we manage to sit down.

*The next day we all wake up to the sound of screaming teenagers and rolling garbage bins. What the hell?

*It's apparently some kind of protest taking place at a nearby school, the Lycée Turgo. Despite Christa's investigations, we never do figure out what was going on that morning, except that the bins were stacked up against the protesters' target building. (We later discover that it has something to do with pension reform.) Christa does, however, return with a pain au chocolate for me, earning my most sincere admiration for all eternity.

*Mere is back at work with a hangover, so Christa and I are once again the Dynamic Duo for the day. Armed with the book Parisian Chic (recommended by fellow blogger Shannon over at The Simply Luxurious Life), we decide to do some shopping. Unfortunately, there's a typo in the book and as a result we walk for friggin MILES with no luck.

*We eventually stumble upon the Hôtel de Ville...

*More importantly, we stumble upon one of the shops mentioned in my book: BHV or Bazaar de l'Hôtel de Ville, one of Paris' most iconic department stores. What is it with the French and their super-sized shopping centers? This place is at least 7 floors of merchandise. By the time we make it through 3 floors' worth of shopping, we're about to crash from low blood sugar. Time to eat!

*Lunch is followed by the one museum I'm actually geeked to check out: the Musée Rodin. It turns out that the musée costs 10€ to check out, but the jardin costs 0€. No brainer there. Besides, the jardin is home to some of Rodin's most famous pieces: 

*Part of our view of the jardin is blocked by a massive white tent. Christa and I ponder just how much you have to shell out to have your wedding amongst Rodin's artwork. We check out the museum giftshop, where I buy a pen that comes with a moving figure of  the Thinker on one end. Classy.

*The kids are still protesting, albeit more silently, in front of the Turgot.

*We, of course, couldn't care less, as Christa has a sudden hankering for macarons. We find some at a local boulangerie - a 6-pack of mini-rainbow-colored delights. Christa is semi-elated, since she's not convinced these were made in-house. Not that this stops her from generously sharing.

*It's a bust. Christa explains how a proper macaron will melt in your mouth, both crispy and creamy at the same time. The search will have to continue. But first: a nap! Followed by dinner at a lovely vegetarian bistro called Soya. I mistakenly order a carafe of rosé instead of a glass. Or did I?

And now, for your recipe......

*****************************************************

This fuss over macarons piqued my interest. I mean, how good could they really be?

Pretty f'ing amazing, as it turns out. (But more about that later.) After returning home, I decided to give making macarons a try.

Unfortunately, an online search for macarons will turn up cooking instructions that put baking these crispy treats on par with neurosurgery. Turns out macarons are temperamental little f*ckers: one misstep and you end up with cracked shells, hollow meringues and broken dreams.

Tasty broken dreams, of course, but fractured nonetheless.

I scoped out a few different bloggers and came up with an amended recipe for Pumpkin Ginger Macarons.

How did they turn out?

Meh.

They were DELICIOUS, granted, but I think I fudged the macronage stage (when you mix the dry ingredients into the whipped egg whites). There's a test you can use to see if you've under-mixed the batter, which I've included in the recipe.

Godspeed to you, fellow bakers. And as per usual, enjoy!

***************************************
Ginger-Pumpkin Macarons

(Adapted from Bravetart.com)

(NOTE: I STRONGLY suggest you check out Bravetart.com's macaron Myths and Commandments postings. They'll make you a stronger baker, promise.)

INGREDIENTS:

4 oz (115g) almond flour (Red Mill makes a decent one)

8 oz (230g) powdered sugar

5 oz egg whites (144g)

2 1/2 oz (72g) granulated sugar

1 vanilla bean, scraped, or 2 tsp vanilla extract

1/2 tsp (2g) salt

1/4 tsp (2g) pumpkin pie spice

1/4 tsp (2g) ground ginger (powdered form, please!)

a few drops of orange food coloring (optional)

DIRECTIONS:

Line 2 sheet pans with parchment paper (or with a silicone baking mat). Set aside.

Preheat the oven to 300°F/148°C. Sift the flour with the powdered sugar and set that mess aside. (You can go ahead and toss any clump or lumps that wouldn't sift.)

Place the egg whites into the bowl of your standing mixer (you can use a hand mixer here, but be prepared to do some work). Mix on medium speed for 3 minutes, until the egg whites start to look frothy. Add the granulated sugar, the scraped vanilla bean or vanilla extract, and salt. Mix on medium-high speed for another 3-4 minutes. Your egg whites should begin to form soft peaks. Add the pumpkin pie spice and the powdered ginger. Mix at high speed for another 3-4 minutes. Add the food coloring (if using) and whip for another minute. Your egg whites should form nice, shiny white peaks. Go ahead and pick up the bowl. Turn it upside down. If the egg whites stay in place, well done! If not, shower and try again.

Now here's the part where I miffed up a bit. You need to incorporate the dry ingredients into your egg whites. Sounds easy right?

Not so much. This stage, the macronage as it's been called, is where you can make or break your macarons. (Kitchen Musings has some great explanations for this.) Using a rubber spatula, fold in your dry ingredients into the egg whites (break the contents of the bowl into 2 halves to make mixing the dry ingredients a bit easier). Your goal here is to completely incorporate the flour/sugar combo. That means you need to SCRAPE THE SIDES while you're working the batter.

There's no need to sweat with panic, as there's an easy test to check if your batter is done. Every 5 - 10 stirs, spoon a little bit of the mixture onto a plate, making a small puddle of batter. If the puddle has a peak that won't dissolve, you need to keep stirring. If the peak does dissolve quickly (i.e., your batter flows like lava) then you're good to go! Check out Dulce Delight's clip on YouTube for a visual reference.

Spoon your batter into a piping bag. (No bag? No biggie! Just clip the corner off of a quart-sized ziplock bag and be sure to watch your pressure.) Pipe the batter into 1 1/2in discs on the baking sheets, keeping them approx 1-in apart. (Seriously, the batter spreads while cooking, and no one wants a double-macaron. Or DO they???) Rap the pans against the counter a few times to work out any air bubbles and them let them rest for 15 minutes or so (feel free to go longer if you like).

Place the baking sheet in the oven for 12 - 18 minutes. Why the huge time range? Well, basically ovens are like finger prints - no two are the same. (That is to say, some have hot spots while others can maintain a consistent temperature.) To accommodate for this , you'll want to check in on your macarons at the 12 minute mark. Try to pop off a meringue. It should stick a bit to the pan without separating entirely. You can also go ahead and tap one sucker in the middle. If it's super gooey, you need to cook them a bit longer. Close the oven door and check on them every 2 minutes until done. Completely cools the cookies in the pan.

The filling is considerably easier to assemble: Simply blend together 1/4 cup pumpkin puree (aka, canned pumpkin), 4 oz (or half a box) of cream cheese, 2 tbsp powdered sugar (or more to taste), and 1/4 tsp ground cloves.

Pipe or spoon a quarter-sized dollop onto a cooled macaron shell and sandwich together with an unfrosted half.

Now for the hard part: HANDS OFF. No, seriously - macarons need time to "ripen." So stick those suckers in an air-tight container and sit on your hands for a night before snacking.

Even if your first attempt is a bit of a fiasco, I promise that they'll be the best tasting mistake you've ever made. Paula Deen suggested turning failed macarons into a trifle, and that sounds like a better plan than crying over cracked cookies anyday.

Let me know if you need a tissue. Good luck!

Paris Je t'aime! Day Two Highlights

* We wake up and realize it's Sunday, which means most of Paris will be closed for the day. This is a tad problematic as said closures include supermarkets and several restaurants. So I flip through some of suggestions shared by Parisian-based blogger Jordan of Oh Happy Day! and we opt to hit up the open market.

*Mere and I metro over to the Eiffle Tower to find the market. We find instead several break dance performances (I find out that Mere was a breaker in a past life. Who knew?), the remanents of the something called the Paris-Versailles Le Grande Classique, and something else called the Famillathon.

*We even come across the pools in front of the l'Ecole Militaire, which appears to be quite popular with the locals.

*What we don't find is the market (which, I figure out later, was at least one stop before the Tower. Sorry, Mere!) This doesn't change the fact that we're both starving, so we sit down at a local cafe for brunch. Mere has an AMAZING dish that consists of artichokes and chanterelle mushrooms lovingly bathed in butter and chives, while I did into a salad and a roasted avocado.

*We walk back towards the tower. On the way, we come across a photography exhibit outside along the Seine. We take our time looking at each country's contribution.*Home again! Of course, it's a bit unnerving when we pass some 4 or so vans full of armed police en route. They're just standing around for the moment, chatting. There doesn't appear to be any crisis. For now...

*Since cooking at home is out, Mere and I take a look online for some dinner ideas. We find a place suggested by another blog, HiP Paris. The restaurant is actually open on Sundays. Hooray!

*What the hell is that noise? Mere and I look outside. So that's why the police were out and about: There's a street protest taking place! 

*Apparently, there's a fellow named GBagbo who may have been unjustly detained (and taken into custody by French military) in the Cote de Ivoire. The protest is over and out of ear shot within 20minutes.

*Time for wine!

*We make our way to our dinner selection for the evening: Tien Hang. It's hole-in-the-wall joint that serves some 60 vegetarian items, all of which can be prepared as vegan entrees upon request.

*Holy crap this place is AMAZING! I have a black pepper "steak" clay pot that brings a tear to my eye it tastes so good. I also have an order of steamed dumplings and split a spicy papaya salad with Mere. Coconut juice with large shreds of coconut meat to drink. Sticky rice on the side. It's way, way too much food for one person but I persevere.

*We roll out of the restaurant and walk a bit just to aid the digestion process. Also pitching in: a glass of cognac ordered at a bar near the Bastille (Mere opts for champagne). Time to metro home before I fall over again. There's an accordion player at the metro stop. Nice.

THINGS I HAVE NOT SEEN IN PARIS:

1. Mimes
2. Unshaven Ladies
3. Berets

THINGS I HAVE SEEN IN PARIS:

1. Smoking. SO. MUCH. SMOKING.
2. Fashion shows (more on that later)
3. Public Protests
4. Crazies in the Metro/on the Metro
5. Little Dogs
6. Couples mid-Makeout Session
7. Naked Rugby Players on TV (more on that later, too)

Paris Je t'aime! Day One Highlights

*Spend the flight squished into my seat. The other seats are occupied by a nice, though portly, elderly couple who are apparently new to international travel. I show them how to use the in-flight entertainment system correctly. Twice. As sleeping becomes increasingly less of an option, I decide to watch Midnight in Paris (yay!) and Something Borrowed (not so yay) instead.

*I make it through customs (which, seriously - do they even bother checking for banned items?)  and onto the train. At the metro station I ask a young girl for directions to the Rue des Fontaines du Temple. No luck. I ask again. No dice. I figure my French can't be that bad. I ask an ice cream truck vendor, who (1) corrects my speech and then (2) points me in the right direction. I start walking and realize that I've managed to surface from the Metro right into a Deaf-rights awareness rally. It seems I was using the wrong kind of French in this instance.

*Finally make it to the apartment Mere has rented for the week. We hug and realize that we're wearing matching outfits. Huh. I desperately want a shower, but that may send me straight into a coma so I opt for a change of clothing and we hit the streets instead. We stop for lunch at a cafe, where I place a garbled order for an omelette and a glass of rosé. People watching ensues.

*Commence project Keep Adrienne Awake to Fight Jetlag. Which consists of more walking. Lots more. At least it's nice out - Paris is experiencing an unusual break in the weather this week. Fine by me! We pop into a sports bar quickly so I can ask about the France v. All Blacks game. (Which my team won, thank you very much!)

*We end up at Notre Dame de Paris, which is very cool. And extremely crowded. 

* More walking. We explore the Latin Quarter. I almost buy a handmade animated music box for 72 euros but sanity stays my hand. We eventually stop for caffeine and beer, which made sense at the time.
*We start to walk towards the Bastille. We're a few blocks away when my feet start to really, really hurt and I'm having trouble staying awake while standing, which is a new and unpleasant experience for me. We metro back to the apt and I cat nap for a few minutes.

*Using what has to be the slowest Internet connection in the Western world, we find some vegetarian places to eat dinner and some bars to drink in afterwards. Time to put on our fancy clothes before hitting the town!

*Dinner is ...not good. But the drinks - now those are impressive. We first stop at the Experimental Cocktail Club near Montorgueil. It's tiny and there are a LOT of people crammed in there, but the music is all kinds of fantastic. And the cocktails are off the friggin chain. I have a Brunette, which contains something like 6 types of liquor (I'm estimating based on how loopy I felt after just one), while Mere has something called the Experience. All I know is that it contains lemongrass. And a hefty dose of deliciousness.

*The next place is a Brit-rock-like pub. There's no other way to describe. We're definitely out of our age group and the top shelf liquor appears to be Jack Daniels. I settle for a whiskey and make Mere watch some of the soccer game that's played on a big screen in the main room. All kinds of 80s and 90s Brit rock and pop is coming out of a smokey room on the side, which we check out. I last all of 6 minutes before heading for the exit.

*We stumble around some more before I pull a full pumpkin and beg for a cab. We manage to find some in front of the Opéra de Paris, which is beautiful. However, I am just too damned tired to care at this point.

*We make it back to the apt, but Mere is hungry. This proves problematic as (1) it's after two in the morning and (2) Mere is vegan. Most of the kitchens we find serve either meat or cheese (seriously - even the one salad we were offered was a cheese salad). We finally find a fried chicken joint that for reasons I don't quite understand has a veggie burger on it's menu. SOLD. It's a crappy burger, but mine comes with fries and a Fanta, so I'm good and happy.

*FINALLY- we make it home! We watch a dubbed episode of Supernatural and I enjoy another 1/2 glass of wine before completely crashing.

*It's the end of my first Saturday in Paris and I'm equal parts exhausted and stoked.

*I still need that shower though...

Monday Blah-buster

I had a wonderful set of photos and stories about various topics, including:

• BHE's and mine questionable decision to celebrate our anniversary by completing a private bar crawl of every joint in our neighborhood. Good times! However, there's a reason we stopped doing these after grad school.
• The A-M-A-Z-I-N-G meal BHE and I had at the Woodberry Kitchen to celebrate aforementioned anniversary, which included the C.M.P. (Malt ice cream, chocolate sauce, marshmallow fluff, roasted peanuts). Duff of Ace of Cakes fame drooled about the dish on The Best Thing I Ever Ate.

Note: It's not even the best dessert on the friggin menu!

• Pics from my time in Chicago, where I got to watch my formerly little cousin kick bum as wing for his rugby 7s team and spent time making Baby Button giggle while hanging out with my BFF and her hubby. 

Instead, the ether-verse has once again erased most of my photos, leaving me with the following to entertain you this Monday morning.

In our first installment, BHE and I like to troll garage/yard sales, Salvation Army shops, and Goodwill stores from nifty home items (more on that in an upcoming post). Things like baskets, bar ware, a Julia Homer Wilson original, and a nifty pint glass with Ringo Starr painted on the side (SCORE.). Granted, they can't all be winners...

Is it too much?

Our final piece comes courtesy of the 2011 ArtScape festival here in Charm City. It's apparently America's largest free arts festival, though from what I saw it was mostly food booths and a LOT of people crammed into a small section of Mt. Vernon. Still, we saw some cool stuff. BROS performed on a small stage, BHE found a print that made him smile, and I managed to locate the art car exhibit:

Not too shabby for a week and a half. 

This week I plan to partake in the time-honored tradition that is the Birthday Week. Mine, to be specific. I've got plans to enjoy some drinks, to go out for dim sum, and - fingers crossed - to close on our first home.

Of course, work beckons in the meantime. Hope your Monday is treating you with kid gloves, hon! See you at my birthday happy hour Friday. :)

Until then - Enjoy!

Viva (Recovery from) Las Vegas/New Podcast Rec

Happy post Valentine's, everybody! I hope you had a chance to spend a moment or three with your loved one/partner/BFF/pet goldfish, enjoying each other's company. Or, if you were me and BHE, trying not to vomit during the less-than-steady landing of your Delta flight into BWI.

Today I'm back in the office, slooooooowly trying to recover from a weekend of shenanigans in none other than that beacon of all things decadent: Las Vegas. Home to numerous stage acts, all you can eat buffets, and the occasional C-List MTV reality star.

Keep it classy, Vegas!

During V-day weekend, Las Vegas also hosts the US leg of the International Rugby Sevens. This would be my 5th time at the sevens (my 4th here in the US) and this most recent trip did not disappoint. Well, except for that part where NZ lost to Fiji in the semi-finals, but otherwise it was all good. Sevens Rugby is joining the Olympic lineup in 2016, so this as good a chance as any to see what the fuss is all about. Plus, this is pretty much the only sporting event I've been to where venues encourage interaction between players and fans. Without going into detail about the number of rugby parties attended, let me just say that the English 7s team is an exceptionally

tall bunch.

Seriously, put it on your to-do list for 2012.

Anywho, because most of my time was spent either watching the games, sitting in front of a penny slot, or at a 7s-sponsored party watching girls trying to hit on rugby players, I didn't have a chance to take in much of Vegas' culinary offerings. I did manage to sneak into the Vosges shop at Caesar's Palace.

BHE and his 7s weekend mustache with the Vosges Bacon Caramel Toffee.

Alas, the bacon toffee was bit out of my price range, so I settled for the Balsamico (12-year aged balsamic vinegar mixed with dark chocolate and Sicilian hazelnuts) and Red Fire (Mexican ancho and chipotle chillies with cinnamon and dark chocolate) truffles instead.

We also (finally!) made a side trip for BHE's and my first ever In-N-Out burger! It's no Five Guys, but the burgers held their own. The fries...not so much. My buddy Erin said it best:

"They taste like those potato sticks that come in a can."

Best money I spent that weekend, excluding tickets to see the Lion King (Go. NOW.) and of course my favorite penny slot at the Mandalay Bay:

There's a wild card feature that includes an animated Bruce Lee performing a high side kick. PHENOMENAL!

******************And now, your non-recipe...

Unless you count opening your straw and doing that little knot trick with the wrapper, I was off cooking detail this week. I did, however, come across a new podcast that I think you'll enjoy:

Try it if you like other NPR fare such as Wait! Wait! Don't Tell Me! or How Stuff Works podcasts like Stuff You Should Know.

On a side note, I'm making a more serious effort to study French and need a practice buddy with an Internet connection and a good bit of patience. If you know of anybody (or happen to be that somebody), just shoot me an email. I'll cook!

Thanks! And Enjoy!

Visiting Another Island: Notes and Bites from the UK

After much searching/cleaning of the house, I FINALLY found the cable to our camera! Which means I can now share some Kodak moments from my recent work trip to the UK.

First, the SITES:

I initially spent a few days in Newcastle upon Tyne attending a conference and fighting a head cold that Tony so generously shared just as I was leaving. So I didn't see a whole lot of the city aside from what could be reached on foot.

The Sage Gateshead. Normally a music venue, but it has several auditoriums that suited the conference. Despite the larval-like shape, it's a gorgeous building inside. Plus, the conference provided a really decent lunch, which made up for the lackluster poster session that served as the purpose for my trip in the first place.

Street art. I think. (I just like random pop culture and Pac-man references.)

Newcastle University. It sort of popped out of nowhere and I just stumbled on the campus.

The current production at the local theater. It's a musical.

2 1/2 days later and I was back in London, taking in the sites and getting my nerd on. I met a good from of mine (a Kiwi who's now living in the UK) at the Borough Market for lunch and a serious walking tour of the city center.

The Market is just the mother of all outdoor markets. It had EVERYTHING - meats, crafts, cheeses, produce. You name it and there's probably a stall for it. And it smelled AMAZING. I could have spent hours there alone, but I was starving. So, instead, said friend and I grabbed some ostrich burgers and one of the more decant brownies I've had in my lifetime for dessert, and caught up over lunch while sitting by the Thames. Very relaxing.

My trip happened to coincide with the Mayor's Thames Festival, an annual event and London's largest free outdoor arts festival. Neat! We had a look-see as said friend took me across town.

On this particular day, the Southward Bridge was home to the Feast on the Bridge event. Food vendors and family activities galore.

Stinky Cheese.

I, of course, was completely distracted by one of the community projects festival goers could enjoy: the Gingerbread Southward Bridge. You could decorate little gingerbread people to walk across it.

Said friend then took me out to enjoy some other sites the city has to offer...

The Tower Bridge.

The Tower of London.

Trafalgar Square. This is the Fourth Plinth, which changes every so often to display different commissioned works of art. This piece, Nelson's Ship in a Bottle, is the first piece commissioned by a Black British artist.

By the time I made it back to my hotel from my walking tour, my cold was on it's last legs. That did not, however, prevent me from losing my voice entirely. I opted to stay in for the night and hit the British Museum the next morning.

The great thing about the Museum is that it's free. The bad thing about the Museum is that everyone knows it. The place is absolutely rammed - tourists are practically spilling off the stairwells. And honestly I got lost a few times just trying to navigate the place, which is indescribably immense. (That said, they're antiquities exhibit is off the friggin chain.)

Still, I managed to find the thing I really wanted to take a peak at. Not Cleopatra's mummy (which is on display. Weird.). Not the marble reliefs from the Parthenon. Nope, my inner geek craved something older:

It's the Rosetta Stone! Be still my nerdish heart!!

After a few hours, I had to leave. I was mentally drained and crowds of camera-wielding tourists are not my thing. Still, I cannot recommend the Museum enough. The only bummer from my visit was discovering that I wouldn't be in London long enough to check out their upcoming exhibit.

Now, I was ALL kinds of giddy about finding this, because as a kid I watch a lot of Sesame Street and Sesame Street specials, including the 1983 classic, "Don't Eat the Pictures." The special follows the adventures of the SS gang after they're accidentally locked in the Metropolitan Museum of Art for a night. One of the story lines involves Big Bird, who with the assistance of pal Snuffle-upagus, is trying to help the ghost of a young Egyptian boy reach the afterlife.

Admittedly themes of the soul and afterlife are pretty heavy topics for the Children's Television Workshop, but I watched the crap out of that video nonetheless.

There were visits to Camden Town and a few parks here and there as well, but let's forget about that and move on to the important part of the trip.

Namely, the FOOD...

I visited more than a few cafes while in Newcastle. I had a few Newcastle Brown Ales and the odd sandwich. Since I wasn't feeling 100%, all I really wanted was some broth, which as it turns out is really difficult to find this time of year. So, I ate a lot of salads just to try to ingest some vitamins.

A Greek Quinoa Salad from Blake's Cafe, with a latte on the side. I would have thrown in some feta and maybe some pine nuts instead, but still pretty decent.

A phenomenal Tomato and Celery Soup from Cafe Bistro Buee. Wine on the side, of course.

A surprisingly tasty Veggie Club with Halumi Cheese from the cafe located in the Baltic Centre for Contemporary Art.

Simple Gnocchi courtesy of my hotel's room service. I had to order in person because - having lost my voice entirely - they couldn't understand me over the phone.

Museum cafe treats once again. But seriously, when was the last time you had a Prosciutto and Roasted Tomato tart option at the Smithsonian?

By Sunday evening I was ready to resume full entrees again. Cue my good friend Jennie, who insisted we head to local gastro-pub for a proper English Roast and Yorkshire Pudding. We ended up at the Alma in Newington Green, which in addition to some fine menu items, also serves a healthy range of beers, wines, and NZ-based products. (Pineapple lumps, anyone?)

The Alma seemed to be quite the place to be on a Sunday evening (i.e., the place was packed). Rather than wading through the crowd for more beverages, we decided to make a pit stop at a second pub so I could have pint of bitters (at least I think that's what that was) and then it was time for me to head home.

Now I'm back State-side and still a tad exhausted, but thrilled I got to visit with some good friends over some exceptional eats. Here's hoping I won't be so long between visits next time.

Cheers!