It's a weird thing to leave all that you know to go away on business, especially when it's longer than a few days. I've been doing it for years and it's always a strange mix of excitement and adventure that is offset with a longing to be home. Eating dinner in different places is right up my alley, but after a few days away, I just want to be home on my own couch watching Seinfeld and eating a tuna-fish sandwich with all of the kids and dogs and chaos that is Case de Calabrese.
You do what you can to keep yourself occupied and I did just that today. Here's a rundown on my Ferris Beuller"ish" day.
I woke up read the paper and worked out. A little strength training and a little running on the treadmill. I can't really tell you how many miles I tracked because everything here is metric. I ran a bunch of kilometers which is appropriately titled because it nearly "kilo'd me." After a some time in the steam room I showered and headed out to explore. Sorry no locker room stories to report.
My first stop was Borough Market which is almost literally under London Bridge. This was my destination for breakfast. My intent was to go from stall to stall and sample a little of this and a little of that. This is the precise place to do such a thing. The food options were endless and interesting ranging from Ostrich Eggs to fresh oysters, mulled ciders and wines as well as the freshest produce, breads and local cheeses. I almost stuffed myself on free samples of this and that, much like I've seen my father in law does at Sam's Club, yet there was a difference. No one was offering bits and pieces of Hot Pockets, Chimichangas or Pop Tarts.
I settled on a few items. I bought a baguette from a friendly french woman and a ball of real buffalo mozzarella. The texture on the outside was much like you've probably tasted, but the inside was very soft and creamy. It was kind of like the cheese version of Freshen Up gum. I also bought the most incredible Spanish ham that I'm sorry to admit surpasses the best Italian
Prosciutto. It was called
Joselito Gran
Reserva and definitely lived up to its name. One thing that you can be sure of is that I represented U.S. consumption by sitting on a bench and eating a whole ball of cheese, not to mention all of the other aforementioned culinary goodies.
My next stop was Taylor of Old Bond Street which is a very old and classic gentleman's shave shop. A friend and colleague of mine had told me that they give incredible shaves done the old fashioned way with hot towels, Badger Hair brushes and a straight edge razor. I've only had this done one other time. My good friend Geoffrey and I were treated by our wives to shaves on one of our classic "circuit" trips in Boston. Geoff and I walked through the door looking like two guys that just came out from behind the counter of one of those Greek pizza places that are always called, "insert city or town name here House of Pizza." You know the places I'm talking about; Greek style pizza served by 5 different guys behind the counter all wearing red and white striped shirts, Soccer (or more appropriately football) posters up on the wall, every one of them with a perpetual 5 o'clock shadow and every one of them referring to you as, "Hey Joe, Hey Buddy, or Hey Guy." I love those places. Anyway the guy that was to shave us took one look at Geoff and I and immediately knew he was in for a long ride, especially with Geoff. Now it's important to know that because of Massachusetts state law, barber shops and shave shops can't use an actual straight razor, this because of the potential spread of certain diseases. What they use is a modified version of a straight edge that has a replaceable blade. Now the guy told us that it's not unusual to go through one or two razors on someone who has a tough beard. He went through 6 with Geoff. He said it was like trying to shave a Brillo pad. I swear when I looked over I saw little sparks coming off the blade as it passed over Geoff's Iron filings. When it was my turn things went no better. As we left the gentleman that shaved us looked like he had run a marathon. He was slumped in the corner looking distraught and covered with one of those aluminum foil looking blankets while holding a Dixie cup of water. I think he was either contemplating a new career or getting a portable sand blaster for the shop; But I digress.
My experience at Taylor of Old Bond Street was far better, at least it was when I finally found the place. You see, Taylor of Old Bond Street isn't on Old Bond Street. What's worse is that in the general the General Vicinity of Taylor of Old Bond Street, which again, isn't on Old Bond Street there is Bond Street and New Bond Street each of which I visited from end to end. If you ever find yourself in London and you want to visit Taylor of Old Bond street, You won't find it on Old, new or or even James Bond street. It's Jermyn Road. So much for truth in advertising and so much for a relaxing shave.
Actually it was a very relaxing and a great experience. I got the works: the hot towel, the hot shave cream lathered with a fine badger hair brush, the icy burn of the after shave with a Witch Hazel bouquet that reminded me of my grandfather, and the cool, soft and soothing moisturizing balm that smelled of almonds and honey, all facilitated with a delicate care of my man George. I never thought a man could be so, so...gentle.
After I left the shave shop I walked just a few doors down to the Davidoff store for a fine hand rolled cigar. I spent a good hour in the huge walk in humidor admiring the selection of Havanas and at the same time being horrified by the prices. In the end I purchased just one cigar that I would savor as I peacefully strolled through Hyde Park.
Unfortunately, or fortunately for me there was to be no peace in Hyde Park. What there was in place was a full blown carnival to celebrate the holidays, and this was like no other carnival I had ever seen. Not to imply that it was improper in anyway, but I've never been to a carnival that had beer gardens and Jagermeister booths. I walked around and people watched. I hung out at a haunted house feature and couldn't believe how scary they made it considering it was geared toward kids. Regardless I had fun taking pictures of people getting spooked by probably a Jagermeister influenced German wearing a menacing looking costume.
I jumped back on the Underground or "Tube" and headed to the National Gallery where I moved form room to room admiring the paintings by Renoir, Van Gogh, Degas, Rembrandt, and one by Leoanardo da Vinci. This one blew me away. Even though it was only a drawing or a "cartoon" prep for a painting, I couldn't believe I was looking at it.
From there it was back on the Underground and back across London Bridge. A quick nap, and a quick shower and I was back out and having dinner at a little bistro' across the street from my
hotel. It's a great little place with interesting food. I sat at the bar, first and foremost because I was alone, but also because I could watch the chef and staff work. I also had my book club reading with me. I read a few pages while I dined on spiced tuna
carpaccio with sliced fennel and mandarin orange slices. Then an order of fresh roasted partridge, fingerling potato and banana shallots. I've never had partridge before and I was surprised how difficult it was to eat. I tried using a fork and knife but it was too unwieldy, so I started picking it apart with my fingers. This must have been wrong, because the waitstaff came over to me with a finger bowl full of water and sliced lemon and not one but three cloth napkins. Again, America is represented!
Now I sit, write and reflect while I listen to the new Tom Waits release. Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could might miss it! Smart guy that Ferris. Hope he gets better soon.
