April swales bring Big Bumba snails

True to form, April Showers are here, but rather than bringing May flowers, I have stumbled across a new variation of the adage. Living in my wellies and permanently sheltered under my brolly, my line of vision has seldom wavered from the slippery red bricks that line the 0.7mile walk to the tube from my flat. It was with this focused gaze today that I saw not one, not two, but THREE Big Bumba snails on my way to and from work.

Tough picture, will search for a non-nocturnal one to replace this

For those who may be missing the reference here – Big Bumba (buhm-bah) is a longstanding family word, originating on, what else, the good old softball diamond. Primarily used to aid in teaching the receiving position of the first baseman, with applications to participation in run-downs as well as the act of catching stealing runners, Big Bumba was The Skip’s go-to term for describing why you needed to get out of the way of the runner. Modestly using himself as a Big Bumba example, The Skip would “barrel” down the line (by barrel I mean shuffle his feet, move his head from side to side, and wave his arms around) to mock run into/knock down whoever was standing in his way. It has since become the standard term used for any being that is extremely larger than the norm. (and in softball, they were more likely to be Bumbas than non)

It should also be noted that this was very much contradictory to everything he taught me about soccer, preaching to his little munchkin daughter “the bigger they are the harder they fall,” but that’s neither here nor there for this story.

Back to the snails. Growing up in Long Island you never would have blinked twice if you saw a monster slug crawling across your driveway, but THIS was something I couldn’t ignore.  These were the English, more proper, slightly better dressed slugs from my childhood! Seems that over here even the mollusks are stuffy and pretentious enough to always cover up with extravagant, vintage shells. 

Until this wet weather subsides I would imagine I will be seeing more of my single muscular footed, mucous layering, hard-backed friends, and I will keep a running tally, so far Snooty Snails - 3, Slum-of-the-earth Slugs - 0. I guess no one told the snails that London was in a drought right now, with the Environment Agency last week extending the drought zone up to Derbyshire (wherever that is?)?? I think Big Bumba begs to differ with that decision.

English word of the day: Put paid to = an expression which means to put an end to something. For example you could say that sun put paid to the snail invasion, meaning they stopped venturing out once it stopped raining.

The Girl with the Swedish Massage Groupon: Story One of the Millennium Trilogy

April 21

I am going to go ahead and file this in the “Things that will never fly in the US” folder. It all started with an email…

Groupon, one of my favorite pastimes, was offering to “Get kneady with a 60 minute full body hot stone or classic massage at B&K Lifestyle Spa. Facing out on to the sumptuous streets of Westminster, and featuring shelves stacked with DECLÉOR products inside, the luxurious B&K Lifestyle Spa puts pampering on the map. Between the rosy reaches of the Regent's and Hyde Parks, the salon's esteemed beauty therapists are multi-lingual, with staff speaking several Euopean languages, and they work alongside adventurous hair stylists, creative nail artists, and merciful waxers.”

Perhaps because of my love for the fabulous pun, I clicked buy, no research required. When I called to book, the only Saturday appointment they had was two months out so I figured it had to be good! Right? Wrong. Oh so very wrong.

Fast-forward to today. After consulting my trusty google maps I decided it was quicker for me to run there than to take public transport. Calling to ensure they had shower facilities available I spoke with the first of my Swedish accented women. Multi-lingual European staff, CHECK! Assuring me they did have showers, I strapped on my backpack and was on my merry way.

I got there and I was faced with two doors. Both labeled #104. Door number one had the B&K Spa sign, door number two was open, and seemed to enter into a long hallway. What was behind door number one? Not much! Expecting it to open up to a large spa-like atmosphere with zen music and aromatherapy candles burning, I found myself in a 5x20 sad excuse for a hair salon. Skirting around the lone hair styling chair I cleared my throat to get the hair washers attention. She asked if I had an appointment, I said yes, she had have a seat. After a quick 360, I saw my options were: vacant chair behind the desk, hair salon chair which was clearly to be used when the hair washer was done, manicurist chair, or back outside on the stoop of the sumptuous streets of Westminster. Mimicking a nail technician, I took my place in her swivel stool.

Five minutes later, when it became clear the hair washer was running somewhat of a one-man show I asked where I could find the showers. With a perplexed look she remarked in her Swedish accent, “Usually people shower after their massages…”

I tried to explain to her that I had just run there, was sweaty, would rather not subject the masseuse to my sweatiness, etc. and she said hold on 1 minute. Reappearing, she said fine, I could use the shower and took me out into the hall (what was behind Door #2) and directed me down the flight of stairs, and said to go to the end of the hall and look for the woman with the red hair. Finding her in what was a kitchen with a bathroom off it, it became clear they were running this “Spa” out of the comfort of their own home. If you don’t believe me, please see for yourself:

Shower "Facility"

Clothes drying. No big deal.

Washing Machine - ON

Embracing the ridiculous situation, I was warned that “someone else was using the shower gel,” but still for some reason, I took the “fresh towel” the British Warrior Queen Boudicca handed me, straight from the dryer (could have gotten it myself!), and hopped right in. It didn’t take long to figure out why they hadn’t wanted me to shower at the moment. Since the washing machine was also in the bathroom, I saw so clearly it was on, therefore…no hot water. Gave myself a nice freezing cold rinse and got the hell out of that basement communal shower “facility.”

Resuming my position as manicurist upstairs I waited to be called. Luckily it was all uphill from there and I was taken to a proper massage room with a legit massage bed and masseuse.

Through this whole ordeal though, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the time Cyndi and I were in Manhattan to see a show and found ourselves face to face with a solicitor who managed to sell us a coupon for a list of beauty services including a haircut and blowout, color, waxing, massage, makeup application, and manicure/pedicure. We of course bought it for something like $100, went over to the salon, and found out we could only use 1 service per visit. The $20 return LIRR tickets made this “deal” impossible to be profitable for us. Accepting defeat we got our haircut and blown out and made our way over to see, ironically enough, Legally Blonde.

Well played B&K Lifestyle Spa, well played, you got me! Not that it was a great feat. Great little homegrown, home-run scam of a spa. Just look at the website! They would have fooled you too. Next time I will read the reviews before I go hastily clicking the buy button.

English word of the day: Nutter = crazy person. As in, I must be a nutter to purchase a deal I didn’t seriously research. Lesson learned! No harm, no foul.

Enter a World of Pure Imagination

To follow-up on the world’s largest Easter Egg Hunt, for a pre-Easter, secular celebration, London puts on a fabulous Chocolate Festival! Located on the Southbank I strategically placed my run to partake in all the chocolate goodies – with a very special recommendation for the Chili Hot Chocolate. While the weather here has done a complete 180 from Friday to Saturday, that hot cocoa with a kick sounded right up my alley.

The outdoor festival featured all my favorite British chocolatiers and chocolate companies, with dozens of stalls selling chocolate-related products – everything from chocolate covered coffee beans, nuts, berries, and fruits, to chocolate infused wine, to chocolate beer, to millions of egg shaped chocolate filled things (note: British are OBSESSED with chocolate eggs. Every day someone new comes into the office with a chocolate egg. And these aren’t tiny Cadbury eggs, these are huge, head-sized hollow eggs typically filled with something else equally delicious. Very strange.) and much much more! Making my way through the stalls I failed to stumble across the chili hot chocolate that was praised by my friends. But instead, tucked away in the back was my holy grail…

Chocolate ARANCINI!

Okay I will admit I was taken aback a bit when I saw the name residing next to the black turd that was allegedly “an arancini,” but my curiosity got the best of me. I had to have it. Anyone who has ever tried a SueCro rice ball will call this blasphemy, and I went into it thinking they would be proved right. Accustomed to craving the perfectly fried outside and equally gooey inside of risotto, cheeses, hams, and peas, this came as quite a palette shocker. Equally fried on the outside and gooey on the inside, but this time the gooeyness was the melted chocolate hazelnut with hint of orange peel and almond. I know what you’re thinking….how can my love for cheese ever be overcome, let alone by some mushy nutella like spread?! I assure you this lactose tolerant girl will never let that happen. Although I will say, my sweet tooth has grown significantly out here surrounded by all the buttery, chocolatey goodness on every corner. Despite its less than appetizing appearance, my chocorancini (trying something out here – go with it) was amazing. Might even try to make them myself and present them as the main course dessert to a Mrs. Susan Cronin next Sunday dinner I am in town for. (I understand it will still pale in comparison to her perfected Italian craft, but a girl can try!)

What else I ended up with…

Admittedly not as exciting as a chocolate rice ball but dark/white chocolate with PEPPER and chocolate bark with sea salt and nuts. All around win on the day for this guy.

Fairly successful day (minus the chili hot chocolate, but I don't want to talk about it). May even try to present my family with some of the spoils for Easter. That is if I can keep my paws out of the goods. Re: not likely.

English word of the day: VIT-amin, as in you should make sure to tak your VIT-amins so you don’t get sick. Pronounced like BIT-amin or PIT-amin. Same meaning, but this came up on the back of a separate conversation with one of my coworkers asking where in the states Ar-KANSAS was. Pronounced like KANSAS. Silly Brits, they say things all sorts of funny.

LifeInAFlat goes Food Blogging

I love when guests visit. Not only is it a nice reminder of home but it also gives me a great excuse to eat like a complete idiot, indulging in all the sweets, pies, wines, breads, and cheeses I want without feeling guilty! Having just somewhat recovered from my parents visit, practicing full my-body-is-a-temple behavior (except not really, unless beer and wine are included in anyone’s idea of a diet?), I was starting to get back on track when, BAM! Jon came over for a few days. Longing for our Bostonian lifestyle of long dinners, full bottles of wine, brunches, bar snacks and more we set out to recreate it all, London style. Here is our food and drinks tour of London…

Infamous Bap

1.     The Kitchen & Pantry, Notting Hill: Stop one. Site of the breakfast sandwich of a lifetime. THE BAP. Piled high with delicious Cumberland sausages, egg, and cheese (dipping ketchup optional) these are your perfect hangover cure and hearty, start-your-day-off-right, meal of champions. Or a fat kid’s dream! 

2.     The Paramount, Tottenham Court Road: The posh bar at the top of the Centre Point building, one of the higher ones in London – which isn’t saying much seeing as we were on the 32nd floor with a very clear view of the entire city. After I picked Jon up off the floor post minor anxiety attack, forgot about his acrophobia, we ordered a bottle of wine and took in the 360° view of the city – not much of skyline though I must say. 

The Paramount View

       3.     Green Monster Pub: Green Monster? Come on! As an ode to Fenway Park we followed our bottle of wine with beers, beers, and more beers while watching football with the locals. 

Bar Rumba Fare

        4.     Comedy Night at Bar Rumba, Leicester Square: FREE popcorn and some great stand-up acts. I will say we didn’t get all the British jokes, BUT seems like the Tube is a popular topic for mockery, and one that we could fully indulge in.

5.     O’Neills Pub, Soho: Nice traditional Irish pub to start off the St. Patrick’s Day revelry. Just like the good old Harp, the live band, was fantastic (and “asked for us,” right Cailin?). And for me the cover bands here are perfect because they play all American songs from about 10 years ago – which to me is still pop! You know I’m always a few years behind in the music department. 

Maggie Jones

  6.Maggie Jones, Kensington: We love this traditional English place so much we even made up a song about it. Album drops this fall. Magnum house wine, the best chicken and artichoke pies, stuffed artichokes, and tarts. Need I say more? We craved this so much by our last night that we went back again. Our waiter, who looks eerily like Balki from Perfect Strangers, now knows our order by heart.

7.     Yum Cha, Camden: I took Jon on his first Dim Sum experience. Sadly I am not the most experienced in the ordering department for dim sum, so I will admit some of my choices were less than delicious. Great place though, and I think he is now hooked on the ritual. Next time we should scan the room more and try and order like the other patrons who clearly had it down to a science.

Market Thai

       8.     Market Thai, Notting Hill: One of my favorite hole-in-the-wall spots in my neck of the woods. Rivals, but does not beat Spice’s Chicken Pad Thai in good old Cambridge. Loved the quaint atmosphere and the waitresses are the cutest little Thai women that I could fit in my pocket!

       9.     Benito’s Hat. Oxford Circus: Rounding out the food tour around the world we needed to get our Mexican fix. Perfect place for it. Some of the biggest burritos ever, and I ate it all!!! And then the rest of Jon’s.

Gained a whole other person in pounds I think (or a few stones as they say in the UK, hint 1 stone = 14 pounds). But it was a great food tour of London! Only thing we missed – curry on Brick Lane. Could have used that too, would have helped clean out our systems a little bit! Next time. There’s always next time.

English word of the day: Hay Fever = allergies. Again nothing I shouldn’t know already, but it’s all in the way they use these words! Like they’re commonplace! Which I guess they are for non-foreigners, but still. This whole understanding words through context is seriously bringing me back to grade school when every word was new and needed to be analyzed in terms of the words around it in order to understand the meaning trying to be conveyed. In this case it was the dripping eyes, running nose, and constant itching of my colleague that gave me the clues to read in between the sneezes, er, lines. Toss the chick some Claritin, and let’s all move on and stop talking abut our hay fever symptoms.

Will Run for Food

Ran 7 miles for what was advertised as a New York bagel.

What I got was more like a plastic sleeved, Lender’s, chewy, plain bagel. NOT the Long Island Jewish bagel I know and love so much. 

After hearing the hype of the famed bagels of Beigel Bake on Brick Lane, I set out to cure my hangover. Classic run it off, sweat it out, and then reward myself with treats from my home situation. Along the run I fantasized about which bagel combo I would choose. Like any good fat kid, I pondered; would it be an everything with chive cream cheese? Bacon and egg bagel with veggie? French toast bagel with butter? The options were limitless…in my head. As I neared the destination, surreptitiously pulling my sweaty dollars from my sports bra (cash only establishment!), I expected to walk into the scent of freshly boiling-and-baking bagels and bins upon bins of all the flavors in the world.

Instead I found this:

Also, side note - what is a chicken beigel?!

My options were entirely limited:

Beigel

            W cream cheese

            W salt beef

            W salmon

            W butter

            W salami

            W egg

None of these sounded appealing to my less than settled stomach at this point.

What is hot salt beef anyway?? Is it like a corned beef type thing? Am I supposed to know what this is as a true New Yorker? Hmm, these options just were not the top of the list at Stuff-a-Bagel on my Sunday mornings on Long Island.

Going with the safe choice, I picked the one with cream cheese. Horrified, I watched as the checker simply reached behind her and pulled out a pre-made, plain bagel with cream cheese already in a brown paper bag. Feeling cheated since that order was far too easy to warrant my run, I felt I should order something else. Pointing at some almond croissant looking thing, I had her throw that in a bag too. It wasn’t much better than the bagel.

New business plan – importing long island bagels and bagel makers. REAL ones. AND spelling the word bagel correctly.

Maybe it’s my own fault and the sign should have given it away…open 24 hours. I would have been much better off stopping in the midst of my night out, not the morning after my night out. 

English word of the day: hip flask = pretty self explanatory, but still I was shocked by the need to clarify the hip part. This term came about with one of the senior managers in my office talking about this charity Dog Sledding event he is doing in Greenland. He mentioned it because apparently they have a huge alcoholism problem there and would steal the “hip flasks” right off you! Yes, this was the piece I took away from the conversation, not the fact that this guy is going to Greenland to mush dogs. It’s the way my mind works. Don’t question it.

London through the eyes of a Newbie

In the continuation of the Bailey-Kills-Her-Parents-in-Walking-Tour-of-London saga, I want to take you through some of the highlights. Bare in mind, this is my uncensored retelling, and honestly, you just can’t make this stuff up.

Brace yourselves for this shocker, BUT this was actually my dad’s first time in Europe, and had he not recently embarked on his latest mission to find the bluest, warmest, cleanest water in the world where he plans to build his retirement home, I’m pretty sure those passport pages would have been completely naked. I mention this because marveling at the architecture’s antiquity, experiencing the English traditions, and taking in the history all around us, were made all the more enjoyable because we were able to do it through his very own new-to-Europe eyes.

 The colors of Big Ben were brighter…

(Dad: They must have JUST cleaned and polished that)

 

The facades more ornate….

(Dad: Unbelievable the detail they put in there!)

And the history richer than our little brains could handle…

(Dad: I really wish I had paid more attention in History class)

Given that everything he knew about Europe came from the Travel Channel, (which I was going to call and cancel on their TV if I heard one more time that “This looks just like Germany!” or “This reminds me of Rome”….YOU’VE NEVER BEEN THERE!!), and the fact that I might not ever get him to sit on a plane again for seven hours, I tried to pack in everything! EVERY-THING. See itinerary below.

 

A few highlights of the trip:

1. Tower of London – great tour, if anyone comes to London this a must-do. We loved hearing about the Kings and Queens that passed through the Tower gates, most never to walk back out in one cohesive piece. We loved envisioning how the Tower grew and was added to and changed over time. We loved hearing the legends of the Tower lore. All of it was amazing. To the point that my dad consistently kept this venue in his top three favorite things in London – although it was not without internal strife as the days wore on and we kept seeing more incredibly old things that rivaled the Tower, all of which challenged his ability to pick just one favorite event.

2. Markets, Markets Everywhere, and ALWAYS a bite to eat – now I know my father well enough to know that this was going to be a huge hit in his book. I planned to take him to all my favorite markets on all the best days. This led us to Portobello Road for some German sausages (“Just like the one’s in Germany…”), Greenwich Market for shrimp tempura and dim sum (okay this one doesn’t really scream Greenwich, but it was outdoor meats on sticks, so he was happy), Camden for freshly fried, greasy, sugary donuts, Covent Garden for looking at polish samplings and breads and sweets (we were full at this point), and Borough Market for cheeses (we decided there was always room for cheese).  I love the availability of the outdoor markets and the freshness of everything there – which made my dad acknowledge the fact that with these markets he would never cook. EVER! Luckily my mom kept control of the purse strings during these outings.

3. One Man, Two Guvnors – a British comedy. I bought the parents tickets to see this show based on rave reviews in many of the London newspapers. Not really taking the time to think about the concept of a “Governor” in English terms, foreign to us Americans, we set out to see our play and excitedly sat front row for one of James Corden’s last shows in this theatre. The slapstick, traditional farce of a show was so traditionally British that had us a little confused at the beginning, but once you got into it they had us in stitches. A lot of the jokes toed the line, and often times surpassed it in terms of what would be allowed in the states, and I will say a lot of the Cricket/Football references went over our heads, but we had a great night and loved every minute of it. It was something different. Will be interesting to see how they adapt it for the Americans as it comes to New York sometime soon!

4. Boat Cruise down the Thames – or what was actually a HIGH SPEED MOTORBOAT ADVENTURE. I was over the whole sightseeing, leisurely float down the Thames with all the history on each side, and then the slow u-turn for you to only come back and experience it all again going the other way. No. I took my parents on the RIB London Voyage Experience. Maximum occupancy on the boat was 12 and we were equipped with life preservers and ponchos in case we got wet. And we were told it was not for those with back problems or heart conditions (we snuck my dad on anyway) and cautioned to hold on “rather tightly” as soon as we emerged from the no wake zone. From there it was a race past Canary Wharf to Greenwich and back, only we weren’t technically racing anyone, but if we were, we certainly would have won. London’s speed boat experience was a fun one. Glad my mom is still talking to me after I dragged her on this one. 

5. Spending time with the family! Although it was cramped as we all clown-carred our way into my flat every night, I wouldn’t have had it any other way. Given our schedule, you can see we were never really home long enough to mind it, but I’m glad we did get to decompress and discuss the happenings of each day as a family every night.

It was a fun adventure all around, albeit exhausting. Maybe I do have a future in a second career as a trip planner/tour guide. What do you think parents? Most exhausting “vacation” you’ve had in a while? Thought so.

English word of the day: Cheery-bye-bye = no translation. In fact this isn’t even a phrase at all! This, my friends, is what my dad thought they would all be saying over here in London. And since they weren’t he vowed that they would be before I knew it…luckily we kept his usage of it to a minimum while here. 

Oh yea, and I think we found next year's Christmas card...