A Scottish Christmas Story

On Christmas Eve Josh and I flew off to Scotland for our very first Christmas vacation. From what we’ve heard and assumed, the UK seemed like the perfect place to spend the holidays. Maybe it’s just because we watched Love Actually one too many times, but whatever the reason, at 7pm we were eating Christmas Eve dinner in Wetherspoon’s Restaurant in Stansted Airport and by 9:30pm we’d arrived in Edinburgh full of holiday spirit, ready to paint the town tartan.

After the train ride, plane ride, cab ride and hotel check-in, all we wanted was a drink and an appetizer. We just needed a little something to take the edge off and mark the festive occasion. It was a nice thought with one minor miscalculation: apparently you can’t get food at 10pm on Christmas Eve anywhere in Edinburgh—seriously, anywhere, not even in the hotel. And that was only the beginning. From Christmas Eve to Christmas Day and in some cases even Boxing Day, most bars, restaurants and attractions were closed for the holidays. Whoops!

The city of Edinburgh

Despite 20 degree weather and frozen streets we managed to find a quaint bar that was willing to pour a round of drinks before closing up. We ordered two spirits, split a bag of peanuts and Doritos, and watched as other bewildered tourists (probably from our flight) asked the bartender where they could get something to eat. The fact that nothing was open was certainly not in the brochure! But I should’ve guessed this was going to happen when back in November I called around to make dinner reservations for Christmas Day, and after an hour, found one restaurant in all of Edinburgh that was serving food. Did they expect everyone to starve—or be smart enough to visit after Christmas? Our own hotel wasn’t much help either. Not a vending machine, room service menu or mini bar in sight. I had visions of us curled up in a corner like starving mice waiting for Christmas to end so we could get few scraps food.

Luckily the hotel did serve Christmas breakfast and we feasted on haddock with poached eggs and scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and toasted brioche. Not your typical fare, but it was absolutely delicious! Later we found a pub that served lunch and we went to the sole open restaurant where I’d made reservations so many weeks prior for a sit-down dinner. To be honest, I wouldn’t say it was a “Christmas dinner”, or a “festive dinner”, or even a “good dinner”, but it was a dinner. So we didn’t starve and even though nothing in the city was open on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, we actually had a really nice afternoon watching Christmas movies in our hotel room and talking to our families back home.

Josh in his Christmas crown

The ever-popular Christmas Crackers

By Boxing Day more shops and stores were opened and the day after that the city was buzzing. It was amazing how the streets that were once dark and vacant, later glowed with New Years excitement. This was when the real Scottish fun kicked in and we were introduced to whiskey, William Wallace and Martin Wishart—among other things.

The Scotch Whiskey Experience

I’ll have you know that Josh and I are now whiskey connoisseurs and we have the certificates to prove it! The Scotch Whiskey “Platinum” Experience is a 90-minute tour, tasting and talk about all things whiskey—with a few added surprises. The whiskey tour began with a mechanical barrel ride (think amusement park for middle-aged business men) through a mach distillery for a lesson on how single-malt whiskey is made. Following the tour, our guide brought us to a room, where we experienced a sensory lecture (which included scratch and sniff cards) and whiskey tasting.

We learned about the various whiskey-producing regions in Scotland and had the privilege of tasting two very different varietals: one from Speyside and one from Islay. We discovered that each region yields its own distinct flavor. Islay whiskeys are peaty and smoky (Josh’s favorite). Highland whiskeys can be dry and heathery or sweet and fruity and sometimes even a bit smoky. Speyside whiskeys are described as mellow, sweet, malty and fruity. And Lowland whiskeys are malty, grassy, delicate and subtle (turns out I’m a Lowland kinda lady).

The Grand Collection

The tour concluded with a look at the world’s largest whiskey collection, donated by Brazilian whiskey enthusiast Claive Vidiz. This stunning collection features 3,384 bottles collected over 35 years. Whether you love whiskey or hate it, it’s a sight to behold (I think I got tipsy just looking at it). On the way out we were presented with goody bags and certificates of completion, which we plan to display next to our diplomas.  

The Tour

Robert the Bruce Statue at Stirling Castle

It’s not a trip to Scotland if you don’t see a loch (lake) or something related to Braveheart—we did both. Our all-day tour took us to Stirling Castle, the Wallace Monument, Loch Lomond, the Oak Restaurant at Loch Lomond and the Auchentoshan Distillery. Unfortunately, due to icy conditions, we didn’t get to go inside the castle or the monument, but we did get to see both up close and learn more about the history. We also discovered that because no one really knows what William Wallace looked like, the statue erected in his “likeness” was made to look like Mel Gibson. Apparently, after Mel went off the deep end, Scotts were so outraged by the statue they revolted by pelting it with shrapnel. In order to protect the monument, a cage was built around it. Therefore, the current statue of William Wallace is actually a statue of Mel Gibson in a cage. I didn't see it myself, but I'm sure it's exquisite. 

The Loch Lomond experience was my favorite of all. Not just because of the spectacular views and adorable Scottish restaurant, but also because of the whimsical winter death march we took up the side of a mountain. Our tour guide John-Paul, who reminded me of a Scottish Otto from the Simpsons (not nearly as rule-oriented as Richard from our last tour), decided we should go on a walk around the loch. The ground was more of an ice skating rink, but that didn’t stop him from pressing on with the scheduled activities. In a moment of genius, he decided to make things interesting when he asked if we wanted to climb the hill beside the loch to get a better view. Inwardly I was screaming, “No!” just as someone yelled, “Yes!” Surprisingly, that someone wasn’t Josh.

Trek up hill

Us at the top of the hill at Loch Lomond

So up the hill we went. The ground, mind you, was incredibly slippery and none of us were exactly prepared for the trek. It must’ve been a hoot for any passer-bys to see a Scottish man leading two Americans, a guy from Kyrgyzstan and five teenagers from Hong Kong up a snowy hill. But like all death-defying experiences, we bonded over our challenge, taking each other’s hand and encouraging one another along the way. It turned out to be an awesome experience and the views were truly inspiring.

The highlights

Edinburgh Castle

I could go on all day, but being that this is a blog not a book, I suppose I have to start wrapping up. In short, Scotland is pretty amazing. In addition to the above, we also got to visit the Auchentoshan Distillery (part of the all-day tour), shamefully devour a 6-course truffle tasting with wine pairing at Martin Wishart’s eponymous Michelin-starred restaurant, tour Edinburgh castle, view the Crown Jewels and put our newfound whiskey knowledge to some good use. All in all, I’d say we had a very Happy Holiday!

Barrels at the Distillery

Josh at Auchentoshan Distillery

Me at Auchentoshan Distillery

Best wishes for a successful, happy, healthy 2011!

Lost in Translation

I know I’ve already gone through great lengths to convey how frustrating cooking in England is for an American—the metric system being my first point of contention, followed by an extra small, Celsius oven—but now I’d like to move onto the language barriers I’ve encountered in professional kitchens. Surely one would most immediately ask, “Don’t the English speak English?” Well, the short answer is yes, of course they do. But if you have some time, allow me to explain the many exceptions.

Let’s talk about Appetizers, Entrées and Desserts. Seems clear enough, but the last time I said, “So, we’ll be serving all three courses? Apps, entrées and desserts?” I was treated to looks of sheer confusion. The chef furrowed her brow and with much exasperation asked me to repeat myself. Horrified, I thought maybe I said something that resembled the F word. Apps? Entrées? Desserts? Where could that have gone wrong? I wondered. My cheeks went ten shades of red as I slowly repeated myself. As it turns out, their preferred phrasing is Starter, Main Course (entrée being completely off the radar), and either Dessert or Pudding. Yes, Pudding is actually synonymous with dessert. And if you use the word Pudding, it doesn’t even have to include any variant of pudding, Jell-o or Bill Cosby. I also learned that the ever-popular Christmas Pudding is a cake!

On the subject of things not being called what they actually are, let’s move on to mincemeat. I was working a lunch, when the chef told me the “pudding” we were serving was a strudel stuffed with fruit and mincemeat. So I asked if that meant it was going to be sweet and savory, as I envisioned a phyllo parcel chock full of apples and sirloin. Apparently that was a dumb question, because mincemeat, when referring to dessert, is a combination of fruits, cinnamon, cloves, sugar and raisins. It can include meat, but not when it’s used in a strudel topped with powdered sugar. Talk about misleading!

A few more? I could go on for days! When asked to put left over turkey in the “bin”, I packed it up in Cling Film (aka plastic wrap) ready to place it in a bin—then perhaps in the refrigerator. Am I wrong to think putting something in a bin is meant for safe and fresh keeping? Well, the chef turned to me and said, “You don’t need to wrap it. Just put it in the bin,” while pointing at the garbage. To hide my embarrassment I wanted to laugh and explain that Americans always wrap up their trash before putting in the garbage. Instead, I thought better of it, threw the turkey away and sheepishly moved on to the next task.

And another time (at band camp—just kidding), I was instructed to hand over the “naught pan”. What the hell is a naught pan? Seriously, does anyone out there actually know what that means? I sure don’t… or didn’t. After a few minutes of hot and cold—No the one on the right. Down. Over a bit more. You’re hand is on it. Yes, that’s the one!—I discovered that the so-called naught pan is what we Americans call a “hotel pan”. Basically, these are stainless steel pans that come in many sizes with the purpose of cooking, storing and serving food. They are the be-all-end-all of cooking paraphernalia, and something you learn about on the first day of culinary school. So you can probably imagine that the head chef must’ve thought I got my degree from a Cracker Jack box, as he immediately insisted on giving me a lengthy lecture on the practical uses of the aforementioned pans. I tried to interrupt and explain that I knew what they were, but called them by a different name. But as the chef was Italian and I was American and we were in England, the message wasn’t getting through. So I listened to his lesson, nodded my head and politely said, “Oh, well, yes I see,” as if I never before heard of such a miraculous invention.

After many embarrassing encounters, I think it’s safe to say that while Americans and Brits generally speak the same language, sometimes (a lot of times), things get lost in translation. In addition to kitchen confusion, there are many other words and phrases each country say differently—often times I feel like I’m learning a new language (maybe I’ll put “bilingual” on my resume). In closing, I will leave you with a short list, so next time you come to England (or vice versa) you will know how to properly speak English.

US             UK

Elevator – Lift

Bathroom – Loo or Toilet

Toilet paper – Loo roll

Parking lot – Car park

Period (as in punctuation) – Full stop

Crowded – Rammed

Mail – Post

Hot (as in, “he’s hot”) – Fit

Eggplant – Aubergine

Zucchini – Courgette

(Bread) Roll – Bap

Pants – Trousers

Underwear – Pants

Jerk – Wanker

If you have any more to add to the list, feel free to leave a comment!

Field Trip

I’ve never been much of a history buff, but regardless of your interests you can’t help but be enamored by Europe’s ancient sites and stories. As Londoners, we felt it was our civic duty to explore England and a few of its most prized landmarks: Windsor Castle, Stonehenge and the Roman Baths.

We signed up for an 11-hour bus excursion back when it was a brisk 40-50 degrees and the idea of spending a day outdoors seemed like a good time. But in the week leading up to the trip, the temperature plummeted and snow began to fall. It was the type of weekend you longed to spend indoors with mugs of hot chocolate and funny movies. Instead, Josh and I pulled out all our winter gear in preparation for the adventure de jour. Part of me was incredibly excited about the trip and the other part hoped it would be cancelled and we could reschedule for a more appropriate time… like June.

Despite transit delays and slowdowns, the tour was still up and running, and Josh and I took our seats on the bus at 8:45am on Saturday morning. Within minutes our talkative tour guide Richard, a proper Englishman with a plaid cap and khaki blazer, made sure the bus left promptly at 9am. He made a point of telling us that tardiness was not tolerated and that any stragglers would be left behind. He then went on to give us all the extended fun we could have if we did happen to miss the bus at Windsor Castle or Bath. If we were stuck in Stonehenge we were basically SOL. After this was well explained, Richard spent an additional twenty to thirty minutes going through the rules and regulations of eating on the bus. Hot foods and hot beverages were strictly forbidden, while sandwiches were encouraged as they are A) easy to eat B) don’t make a mess C) have a neutral odor D) are really tasty E) are simply the perfect food. I do not exaggerate the effort that Richard went through to detail the unparalleled divinity of the sandwich.

The introduction and rule review took up a good portion of the ride and before we knew it we arrived at Windsor Castle, the oldest and largest occupied castle and official residence of the Queen. As we neared the entrance, it became clear that “residence” is a rather modest term for the 13-acre estate. I wholeheartedly believe they should consider turning part of it into luxe condominiums. I would think there’s plenty of unused space and big money to be had in a self-contained castle community.

Anyway, the castle and its grounds were at the same time massive, imposing and stunning. Inside the castle one could tour many attractions from the Portrait Gallery, full of drawings by Leonardo Da Vinci and photos of the royal family, to Queen Mary’s Dolls’ House, a miniature world of dolls and functioning fixtures that looked like the perfect setting for a horror film. We also toured St. George’s Chapel where the infamous Henry the VIII, among other sovereigns, is buried. While grim and sad, it was surreal to stand in the same spot that many of the characters I learned about in school had once stood and are now laid to rest.

Following another forty-five minutes aboard the SS Sandwich, we arrived at Stonehenge. It had just reopened as we pulled in, after being closed due to icy conditions. Some areas were still blocked off, but it’s impossible to miss this towering site.

What makes Stonehenge special (it’s not just a bunch of rocks, ya know) is that it was built nearly 5,000 years ago (sometime between 3,000 BC and 1,600 BC) and its purpose still remains a mystery. It’s alignment with the midsummer sunrise and midwinter sunset has lead to well-accepted theories that the structure once served as a calendar or perhaps Pagan place of worship and celebration.

Lastly we entered the city of Bath, which reminded me of Prague (yes, folks, I’ve been to Praaague – I told you that would come in handy one day). Our bus left us off in the heart of the Christmas Market, containing stalls of food, treats and crafts. There were kielbasa sandwiches, homemade soups, mulled cider, candied nuts and gourmet chocolates. It was a festive spot to relax and enjoy a bite to eat after a long day in the cold. But before we got to kick our feet up and sample the food, we took a tour of the Roman Baths—an ancient bathing complex built in 60-70 AD.

The Baths, also known by its Roman name, Aquae Sulis, is comprised of three naturally hot springs. These springs are full of minerals and maintain a consistent 46 degree Celsius temperature (115 degrees F). As the story goes, the Romans constructed a barrier around the hot springs and created a public bathhouse. Remarkably, this area is well preserved and many of the original stones, structures and steps are intact today. It’s a sight to see and revere for its longevity and majesty. 

By 5pm it was time to head home. Richard managed to keep to himself and the excursion wrapped up with a lulling two-and-a-half hour ride back to London. The rest, as they say, is history.