Off to Waitrose to browse exotic and strange and lovely things.
I wanted the edible flowers for my salad days, but aside from eating them on the bus I acknowledged they were't really appropriate.

Got the ingredients for my fish stew - yay!
Also talked Mum into buying some blinis so next time the girls come round she can have them as canapes. I think they sell them in Sainsbury's, but you can never guarantee items will be in stock there. Anyway they were on special offer and freeze well. She also got some uncooked prawns for the Gambas Pil Pil recipe her SIL gave her.

And then she had to dash off to the toilet, leaving me with her card!
Oops.
Well, I was good. I did buy some ribs, but that's for the Sunday dinner I'm cooking for Dad & Stevo while she's away house-sitting, so it's not like I bought hard liquor and drank it in the bathroom or something. Ribs is in freezer awaiting September.

I went through the self-checkout and the lady monitoring it sidled up to me and told me my hair had brightened up her day. Which pleased me no end. Except I was a bit paranoid that she was checking out the name on the card and the fact I have no wedding ring on. Ridiculous - my own card has Mrs on it and I've never been asked about my lack of ring!

An old lady on Thame market complimented my hair too. VERY well to do, tweed skirt & pearls. She didn't look me in the eye and disappeared into the crowd immediately, as if she'd been passing underground information. It was great.

Now, see, that bacon looks tasty to me :P Just the right amount of golden brown.

Great pics and write up chika. Thame looks great. I love those highly individual little market towns. And yes, I can smell the money from here lol.

When I was in Waitrose just before Easter, I thought it was cool that they had goose eggs for sale.
Attachment 40149

I used to like goose eggs. But then I went off them. Just a bit too...eggy.


[eta]my local Sainsbury's sells a lot of odd stuff. Local produce and 'world foods'. i noticed that Cherry often seems to struggle to find less common items in her local sainsburys and I wonder if it's because there are fewer places like waitrose around here.

It's more because we have a very small Sainsbury's, in an area with highly restricted delivery times. I worked there, as did my brother. deliveries seemed to turn up randomly, with fifteen kinds of liversausage and no sugar. It's just unreliable.

They sell world foods and more than your local corner shop. Just no edible flowers or lobster tails.

Some Waitroses sell ostrich eggs!

We definitely don't get ostrich eggs :p

Quail eggs though, sure.

I would have liked to try one, but they were pretty expensive. Sure, they are bigger, but you could buy two dozen chicken eggs for the price of one goose egg.

The last time I ate goose eggs, they weren't that expensive. They were about the same price as a half dozen free range chicken eggs. Mind you, they were smaller than those goose eggs.

You can get goose eggs and duck eggs around here, but they're mostly only purchased by people who are allergic to chicken eggs (most people with a typical chicken egg allergy can eat other fowl eggs just fine.) They are expensive here too.

Yeah, duck eggs are a bit too eggy for my taste too.

Went to Oxford with Mum on Friday.
Her suggestion - I think she likes to get out of the house as much as she likes me to be out of the house.
Dad was invited but he had too much to do.

Got the 280, same as we did to Thame. It's a lovely bus ride.
Got pole position again - front seats at the top.
Bus left late because it changed drivers. I've always noticed this - the drivers don't get on until the ETD and then spend time faffing about as well as the time it takes for the passengers to get on. We left at 11.15 instead of 11.00 and then the man drove like an old granny. Meh. Like to see how supermarkets or schools coped if the staff didn't start prep until they were paid to.

As we approached Oxford, Mum wanted to get off before Cornmarket. No point sez I, we're off up the Woodstock Road. We'll get off at the bus station. She's the one with the gammy knee after all.
She didn't like this. Tuts and mutters and then outright comments like "Well! I hope you know where we are because to me we're heading out of Oxford now!"

Must admit, a bit confussed about the route we were taking, but I did know where we were, perfectly well. The route obviously went via the railway station now. I mean, I know Oxford, I'm not exactly an innocent abroad there. Then we stopped, and the miserable old giffer came huffing and puffing up the stairs and looked at us and the other two passengers with disgust. "RAILWAY STATION!"

I felt like saying, "Yes dear, I can read." But instead said, "Is this the last stop?"
"Yes. Railway Station."
"You don't go to the bus station then?"
"No. Never has."

No thank you or goodbye from me then.
They certainly used to go to the bus station in the days I went to Oxford every weekend. Mum pointed out this was a long time ago - well, yes. Still made the miserable old git ignorant or a liar though.

I swallowed my pride, apologised to Mum. Told her we were still closer to our destination than if we'd got off earlier and tried to brush off her sulks. It worked, I think. By the time we crossed the road she recognised where we were - I think coming in by road, via a one-way system, she probably did feel like she was miles away. Once she spotted Yo! Sushi and the theatre she realised we were to the West of the centre and going in the right direction.

Things got better from here.

Mum wanted to go to the Oratory.
Last time she went was in the Winter and some sort of relic was being displayed.
The whole place was lit with lights and candles, all the gilt was shining and there were flowers everywhere.

FFWD to August 2012 and an ordinary day. No special flowers, a few candles lit for prayer and no lights on as it was a fine day.
She knelt to pray but was disappointed. I did feel for her. Still, I had a good chat with the Caretaker (Olympids and Paralympics) and he gave me carte blanche re photos. The only person praying was Mum, so being careful of her mood I still only took a few.

Outside.
From the entrance.

I thought it beautiful anyway, but I suppose when something doesn't quite live up to your memory, it's disappoint.

Fresco. Which hasn't been updated by a mad old biddy.
Side Chapel.

Then off to Browns, which is more or less next door.

NOW.
I have been to Browns more than once. In more than one location and more than once in Oxford.
I came out happy, but it was not a completely happy experience. Little, little things. But when you pay what we did for bar snacks (and cocktails ;)) I think you should feel wonderful. Harvey Nicholls was great. Browns is not Harvey Nicholls and I felt... out of place. Uncomfortable. Unwelcome, to an extent. Hmmmmm.

When I've been before, I've been dining. Had a reserved table. Waited in the entrance for a server and been seated. This time we wanted the bar snacks well-advertised on the website and were unsure whether to wait or ask at the bar. We walked in hesitantly only to hear the people coming in after us say to the approaching server, "Yes, table for three." Rude gits.

The chap behind the bar noticed and sprang out and offered to seat us. Walked us into a section of the restaurant and started to hand us the menus. I said, "We were hoping to see the bar menu? The finger food?" Slight pause. I am obviously now a time waster. "Of course!" he recovers and takes us into the central area, telling me that there is no menu, the food available is on the blackboard. Leaves us to seat ourselves. I suppose for bar snacks you are supposed to walk straight in to do this, but how were we to know? I hate the staff superiority that comes from having to repeat the same thing over and over to customers. It means it's not clear in the first place.

Anyway, I accosted him a few minutes later to ask if we could order flatbread from the main menu as well as bar snacks. It even suggests it on the website. He acted slightly confused, as if I'd asked for kippers and jam. Yes, yes I could of course. He even deigned to get me one of the menus that had been whipped away from us earlier.

Oh, forgot to say that apparently the table sat next to where we were originally going to sit were all staring at me as if I had two heads. Mum was kind enough to tell me so after we sat down. She said to them, "Had a good look did you?" Now that doesn't sound like Mum, so I'm not sure. But it did make me feel very out of place, especially given the other little issues. I was too fat, too brash, dressed in too much colour and man-made fabric. Amongst those muted, linen, cotton and wool dressed people in their layered clothes despite the warmth of the day I wasn't a butterfly, I was an aphid.

So, we chose our cocktails and food.
And waited.
Not long, but our server hadn't indicated to us whether we ordered at the bar or were waited on, so for me it was a twitchy time. I hate not knowing the rules.

By this point I was feeling like that section in Sons and Lovers in the teashop, which they always used to use for English Comprehension, where the protagonist and his mother try to have a treat they can't really afford and are immediately spotted as such by the waitress.

I lied earlier, on reflection.
This is where things got better.

The server who in the end was very nice, and friendly, and seemed to run the bar as well as the bar area, came to take our order. No pen, paper, electronic pad. Just memory. Colour us impressed.

I had a Kajuma to drink.
Disaronno Amaretto, Chambord, blueberry, pomegranate, lime and a touch of Shiraz
Oh it was good. I could have gulped at it like a drowning woman - tangy and fruity and Autumnal.

Mum has a taste for Champagne cocktails.
She had a Browns Bellini
For those whose bubbly must be French, Mercier Brut NV and white peach
(did I tell you I've had a Bellini in the place they were created - Harry's Bar in Venice?)

Looks yummy!

Mum seemed to have relaxed completely.
She went into Browns in Cardiff for afternoon tea, so I don't think she felt snubbed at all. It's not all that. She was probably just a trifle irritated and got over it. So I did too.

We chose three items from the bar snacks menu (like tapas, but available in multiples of 3). Smoked salmon blinis, salt & pepper squid and honey & mustard chicken.

It arrived within 10 minutes, but our server advised us that the prosciutto, chorizo and pepper flatbread would be a little longer. We weren't fussed - we had enough to be getting on with!

Wow! It came on a hot tray, perfect for dipping into with fingers. The chicken was SO moist. And not like cheap chicken which has been pumped full of water. Just a taste explosion, quite extraordinary. The blinis were topped with such succulent salmon. Soft and velvety. The squid was good and not rubbery, well seasoned but it simply stood no chance of praise against the other two. Not a crumb left of course.

The flatbread.
Ten minutes after our bar snacks had arrived.
We had finished them.
Now the order it was served in was not an issue. But it should have all arrived together, so it was them taking their eye off the ball. Naughty.

Anyway, it was good. So good that even though I thought I was full by that point I managed some more food. So good that I have bought the ingredients to make one for Mum and I tomorrow night. I'll report back.

Apols from the server, took another cocktail order from us.
Me with my Havana Breeze.

A Havana Breeze is Havana 3yr Rum blended with St Germain Elderflower liqueur, melon, sugar & lime. Served with lots and lots of ice. And I kept trying to drink it too quickly and kept getting stabbing ice-cream headaches. This I do not blame on anyone but myself!

Sticking with champagne, Mum had a Browns Champagne Cocktail
Our twist on the classic with Grand Marnier and an Angostura infused sugar cube

Now, final gripe. When the bill was presented it turns out that any coctails ordered from the Browns Signature Cocktail Range were £4.50. All the signage suggested this was a deal only available before 16.00 Sunday-Thursday (we went on Friday). Now both of my cocktails, by coincidence were from that menu. But Mum's weren't. Although she wanted a treat, I think had she realised she could save nearly £4 per drink she might just have changed her mind about champagne.

I didn't express ANY of these gripes to Mum.
I wanted her to have a good time - specially as she was paying! - so I am venting here a little bit.
I just feel sad when the details are neglected and you still get a £42 bill (service not included) at the end of it.

We then wandered around the streets and the covered market.
One mildly amusing thing was that I saw a shop with lots of little trinkets and sparkly things and dived in. Mum stayed at the window.
I saw some rings that I thought she would might like, and as I'd been struggling to find her a birthday present I had a eureka moment and beckoned her in.

Just passing was a tall bearded chap in a red jumper.
When Mum came in the shop I was cracking up because he'd seen the movement and looked in.
I'd like to tell you he had a complete sit-com "who, me?" moment, but he didn't. Just looked puzzled and carried on walking.
It still tickled my funny bone though.
And yes, Mum loved the rings and I bought her one. Not her usual style, but we were there at the counter and she would have said if she didn't like.

About half an hour later I'd steered us into Paperchase (lovely card shop chain that I miss from Leicester and London).
I queue up to pay and who is the person at the till in front of me?
Tall bearded chap in a red jumper.

Thank goodness he wasn't also getting the Oxford to Aylesbury bus.
I might have had the police waiting for me at the bus station.

It looks like you had a lovely time, though, gripes'n'all!

"I was not a butterfly, I was an aphid,"

Stuff like that goes down in my notebook (never fear, I credit the person who wrote/said it) but you are wonderful my dear, and if you are an aphid, I am glad because I am an aphid, too. :flower:

Back to school and walking past a farmhouse that sells free range duck eggs. Honesty system (and cheaper than Waitrose)
Oddly, your complaint against them makes me curious enough to think about buying half a dozen. I used to buy them from Leicester market because they were sold individually and I could never get through 6 eggs before they went off. I honestly don't have a fixed memory of their taste. I want some more egginess in my life.
Happiness.

Friars Square, Aylesbury circa 1986.
I may be off on the date there, but it's how I remember it from that period in my life.

The sunken area is the market. Underneath that and completely covered is the underground market. Not as exciting as it sounds, but it always felt a little risky to me as a child.

When Nanny and Grandad came down from London we would sometimes eat in the Wimpy. It was so exciting. Instead of taking the escalator down to the underground market as we did every other time, we opened the Wimpy branded door and were hit by a heady wave of burger smell, climbed up the stairs and emerged into the bright world of plastic chairs and fake tomatoes. All the staff were Asian, with varying degrees of English. I honestly assumed that Wimpy, although faux-American, was some sort of Indian business. I mean the only curry I'd seen in those days came from a box by Vesta. By the time I was old enough to go to a Wimpy elsewhere I understood the concept of minimum wage and had had real Indian take-away.

But back then, Coke Floats, Brown Derbys and Beefburgers (served on china plates with knives and forks) were foreign in many ways, and an outstanding treat however you looked at it.

Oh, if I haven't already mentioned it (surely I have?) a few external scenes in A Clockwork Orange were filmed in the concrete modernity of Friars Square. And yes, when I picture it, it always looks like this - wet and grey with the buildings and sky in shades of clotted porridge.

That conjures up images that would keep small children up at night. :eek:

Ummm... clotted blood candy ... maybe kids would love it.

I'm not sure clotted has exactly the same resonance here.
It's not always about blood. Cream teas come with clotted cream after all. Yummy.

But I do love the idea that my words have enough power to keep small children up at night.

Yeah, clotted is a little different here :p


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Clotted_cream

Now I wants me some clotted cream.

I know. Between this and the giant spliff I jst smoked, I arnt half got the raging munchies.

"I know. Between this and the giant spliff I jst smoked, I arnt half got the raging munchies".

Is that you hogging the spliff again, yer supposed to pass it around


:bong:

Our free commuter paper this morning had a little thing on an art exhibit in Aylesbury. I was all like "Hey! I know someone there."

Have you had a chance to see it yet, Sundae? It's at Waddesdon Manor.
Attachment 41713

I should go, shouldn't I?
Tickets are only £8.
I might see how generous Mum is feeling - there's a Christmas Carol evening on in said gardens on the 8th December.

You know I have never been to Waddesdon Manor.
Everyone I knew from that side of town (when I lived very near by in the village of Quainton) had already been. School trips and woth visiting Aunties and Grandmas and picnics ad nauseum. Ditto Claydon House. The 'rents have been to show other people around though.

Throw a stone round here and you hit a National Trust property. Or a setting for Morse or Midsomer Murders. We're so replete with the picturesque it makes us lazy.

I know what you mean. We've never taken the kids for a tour of the White House, and that's even free. Or the Bureau of Engraving and Printing, where they make the money. Or Archives, where the Declaration of Independence is.

The list goes on and on. No excuse really.

You need out-of-town visitors to precipitate such trips.

That's one of the reasons I love visitors coming to my island.

Sent by thought transference.

I'm there!

We'll go together one summer, Tril - I promise.
You would adore it.
We'll get Limes to drive us from one set of stone circles and standing stones to another, spot deer and seals, eat clotted cream and make mischief with Limey's loveable cats.

Oh and stay in a B&B not the bunkhouse as I'll be rich by then I tell, beyond my wildest dreams!!! Anyway, you haven't lived without a full cooked UK breakfast.

Sad that Arran is at its best when John Barrowman is not in Glasgow. You'll have to make a second trip to experience him. Pantomime I mean, yes, it's panto you have to experience. And The Alamo for Christmas.

again: I'm IN!


There are three places i want to see before I kick- your place, Sundae; limey's island (with side trip to Ireland/Scotland natch) and Iceland. I want to go to Iceland because they consult the fairy folk before making a road or building something. If the fairies say no dice, they have to build elsewhere. I admire that sort of civilization.

We have to think of a real way to achieve this rather than fantasy.
Maybe when we get to 92 we can appeal to a feel-good show by Oprah's daughter.

Damn, that's another fantasy.

I have been to Iceland and the area we were in was just flat and cold with a constant twilight. I was really bummed

I spent 26 hours in Iceland in the summer of 1983, and the area was flat and cool, and sunny until late, late, late. I liked it. Except we drove a little too far and ended up sleeping in our rental minivan near some bubbling mud pit, and had no dinner or breakfast.

We had flown Iceland Air from Luxemburg to NYC and the stopover in Iceland was either 2 hours or 26 hours. Your choice. But your checked bags had to stay checked. So we didn't have any of our camping gear and had to just sleep in the car.

Were you a tourist, Sarge?
Probably not ;)

I'm saving Northern Europe and Japan until I have major ducats.
One of my dreams is to see the lights, but my goodness Norway is expensive.

My bro and SIL are cruising to Alaska next year but I don't have to kill them because 1) they're not going far enough to see the Aurora Borealis and 2) they're not going South.

Even more than the Northern Lights I want to see the Aurora Australis because I am obsessed with the voyages of Scott and Shackleton. 'Specially Scott. On my Top Ten of books is The Worst Journey in the World by Apsley Cherry-Garrard.

Is that where the "nation of shopkeepers" phrase comes from?
Anyhoo, you're all welcome, whenever.

No, that phrase dates back to the mid eighteenth century I think.



[eta] first used by Adam Smith in the 1770s according to wiki :P

What? No Wildings?

I need to meet one (preferably female) and learn their sex secrets.

Apparently they have some major moves.

And no White-Walkers?

I don't think you were in Iceland, Sarge....maybe Greenland?

Dad's photos of the Christmas lights this year.
I think I could have taken better (the County Court looks amazing) but... well I didn't bother and he did.

Looking up the High Street.
From halway up hte Hight Street, where it curves.

I always wonder if the trees miss their strange fruit when the lights are taken down.
They might feel melancholy that their garish clothing was only borrowed for a short time.

Slightly further up to the top of the High Street where the Christmas tree is. No worries about the Christmas tree worrying, she's a seasoned old campaigner.

Off to Thame yesterday (Saturday) to have a general poke about and go to Waitrose.
My Mum's cousin was supposed to be coming today, so we wanted to get some tempting little nibbles for them.

Sadly, as it's turned out, Mum was very ill last night and had to cancel.
Shame for all of us - especially her being poorly. But also especially me as I was going to be taken out to lunch :neutral: Not to be sneezed at you know.

There is a new fleet of buses on the 280 route, which goes all the way to Oxford.
Leather seats, wi-fi, plug sockets for recharging etc.
Still no air-conditioning though...
But it was fun to get on a dedicated new bus.

And yes, we got the premier seats, at the front on top.
In fact we selfishly took up all four, but it wasn't a busy bus anyway.

Oh, there was something wrong with the ticketing system. Many people were advised that their ticket couldn't be issued so they could just take a seat.
Guess whose ticket went through just fine?
Oh yes. Mine. I can hardly write a letter of complaint about it though.

Thame only has a market on Tuesdays.
The rest of the time the market ground is a car-park. As this was a Saturday I thought the least I could do would be to show you some of the individual shops.

- The shops abutting the market in general.
- The sort of place in which I will shop when my ship comes in. Actually that counts for 90% of shops in Thame...

- Florists with hanging garden decorations.

- Swan Hotel, where I used to drink as a callow youth. We didn't go in, but it used to be a marvellous warren of a place full of secluded inglenooks and surprisingly large sofas. The Management didn't approve of using optics, so everything was measured freehand with jiggers; a very good reason to stay on the good side of the bar staff.

An AGA is a solid fuel stove. It's kept burning 24/7. I don't know if the name is known elsewhere, but only very well-to-do people have them here.

Thame has its own dedicated shop. Say something?

It also has a dedicated chocolaterie.
The sister shop is in Wendover, so we'd already checked it out.
Too sweet for me, too expensive and County for Mum to enjoy.

Just to clarify, Thame is pronounced without the H. It's Tame. As opposed to the Thames, which is the Temms.

And also, I wouldn't call a single shop in Thame twee.
They cater for an income bracket different than mine, but it's not a touristy or over-inflated prices place. Which is why it's good to go there and see how the other half live.

They have proper fish and chip shops!
Everywhere else I've lived, the fish and chip shops have been f&c and kebabs, or f&c and Chinese etc etc. These are old-style. You can even eat-in in one of them. And I bet they serve warm cola in thick glasses and white bread & butter as a side too.

Even the Indian is pretty.
I think this is where the Prince of India used to be.
I lived almost opposite and although it was more expensive than I was used to, you really were treated very well in there. By the time you had a complimentary dish and a free drink at the end you were on pretty much the same cost. We went in about every ten days and were therefore recognised and valued as polite customers.

This was my Lottery Dreaming house.
Bri and I were going to live here together.
It's the whole of the front and it goes back a long way. It has an amazing conservatory linking the old stone-flagged passageways with the modern kitchen extension. It was also on the market for £895k

Even the public toilets are posh.
Although we didn't try them out. Unusual for Mum, but she'd just been in Waitrose.

Okay. The cows.
No idea.
Mum thinks they were hidden and/ or chained up to stop people stealing them as a prank.
I think they needed to be restrained as they come alive at night and wreak havoc.
Either way, they were a bizarre find.

Cow in the open and hiding cow.

Thame is in full bloom.
Mum wanted a photo of hanging baskets. Not sure why.
But I indulged her.

Window-lusting.
Bread & cakies.

Meringues and sparklers.

I know that children often get useless presents to mark "special" occasions. Which usually don't occur until well after said present has disappeared. But this little tooth holder snagged my imagination.

I do not expect to acquire it in any form other than a photo, because it looks like I won't even have the excuse that the twins are being baptised.