The biggest nightmare for most children is being dragged to
the local General Practitioner and pinned against the door as they shrieking
their defiance at the seasonal vaccination. For me, it was bi-annual pilgrimage
to Queensland Book Depot (QBD) where my Mother would take great joy in
purchasing holiday text books to ensure her children would be fully prepared
when they returned to school. Thanks to this sadistic study regime I’ve spend
the majority of my life chained to my desk with only the occasional opportunity
to head back to China. But in the last six months I’ve seen more of the world
than I could have ever hoped for. I’ve been to Taiwan, hopped around East Coast
of America and thanks to Spensley I’ve just returned from Rome, Paris and
London.
Zuppa Di Verdure, Rome |
My favourite location on this journey was Rome, a chaotic
unplanned city that had been left to grow organically for thousands of years.
The houses lapped the roads and with no footpaths, pedestrians, parked and
moving vehicles were left to jostle for priority. There were no designated
shopping precincts so it took me three days to locate white-out and when I did,
the store was around the corner from our apartment. But the one thing I
couldn’t get over with Rome was just how far the Euro stretched. €5 brought you
a transfer by coach from the airport to the main station, €3.50 brought you a
cappuccino and a flaky custard filled pastry and for €24 you could eat like a
king! It brought an entree, two mains, dessert and wine! Pizza, pasta, risotto,
but even this smorgasbord of carbohydrates would not stop my tastebuds from
craving the flavours of home so one night Spensley and I cooked a simple steak
dinner. The steak was incredibly pale and tender, the spinach fresh but God
those Italian tomatoes were just packed with flavour. They punched you in the
face without the aid of balsamic and a dab of brown sugar. At another point on
the trip we would have killed for soup and after wandering the block managed to
find a cafe that served a simple Zuppa Di Verdure or if you opted for pasta, it
was touted as Minestrone Di Verdure. But before you screw up your face it was
nothing like the Minestrone you would find in Australia as the vegetables were
perfectly cooked and the delicate broth lightly flavoured with tomato. Superb!
Millefeuille, Paris |
After four days of glorious Rome we boarded the night train
to Paris. Spensley and I were travelling first class (think Orient Express,
James Bond) as the only other option offered by the Thello was sharing with
three other strange men or women. So you can imagine our shock when we opened
the door to our cabin to find one manky couch and just enough room in the aisle
to leave your suitcase upright. Everything was built vertically so when we next
inspected the bunk (which was only suitable for one) we were shocked to find
what could only be described as insane asylum straps. Spensley quickly decided
this was important as if the train suddenly stopped (which it did over the
course of the journey) your body might roll, but your neck would not and would
be clipped by the ladder conveniently positioned at neck level. After braving
the stuffy confides we emerged victorious in Paris. Our hotel had the good
fortune to be position around the corner from the most amazing bakery with a
constant stream of locals enjoying crusty baguettes generously appointed with
brie, yogurt thick with raspberries, champignon filled quiches and most decadent
pastries. We also had the most gorgeous millefeuille at Lenotre on route home
from the Louvre. While we had some concerns about the quality of food served
being on a tourist strip it was beautifully made and the waiter elegantly
divided it with such flourish that we felt almost criminal devouring it.
However we can’t say all things in Paris are equal so if see the chain Paul, I
would advocate staying well away.
Salmon, Rocket and Roast Beetroot Salad, London |
After a brief two day jaunt in Paris we took off on a
British Airways flight to London. It only dawned on me when an air hostess was
offering me a packet of crisps that we were indeed travelling to yet another
country. Because after I quickly responded that I would love a biscuit and the
brain too stock and realised that crisps were chips and GOD I FREAKING LOVE
CHIPS! We were delighted not only did the Grosvenor have restaurant standard
room service but there was a Chinese Restaurant in the foyer. I’m sure the
staff thought I was mad as I made such a fuss when I received my bowl of plain
white rice as while we were in Rome we barely saw anything on offer other than
Italian and while there was ample Japanese in Paris it wasn’t the plain jasmine
rice of home. We also ecstatic to see an egg with a runny yolk at Le Pain
Quotidien a bakery and communal table chain hailing from Belgium. The store had
an amazing range of fresh options and perhaps Le Pain Quotidien’s origins
helped it supply good coffee as the English serve awful coffee.
The only other
place we found a solid cup was the Workhouse Coffee Company in Reading which
was owned by an Australian. Apart from their coffees, the Workhouse Coffee
Company also serve amazing baked delights and we sampled freshly baked Pear
Tart, Lemon Meringue and the pictured Raspberry Cheesecake with actual
raspberries, not just puree as found back in Australia. It was an amazing
experience and I could tell you so much about the culture, the people, the
theatre but it just won’t fit in one article. For all the reading you might do
and all the television you might watch, it just doesn't come close to the
experience.
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