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The Almost Perfect Weekend
Oct. 7th, 2007 07:26 pm.. remarkably!
The Shouting Book Club came visiting - well, Adele, Charles and Paul. We had a wholly hedonistic weekend compose of good food, nice wine, amazing champagne, gluttinous gourmet food shopping, sightseeing, autumnal walks, drunken fumbling with Facebook and MUCH SHOUTING. It was really all rather wonderful.
Friday I picked them up off a delayed flight at the airport but we still made it to Saras to find the entire place packed out but my booked and much changed table still happily vacant. Paul (who likes Plain Food that he Knows About, Already) was dubious abot Thai but quickly converted by the joys of coconut and lemongrass. God the food there is good - seafood tempura, duck curry and langoustines with tamarind especially maybe. Yum yum (with extra tom yum:) The owner as usual wondered why an American (ie, me ) was hanging out with a bunch of Scots:) Also as usual we were last, reluctantly out, the restaurant.. came back to mine and tormented the cats while drinking very nice champagne courtesy of Charles and slagging off most of the universe that wsn't us. Sleep c 2pm.
Saturday was Winchester, which in warm sunny still autumnal leaf-turning weather had its most beautiful face on. We went for the traditional walk to the cathedral, but were wholly diverted by the fancy food stalls that were also in season, and ended up having an impromptu picnic on the grass opposite, consisting mostly of watercress products (watercress shortbread anyone? watercress and trout pate? watercress pesto? god, it was good!) plus Montezuma orange and geranium, and chili chocolate , and lots and LOTS of exotic olives and artichokes and roast onions.. we then found and ravaged a secondhand book sale, a shop which sold hammers and screwdrivers in William Morris patterns for girlies (honest), and an antique jewellery stall and scarf stall.
Eventually we dragged ourselves away for a bit of actual sightseeing round the College and the water meadows, wich were full of guess what, watercress, rippling in the fast running mill stream with baby brown trout twisting in and out of the viridian green fronds. If it had been any more pastoral we would have had to be in a Hardy novel.
Evening found me restored by Drink and in full rant mode about Southampton, the South east, chavs, bad drivers, parochiality and the fact that no one lives here but ancient pensioners and couples with small children, etcetc, in the back of a taxi heading to my fave local fish restaurant, The Olive Tree . Taxi driver mentioned politely as we paid him "That was an interesting take on Southampton. And by the way the local gay pub is over there."
Paul as usual looked utterly mortified while Adele and I happily returned to destroying Scarlett Johanssen and reality TV. The restaurant turned out to be run by a nice lady from Troon so we swapped Scottish anecdotes of civilised places with civilised opening hours. As usual, the last in the restaurant, back to mine for champagne, cheese, chocolate, LOLcats, etcetc. In bed 3.30am. I DID get Charles signed up for Facebook, a major triumph:)
Sunday,a little battered round the edges (no, not the fish from the night before!) I insist it is time for Healthy Walking. Mr SatNav (my new best friend) helpfully takes us to Lyndhurst and on to the Rhinefield Ornamental Walk and the Tall Trees Trail which Gerritt had recommended and which is, it transpires, truely glorious: redwoods, sequoias, golden-leaved birches, gum trees imported to the arboretum which look like long streaks of white and grey, startlingly unEnglish against the green-red-yellow pointillist landscape of fall. I want to paint everything I see in watercolours. As final compensation for this oasis of helthy behaviour, we descend in quick succession on a pub where I devour pheasant casserole and creamy mash, and a French chocolate shop which we virtually rape of chestnut and orange spread and rosewater macaroons.
I now plan to not eat for several days and sleep rather a lot :)
The Shouting Book Club came visiting - well, Adele, Charles and Paul. We had a wholly hedonistic weekend compose of good food, nice wine, amazing champagne, gluttinous gourmet food shopping, sightseeing, autumnal walks, drunken fumbling with Facebook and MUCH SHOUTING. It was really all rather wonderful.
Friday I picked them up off a delayed flight at the airport but we still made it to Saras to find the entire place packed out but my booked and much changed table still happily vacant. Paul (who likes Plain Food that he Knows About, Already) was dubious abot Thai but quickly converted by the joys of coconut and lemongrass. God the food there is good - seafood tempura, duck curry and langoustines with tamarind especially maybe. Yum yum (with extra tom yum:) The owner as usual wondered why an American (ie, me ) was hanging out with a bunch of Scots:) Also as usual we were last, reluctantly out, the restaurant.. came back to mine and tormented the cats while drinking very nice champagne courtesy of Charles and slagging off most of the universe that wsn't us. Sleep c 2pm.
Saturday was Winchester, which in warm sunny still autumnal leaf-turning weather had its most beautiful face on. We went for the traditional walk to the cathedral, but were wholly diverted by the fancy food stalls that were also in season, and ended up having an impromptu picnic on the grass opposite, consisting mostly of watercress products (watercress shortbread anyone? watercress and trout pate? watercress pesto? god, it was good!) plus Montezuma orange and geranium, and chili chocolate , and lots and LOTS of exotic olives and artichokes and roast onions.. we then found and ravaged a secondhand book sale, a shop which sold hammers and screwdrivers in William Morris patterns for girlies (honest), and an antique jewellery stall and scarf stall.
Eventually we dragged ourselves away for a bit of actual sightseeing round the College and the water meadows, wich were full of guess what, watercress, rippling in the fast running mill stream with baby brown trout twisting in and out of the viridian green fronds. If it had been any more pastoral we would have had to be in a Hardy novel.
Evening found me restored by Drink and in full rant mode about Southampton, the South east, chavs, bad drivers, parochiality and the fact that no one lives here but ancient pensioners and couples with small children, etcetc, in the back of a taxi heading to my fave local fish restaurant, The Olive Tree . Taxi driver mentioned politely as we paid him "That was an interesting take on Southampton. And by the way the local gay pub is over there."
Paul as usual looked utterly mortified while Adele and I happily returned to destroying Scarlett Johanssen and reality TV. The restaurant turned out to be run by a nice lady from Troon so we swapped Scottish anecdotes of civilised places with civilised opening hours. As usual, the last in the restaurant, back to mine for champagne, cheese, chocolate, LOLcats, etcetc. In bed 3.30am. I DID get Charles signed up for Facebook, a major triumph:)
Sunday,a little battered round the edges (no, not the fish from the night before!) I insist it is time for Healthy Walking. Mr SatNav (my new best friend) helpfully takes us to Lyndhurst and on to the Rhinefield Ornamental Walk and the Tall Trees Trail which Gerritt had recommended and which is, it transpires, truely glorious: redwoods, sequoias, golden-leaved birches, gum trees imported to the arboretum which look like long streaks of white and grey, startlingly unEnglish against the green-red-yellow pointillist landscape of fall. I want to paint everything I see in watercolours. As final compensation for this oasis of helthy behaviour, we descend in quick succession on a pub where I devour pheasant casserole and creamy mash, and a French chocolate shop which we virtually rape of chestnut and orange spread and rosewater macaroons.
I now plan to not eat for several days and sleep rather a lot :)
