(Not pictured here)

Pictured here:

• Anne Marie in front of Notre Dame
• Central London at its best
• Dad and I trying to recreate Ben's Starbucks zombie pose
• Dad on Waterloo Bridge
• Anne Marie discovers pie in Greenwich
• Midshipmen Kessler preparing for their Lieutenants' exams at Somerset House
• Blackfriars Bridge (note the railings under water in the foreground)

Not pictured here: Susie










I'm back, and I brought pictures. After two and a half months of extremes, I'm anticipating a welcome return to the pedestrian. In the last two and a half months I've embarked on a whirlwind of romance and ... er ... work. I know it doesn't sound a likely blog topic. Oh well, too bad.

The truth of the matter is that I have just completed a deal which kept me up all night three times in the last week, and had me in all day Saturday and all day (and night) on Sunday. Although this was at the extreme end of my experience since New Year's, work has dominated. I'm getting fat from sitting at my desk all day. And it's been socially disruptive.



And yet I've had spells of bliss. Dad and Anne Marie came to visit a week or so ago, and I did everything I could to spend some time with them, despite an unlucky host of obstacles: I had to fly to Columbus at the last minute for Grandma Donnelly's funeral, and so when I returned I was exhausted and my 4-day weekend with Dad and Anne was suddenly a jetlagged day and half; and then it was all I could do to leave work before midnight to see them. On Anne Marie's last night in London, my client told me to go see Anne (she loved your card, Anne, btw) and so I snuck out from 9pm - midnight, before returning to the office.


The trip to Columbus, though somber, was a wonderful chance to catch up with family.

And then there's been my budding romance. But I won't go into that here. And I'm not including a picture, because she'd kill me. But I have a very nice photo of us in Paris, if anyone would like to see it....



I took the last picture last night on my way home from work at 4 am. London (in fact, all of England) was wracked by storms yesterday. Filthy weather. The Thames was at flood - the highest I've ever seen it. If you click the last photo, you'll see how the staircase down to the river is completely submersed.

I was late for work because I was detained at gunpoint by the police

Although this is not my usual excuse for being late, it is probably one of the more interesting ones I’ve been able to use.

So, I was walking up Southwark Bridge Road, having stopped in at the butcher for a chat on the way in to work (it’s all very Sesame Street in the Borough, baby), and I heard the familiar sirens of a police motorcade escorting prisoners to the Old Bailey. As the motorcade drew up level with me (at the crossing of Union Street), it stopped, because there was construction in the middle of the road. Now, I’ve seen enough action films to know that this is the moment when any would-be assailant would choose to tackle a convoy, and so I was impressed when the armoured Land Rover nearest me pulled diagonally across the intersection and a police officer with an automatic shotgun emerged from the vehicle to keep a close eye on everyone as the motorcade was stalled there. Now, my route would have taken my straight past the armoured people carrier, so I decided to stay put and observe the scene. There were police on all sides of the convoy, diligently scanning the roads, houses, rooftops, for ... er, outraged Somalis? It was a little bit Black Hawk Down, except no one got shot. And there were no helicopters.

Novelties gastronomiques

The title of this blog is a deliberate mix of English and French, to reflect the nature of the subject -- last night's feast (see the menu, left).

I'm back from my travels, and I'm beginning to work my way through a backlog of sibling blogs; but while I'm doing this, I thought I'd tell you about my day yesterday, which was about as unique and as enjoyable as a day can get.

Laura, Julie's cousin (so, kind of my cousin-in-law), needed to be distracted, so we planned to meet up in the afternoon. I decided that the best form of distraction would be to try to cook something extraordinarily difficult involving fish - complicated because I wanted it to be a proper distraction, and fish because I hardly ever cook fish, and I need to learn how to do basic things, like make fresh 'fish fumet' (see - an example of a phrase which uses both English and French), which shows up in almost every single French recipe involving seafood. So I spent the hour before we met up poring over The Silver Spoon (thanks Ben and Jules! but too easy) and Larousse Gastronomique. The latter cookbook is full of recipes which look easy, but which aren't, because each recipe cross refers to a billion other recipes ('poach X using a fish fumet, white wine and the juice of half a lemon, and use the reserved liquid to prepare a simple Mornay sauce' ... 'for Mornay add X, Y and Z to a bechamel' ... 'for bechamel prepare a white roux' ... 'for fish fumet, just take 5 lbs of fish heads and bones' ... anyway, you get the picture).

So I selected a fish recipe called 'fillets of John Dory Palais-Royal' because I've never cooked John Dory, and it involved all of these sauces made from other sauces.

So Laura came over to Borough at 1 pm and we went shopping at the market near me. This market is enormous, and is easily the best all-round food market in London, and it's a 7 minute walk from my flat. You can get just about anything you could possibly want. As we wandered around the market, our plans morphed so that by four pm we were planning a very posh 4-course dinner with 3 different types of wine. Laura begged me not to buy the fish heads (she was worried about getting fish eyes in her Mornay sauce), but the fishmonger was only too happy to hand over a pile of fish carcasses to us for fresh stock. How could I refuse?

We made the fish stock and then went to the pub for good measure, where a sort of blues-y, dixie band was rehearsing for the evening.

We came back and started cooking properly at about 6:30, I think, and finished at about midnight.

Here is the meal in pictures:

Foie gras d'oie with confit de figues au Monbazillac

Fillets of John Dory Palais-Royal with petit pois with Marlborough Reserve Sauvignon Blanc, Brancott Winery, New Zealand








Red partridge with parsnips Vichy and brussel sprouts with Spy Mountain Pinot Noir, Marlborough, New Zealand












Tiramisu with Comte de Bosredon Chateau Belingard Monbazillac

What's the only thing worse than a lawyer?

Could it be a politician?

Walk home (Part 2)

So tonight I walked home over London Bridge after meeting a few friends for a drink. This building/home (pictured), which is right on the Thames on the NW corner of London Bridge itself, always looks fantastic at night (because of the massive ballroom - you can catch a glimpse of the chandeliers through the top right window). Snapped this photo with my phone. Although I suspect this is actually a guild hall, or even a proper business of some sort, I can't work out what it is using the internet.

Testate

Ok, I'm putting up this picture for no particular reason. I like my local shops - the grocer, butcher and baker (no - there isn't a candlestick maker, but the florist and funeral director seem to have a highly symbiotic relationship going on). I stopped in to buy some vegetables at the end of my run. Voila.

So, yesterday I made my will. I'm testate, for the first time (or I might be: hard to say, because I drafted the will myself and I don't know much about probate or trusts...). Although there's not a lot to leave behind, it's now accounted for, at least in theory. And Brad, put that bloody axe down - I know times are tough, but they're not that tough.

Finally, for anyone who doesn't have a chance to check out my (our) cousin Rebecca's blog (link on the right), the picture and description below are taken from her most recent post. It was so good that I just stole it.



"***This is absolutely amazing and must be shared! THE ARNOLD APPLE: This is a Styrian Power Apple. From "the homeland of Arnold Schwarzenegger", this apple offers incomparable strength and taste..."Lovingly tended by skilled and dedicated fruit growers in their small and medium-sized orchards it is a rich natural source of health, strenth and flavor"!! At the ridiculous price of €1 per apple, it was totally worth it!!"