Mary Lou Rennet

One time, when I lived back in Chicago, I was in the Whole Foods chee-eeeeze section. They have some impressive variety and the staff is pretty knowledgeable as well. I was on a kick where I thought the best pizza would be one made from scratch. Meaning, well, you would grind your own flour, make your own pepperoni, etc. Extreme, some would say.

I had dabbled with cheese making earlier on in my culinary experiences. You can buy some curious kits online that allow you to convert a gallon of milk to a tiny little ball of cheee-eeeze. The cheese is decent and it's fun to watch milk self-destruct when a tiny little drop of "rennet" is added to it.

So, while in Whole Foods, I inquired if they had any rennet. The lady behind the counter scoffed at me,'do you know what THAT is?' Yes, I do, and I want it.

FLASHBACK: Rennet, way back in like 72000 BC, was sorta discovered when young animals were slaughtered. A calf, for example, fat on mommy's milk would be cut open and its stomach would be full of curdled milk. Some fledgling cromagnon engineer then figured out if they tossed a calf's stomach into a stone cauldron of milk, the whole damn thing would curdle. Next thing you know, they were making grilled cheese sandwiches.

Fast-forward: Now it's present day England. I'm walking through TESCO and lo and behold I see a gigantic bottle of the magic liquid for like 99 pence. This fountain of possibility lies un-tapped in the pantry. It will wait until I have figured out where I can cure sticks of pepperoni. But then, when the moos align, and I have the means to make flour from grain, the greatest pizza Herefordshire has ever seen will be pulled from the oven of the Lilacs.

Til then.

Cheers!

Love It Or Hate It

In the altered words of Christopher Walken as THE Bruce Dickinson: "I've got a fever... and the only prescription is more Marmite."

It's true folks.

When we ambled over to England on our first 'exploratory' trip to find a place to live for eternity, we stayed at a fantastic bed and breakfast, the Somerville House in Hereford. Each morning, the convivial hosts, Bill and Rosie, prepare and serve a true English breakfast -- the likes of which I am yet to find elsewhere. They focus on local ingredients and freshness. Blood sausage, grilled tomatoes, mushrooms, poached eggs and... Marmite. There it was, sitting on the condiment plate, innocent enough in its tiny, little, brown jar. Well, the rest is bloggable history...

Now, I am a Marmite junkie. In the house, at this moment, I have Walker's (Frito Lay) Marmite flavoured crisps, Marmite breadsticks, Marmite cheese, Marmite rice cakes, and a jar of Marmite to dip all of these in because they never really do put enough Marmite in the Marmite products. It's too thick to dip a crisp directly into, so I thin it out with some Red Hot (are you listening Marmite? Spicy Marmite's time is now!) so the crisps come out just so. Slather some Marmite on a crumpet (I wish that was a joke, they really are good) with some rich Welsh butter and top it with a egg and some sharp cheese. Whew. I've blogged about that experience before but it's worth repeating. Making gravy? Add some Marmite. Having a burger? Ketchup ain't nothing next to Marmite. I just can't wait for the special edition Marmites that are released every 2000 years or so. Guiness Marmite? Champagne Marmite? Oh, the possibilities.

Cheers!

Don't Make Me Part Of The Problem

That Explains Why A Long John Is Good For A Week

The first thing I noticed about Bird's Custard was its striking similarity to the "custard" they stuff the donuts with back home. I love that stuff -- or is that I now loved that stuff? Now that I have the real stuff available in copious amounts, this fake custard just didn't seem right. I enjoyed it immensely. I ate lots of it. But it didn't seem right.

So I did some homework. A key difference between this and the wonderfully rich traditional custards is that this stuff is thickened with cornstarch while the real stuff is thickened with eggs. In fact, the reason for its existence is because the inventor's wife was allergic to eggs. I had always wondered why a custard-filled long john back home was still non-toxic after a few days of sitting in a cardboard box on the counter. Does the lack of eggs explain it? Perhaps.

I may keep a shelf-stable box of Bird's powder in the pantry for when I have an insatiable desire for custard. It may be crap, but it's still custard. Oh, a reference that only folks from college will understand -- you could fill a bathtub with this stuff for cheap.

Cheerios.


Donuts. Is there anything they can't do? -- Matt Groening (1954 - )

Balti-More

We took another day trip up to Birmingham this past weekend. First, we watched the London Rollergirls spank the Birmingham Blitz Dames with a score of 274-23. Ouch.

Afterwards, we made our first trip into the Balti Triangle, an area just south of the Birmingham city center that has dozens of restaraunts specializing in Balti-style food. Balti was invented in Birmingham around 1977 -- it's similar to other "Indian" food but each dish is finished and served in a small flat-bottomed pan similar to a wok. This BBC article right here does a good job of explaining the whole scene.

We tried the restuarant "Al Frash" at the recommendation of one of our many guidebooks. I tried their house specialty, Afrodesia, a finely minced mixture of chicken and prawn in a slightly spicy ginger and garlic sauce. It was good -- but not that different than what I consider typical Indian food. The area is worth another trip to try to figure out the huge draw.

Cheers!

Hereford Booze Festival

This past weekend in Hereford was the "Flavours of Herefordshire Food Festival", held in Hereford at the Hereford Racecourse. Over 100 vendors were on display showing off their locally produced products.

The big attraction this year was the "Hairy Bikers". I didn't know who they were but I walked close enough to them that I felt their overwhelming charisma wash over me. Not really, but I did walk by them. I haven't seen their show(s) but I will keep an eye out. They are life-long foodies slash bikers.

Overall, the festival was just ok. The main tent was too small for the crowd, so much so that we skipped more than one booth we would have otherwise tried out. The area near the first tent's entrance was a clear example of lack of understanding of people management. It was somewhere in this area a lovely, older lady identified us (must be my American flag jean jacket and constant singing of Bruce Springsteen tunes) as American and made an unsavoury comment to my wife about her "American" conduct "in line". This whole place was such a bloody mess that I heard more than one person say they were giving up and going outside so I'm not sure what was done that was uniquely American. Worse yet, many vendors also sold out of their more popular items before we got to them -- like the new winter flavors ofTyrell's Potato Crisps, including beef and horseradish. Nuts!

There is no question that the laws over here must be more lenient on the small batch production of liquor, beer, wine, and cider. About a fifth of the larger and more popular exhibits were alcohol related, including local whiskey and vodka producers. And they all had samples. Needless to say, by the time my previously-empty stomach made its way to the vendors outside selling sandwiches (we had a delicious roasted lamb baguette) and pizzas, I had a decent little freebie buzz going on. A few tastes of beer, some Celtic hootch, lime Vodka, rosehip wine, some dry cider, some sweet cider, Tyrell's vodka (of potato crisp fame), some bubbly, and so forth. The crowd didn't seem quite so bad by the time I reached the end of the tent.

Two good things came out of the event. First, I bolstered my liquor cabinet with some exciting new additions. Second, I gathered lots of pamphlets for local vendors -- many with websites and free local delivery. I expect I will soon be exploring websites about rare breed meats and getting them delivered straight to my gullet. At the top of my list is Frasers of Turnastone.

About the booze: I mentioned Monkhide in a previous post about our day trip to Ludlow. They were again selling their flavored wines, vodkas, whiskeys, and brandies. I already had a bottle of their vanilla vodka, maple whiskey, and pear brandy. We added a bottle of lime vodka and cherry brandy. The vanilla and lime vodkas are recommended to be frozen -- their alcohol content is such that they won't freeze solid but they turn to thick slush. Monkhide recommends letting them stand for a few minutes and then drinking the still icy result. I've tried it with the vanilla and it really is excellent.

I also sampled some local whiskey from a Welsh distillery, Penderyn. They had four varieties on sale -- including one that was "peated" (I think that means the malt used for the whiskey has been roasted by a source partially fueled by peat to give it an earthy flavour) and that one gentleman explained to me was there just to "appease the Scots." Ok, then. I bought a bottle of their main offering -- it really is fine stuff. Check out their website for awards and reviews, including pictures of the Prince drinking the stuff -- apparently he serves this brand at home. For you Chicago folks, it is also available at Binny's and Sam's.

Not sure if I would go next year, but the list of exhibitors and their websites is a good compilation of local resources that I will look forward to.

Cheers!

Warning: Dangerous Stereotypes Ahead

I'm going to skirt the lines of a touchy subject. If you do a Google search for "English bad teeth" you will discover multiple forums of mostly British folks discussing why other people (Americans) think they have bad teeth. In general, the average person in the forum thinks that Americans have hyper-perfect teeth, to a fault, and that Americans invest too much time making teeth whiter and straighter and that Americans think the English have bad teeth because English teeth aren't as white and aren't as straight. The truth is before Austin Powers, I never even thought about it.

That said, we've lived in England for about six months now. Hardly a lifetime but enough to get an opinion: Does everyone have bad teeth? No, not even close. But I can safely say I have seen more utterly shocking grills here than anywhere else I've been in the world. I completely understand where the Mike Myer's inspiration comes from. The odd teeth I have seen may because we live out in the sticks -- in fact, I'm pretty sure that has a lot to do with it because when travelling into London and such I don't notice the same thing.

If you read some of the more informed comments in the forums and in various other sources, you get the idea that about 50 years ago there was some more serious dental problems that were prominent in the UK. That has almost entirely been rectified by various approaches like putting chemicals in the drinking water, having more and better dentists, etc. This type of thing would be slower to have an effect in rural areas and I think that is the case where we live.

I started wondering about this after reading the back of a tasty bag of pork crackles. Warnings on pork crackles, no matter how tasty they are, really aren't helping the perception. C'mon Mr. Porky, you are part of the problem. Thank god Austin Powers number 4 is in the works now... soon we will have new British stereotypes so we can forget about the teeth.

Cheers!

Bread and Honey

I'm working on getting the gist of Cockney rhyming slang. It explains a few things you have heard around town. For example, "chew the fat" is rhyming slang for "have a chat". Would you "Adam and Eve It?" is slang for "Would you believe it?" One of the traditional reasons for using the slang was so that non-locals or people outside of your social circle wouldn't understand what you were talking about. This might include the police -- rhyming slang may have been the language of tea leaves -- er -- thieves.

I told my dear wife the other night that "Chuckie Cheese" was rhyming slang for "bitch, please", but I digest...

Made some more bread. My blog is so popular that people actually send me recipes now. Well, a person sent me a recipe, but it's a start. In response to previous bread blogs, one of my followers (thanks Belle!) sent me a recipe for "Cuban bread". Nice and easy -- takes about an hour from start to finish. Good for me: the impatient baker. I juiced mine up with some wheat and oat bran but followed the recipe pretty closely beyond that. Good bread -- mine was dense, not sure if that is intended (it only rises for 15 minutes) or because of the extra colon blow I added. The other loaves I made took a bit too long to be practical at any regular interval.

Cheers!

Extra Special Bestest Bitter

Just going to the bar here and ordering a beer can be a challenge. They have lots of terms for things that we just don't use in the USA. It's easy enough to catch on to ordering a pint (even though its not really a pint like we know it -- its 20 imperial ounces or 4 gills or a smidge bigger than a standard American pint!) but you quickly need to figure out why the barman looks at you funny when you order a "beer". Lager or ale or bitter, please!

A brew I've tried at home a couple of times is the "Herefordshire Ale & Pork Co. Hereford Best Bitter". It's actually made by Spinning Dog Brewery right in Hereford. I have tried a few of their offerings and they have all been good. This one was recommended to eat with pork and cracklings, if I recall the back label correctly.

Bitter is a term that has basically replaced 'pale ale' in England. Bitters, or pale ales, are known for their extra hopped flavor which is often described as tasting bitter. Hops, back before refrigeration, were found to have a preserving effect on brew. More hops meant that a brew could make a longer journey on a ship, like to India. In the USA, pale ales are often called out as 'India Pale Ales' or IPA.

I figured "best bitter" meant that this was one of their premium beers -- something they were proud of and that it was bitter. I now know, after a bit of reading, that 'best' in this case indicates that the brew has a bit more alcohol in it -- between 4.2% and 4.7%. The next tier of potency is the 'extra special' bitter, commonly seen in the USA as 'ESB'. You might have noticed that the beer here is typically weaker than what is served in the USA. Pubs often serve weaker variants of the same beers you can get in the grocery.

About the bitter: it was good! Malty, nice amber color. A bit of fruit flavor. Just a small head on it.

Cheers!

The Virus, part II

VIRUS UPDATE: Things are more complicated than I hoped. My full-time antivirus (BitDefender) didn't catch or find a virus, nor could Kaspersky anti-virus, Super Anti-Spyware, Symantec Security Scan, or Spybot Search and Destroy. I also have a good hardware firewall between my laptop and the Internet. If there is a virus on my PC, it is beyond the means of the majority of tools out there to find. I did some research on the message that was sent from my email and other unfortunate people have been getting hit with a very similar attack since at least December 2007. I actually received one of the bogus messages from someone else in early September. In all the forums I have read, not a single person attacked in this manner actually found a virus or malware or trojan on their PC.

So where did it come from? My current theory is that it isn't on my computer. Something stole my password or brute-force attacked my account, logged into my email, and starting sending messages. A forum at MajorGeeks says that a keylogger on a computer I used somewhere recorded everything typed into that PC and is smart enough to tell when an email address and password is typed in. Another possibility is that while I was surfing the web, a vulnerability in Java allowed a website to get my email password. The first thing I did after discovering the issue was change my email passwords -- making each even more complicated and different than the others -- so hopefully that will help prevent another outbreak.

What you should do: Change your email password! This attack has hit people using Gmail, Yahoo!, and (mostly) Hotmail. Both Mac and PC users, too. Also, if you have an email service that provides a password reset utility that uses a 'question and answer' type security check, make sure your question and answer couldn't be guessed. For example, my Hotmail account had the question, "What was the name of your first pet?' and my answer was the too-common "Snoopy". It was true, but easily guessed. No one would ever guess a family member's hometown, so I have changed it to that. If you have stronger suspicions of a virus on your PC, the guides here are very thorough (plan on taking half a day to clean your PC) but cover all the bases. If you use a password similar to your email password ANYWHERE on the web, change it. It is possible that I used the same password as my email password somewhere and that website was hacked (or wasn't legit to begin with) and they then tried it on my email.

Argh!

Sick

Sorry to everyone! I have a virus somewhere and at 7:30PM on 10/17/2008 (UK time) my PC emailed everyone I had in my contacts, sent messages, received messages -- everyone! -- a message about some website for electronics. My antivirus and firewall didn't catch it... don't open any weird emails from me!

Sorry! - Keptman

Pie From Scratch

We spent last weekend in London with our American guests, and dinner Friday night was a treat: St John. We had been there once before... and hope to go a few more times. It's quickly becoming one of my favorite restaurants. St John showed up in a previous blog, too.

The food on our previous visit was a notch better but I think that really comes down to food choices. This place is so diverse and ever-changing that you could go once a week and have a different experience every time you went. I could have gotten the bone marrow and parsley again, but I tried something different.

We started with some raw oysters... I mention that in hopes that I get another public service announcement posted into the comment section, like I did here. We followed that with a round of starters:

• Roast Bone Marrow & Parsley Salad (a favorite!) (Cristen)
  
• Snails and Oakleaf (fried snails and greens) (R and Pez)
  
• Octopus, Potato, and Green Sauce (Keptman)
  

For mains -- Pez and I split a pie:

• Pheasant & Trotter Pie, for two (Pez and me)
  
• Skate, Courgettes (zucchini), & Saffron (R)
  
• Roast Beef, Beetroot, & Horseradish (Cristen)
  
• Side to share: New Potatoes and Sprout Tops

Then for dessert, with dessert wines to match:

• Chocolate Cake and Creme Fraiche (Pez)
  
• Honey Roast Figs and Toasted Brioche (Cristen)
  
• Malt Custard & Shortbread (Keptman)
  
• Caramel Ice Cream (R)
  

So about that pie: Pheasant and trotter. Trotter here means the foot of a pig. As the trotter in the pie cooks, it releases fat and gelatin that give the pie its savoury richness. This was definitely the highlight of my meal. Here are some more pie shots.

Crust with fatty juices and marrow-bone-vent protruding...

The first lovin' spoonful...oh, that's nice.


Would it be cool if I licked the bowl? No?


Good pie.

If we ever get enough people (or maybe even if we don't) together in London, they do a whole roast suckling pig for groups of 8 or more. They had one waiting in the kitchen for some lucky group. Who's in for that?!?!

Cheers!

If you want to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe.
Carl Sagan (1934-1996)

The Meat and Drink of Ludlow

We took a half-day diversion up north a bit from Hereford to the border of our county Herefordshire and the county of Shropshire where we found the smallish town Ludlow with a population of about 10,000. Ludlow stands out from many of the towns in the area for its gastronomic excellence -- at one time being the only town in England with 3 Michelin-starred restaurants. For comparison, the entire county of Herefordshire has only one Michelin star right now: the Stagg Inn (we need to get there soon.) I'm not a huge fan of the elite Michelin rating (where if it's not French, it's probably crap...) but its very hard to achieve so something was cooking in Ludlow. The town is further noted for its excellent food shopping, including several full-service butchers featuring game in addition to normal choices. Funny thing, though, we didn't eat there.

We did catch the very tail end of a bi-monthly market. Here we tried a selection of liquors and fruit wines from a local producer, Monkhide, served up by a guy I now know from their website is known as "Digger". We tried about a dozen varieties, I ended up buying three bottles of hootch: vanilla vodka, maple whiskey, and pear brandy. Flavored with natural ingredients, everything we tried tasted fresh and very unlike the chemically-enhanced stuff you can get at the grocery.


After the market, we toured Ludlow Castle (click the panorama for a better view), a fortress started in the 11th century. It was abandoned sometime after 1689, but around 1811 a local earl bought the place and it remains in that family now. No one lives there now and it is open for daily entrance. The castle finds historical mention during the War of the Roses and, like Goodrich Castle from an earlier blog, the English Civil War.

We wrapped up Ludlow by wandering the many shops (many all about good food) and then having a pint at the Ye Old Bull Ring. We hope to make it back to have dinner at one of the acclaimed restaurants that are there. Til then...

Cheers!

Crisps With Warnings

I'll take one for the team in my pursuit of all things spicy. I didn't even blink -- when I saw a 'limited edition' crisp that claimed to be 'EXTREMELY HOT & SPICY', well, I had to gimmesome of that. Did it matter that I really didn't have much idea what 'chicken madras' was? No. Compared to some of things I've eaten in my day, anything coming out of a crisp bag is a piece of cake. Except for some of things that come out of crisps bags in Japan.

Needless to say, I survived despite the warning. The chips are a bit tangy but not really spicy -- maybe not even Dorito levels. I would get them again, the flavor wasn't so bad but I would give them a shake or two of habanero powder to keep from being disappointed with each bite.

Madras, by the way, is a red curry heavy with chilli powder that originates from the south of India.

Cheers!

Get To A Bottle Of Stout

So Pez and I took a train from Hereford to Holyhead up over in Wales, then jumped a Stena Line Ferry to Dun Laoghaire over in Ireland. The whole trip took about 6 hours but it was so easy going, time flew. The ferry was amazing... when you walk from the loading area onto the ferry it is hard to tell when land ends and boat begins. The seating is nothing like a bus or plane or train, for that matter, it is more like a floating bar with comfortable seats or booths around tables. The ferry had at least 3 bars, a Burger King, a cafeteria style restaurant, a café, a casino, a video arcade, and duty-free shopping. It also had 15ft waves on the way out and Dramamine was in order.


I didn't have much of an expectation of Dublin -- and we didn't have a ton of time either. So we focused on a couple of key sites and then re-focused on what always is most important whilst travelling: eating and drinking!


Stop 1 on our only full day was the Guinness Storehouse and Tourist Trap -- albeit a very well done tourist trap. The place is seven floors of Guinness goodness, ending with a free (sorta, it was 15 euros to get in) pint in the Gravity Bar with arguably the best view of Dublin.


Kilmainhan Gaol (Kilmanhain Jail) was a long-walk out of our way but proved to be more interesting that expected. I knew nothing about Irish history and the tales of the people that were imprisoned here are a good beginner's guide to what happened in Ireland over the last couple hundred years. In the jail, there is a museum or you can walk the halls in a guided tour.

After the long walk to the jail, we were mostly done with non-drinking related tourist attractions. We spent the rest of the evening jumping between a few bars, having more Guinness than we needed. Cheers!


An Irishman is the only man in the world who will step over the bodies of a dozen naked women to get to a bottle of stout. - Unknown

Oh Sheela

If you look up Hereford in a handful of travel books, there are a few things you will see in every one. You'll find the cathedral in town, it's famous Mappa Mundi, the Chained Library, something about apple cider, and finally, just outside of town: the church in Kilpeck.

The tiny village of Kilpeck actually lies just off a main road between the Lilacs and the wife's office. I knew the church was there but we just hadn't taken the time to drive down the winding, narrow country lane that leads into the village. This past week, we had some guests in town and finally made the trip.

The church, officially St. Mary and St. David's Church, is a phenomenal example of Norman architecture and also a great example of finding something amazing where you'd least expect it. Built around 1140, the small, quaint church stands in close to its original form. Much of the wonder of the church centers around the multitude of carvings that ring the doors and roof of the church, especially the Sheela Na Gig. But ... wait a minute ... it's not just any Sheela Na Gig, it's possibly the most important and most famous Sheela Na Gig of all.

Yes, I had to look it up too -- even after I saw the carving I didn't know what it meant. A Sheela Na Gig is a "carving of a woman with exposed and/or exaggerated genitalia, usually found on religious buildings". There are bunches of theories about what exactly these statues/carvings meant and how a symbol that could be considered extremely vulgar and might have ties to pagan religion would end up on Christian churches all over the place. One of the most accepted theories is that it is a warning against lust -- and that back in the day an image like this would have been more acceptable than our now much more prudish ways. Other theories are that it is a good luck symbol (flashing your lady bits back in the day was considered a way to wish good luck!) or a symbol to protect from evil (the devil doesn't like the look of lady bits.)

Either way, its quite shocking to see something like this on a church of all places. Some of the other carvings, while not as controversial, are quite interesting too, like a comical dog and hare montage, green men (another symbol with possible pagan origins), upside down stags, and many more.

This little place was one of my favorite things I have seen so far in England. Mysterious, beautiful, eerily quiet ... walking around it you felt a sense of a time long forgotten, long before blogs and the Internet made understanding the world a supposedly easier task.

I can't take credit for all the pictures here. The wife took my camera and hogged it for half our visit.

Gone Country

In a restaurant, I think one of the best indicators that a good meal is about to be served is when the bread they bring out before hand is fresh, handmade, and can't-stop-eating-it good. I'd tried my hand at baking bread before but I always ended up with crap: dry, bland, hard as a rock, and just not good.

But to complete my transition to a true country-living, land-loving Kept Man, I need to add some additional domestic tasks to my repertoire. Fresh baked bread every day? Maybe...

In the past few weeks, I've renewed the effort to make some good bread -- and we finally had some success. The first batch I made was 'country hearth bread' (or my interpretation of it) and was a mix of white bread flour and wheat bran with a touch of honey. I didn't quite have all the ingredients for the recipe I was loosely following but my improvisations seemed to work out.

We had this with cream of mushroom soup made from four different kinds of fungus from the store here, topped with some truffle oil we brought back from Rome. The bread was perfect with the soup and we had to fight over the leftovers.

Last week, I made some 'quick' ciabatta. It was good but I skipped about four hours of steps (I really don't have the patience for baking.) I'd show pictures of that one but it some how ended up looking like a, uh, male fertility symbol. Naughty bread, it was.

Stagg Party or An Ode To Tommy Seebach

Had some chili here the other night, straight out of a tin can. The wife was off in London or some other exotic locale and here I was sitting in the shire without too much going on in the pantry. Except for a lonely can of Stagg Chili, Dynamite Hot flavor chocked full of minced beef that was shaped into... minced beef? I expect nothing more from Hormel.

I have a thing for spicy food and often eat it without much regard for the morning after. I also had my doubts that anything labelled spicy in England (Indian restaurants aside) is actually spicier than a Taco flavored Dorito. Happily, the Stagg surprised me with a nice burning euphoria. But why stop there when you have a dwarf apache (did someone say Apache? Tommy Seebach!) chili pepper plant producing dozens of little firecrackers?

The end result was a bowl of Stagg Chili, covered in some Turkish cheese, a pile of onions, some double cream, and finally, a healthy sprinkling of dwarf apaches. Well, I guess that wasn't really the end result since that came about 6 hours later. Use your imagination.


And you just can't say 'apache' without sharing some Seebach.

Roaring Meg, Now That Was A Fun Girl

Just a stone's throw from the Lilacs here lies Goodrich Castle, a Norman-built fortress that still stands in reasonable quality. Goodrich was built around the 11th century and held control over a crossing point of the River Wye (that's the big river that runs through Hereford and the namesake of our Wye Valley.)

I was ignorant of the fact that England had a civil war, too. The war (actually several wars for basically the same reason) were armed conflicts between folks who supported the role of the crown as the ruler vs. those who wanted parliament to be in control. Not too long ago (it's all relative): the wars happened around the year 1650. Goodrich Castle was the site of a somewhat famous siege during that war, and Roaring Meg was a massive cannon that was brought in to bring the castle down. I'm guessing there is a really good, long-forgotten story about some lassie named 'Meg' that would have been worth writing down. Just a few years ago, Meg was brought back to Goodrich and sits on display in its main courtyard.

Lost In Space

The blog has fallen off track again. Sorry for the daily readers out there. Work and playing host to our first guests in England has taken priority, not to mention a road trip (because rail and ferry trip sounds dirty) to Dublin and a tour of some of the sites in our own shire here. Coming up this week:

1. Goodrich Castle -- Not just a pile of rocks and a good story.
2. Kilpeck Church -- 800 years old and virtually untouched by time.
3. Dublin!
   
4. Stagg Dynamite Chili with Extra Apache Peppers
5. Crisp Review: This one had a warning on the bag.
6. And more!