I’ve been visiting the U.K., on my way soon to Ireland.
As much as I love London and now Oxford, I must say that, unless you’re willing to pay 80 to 100 pounds for an individual meal in a fine European restaurant in either of those cities, you are up a creek in England, just as I remember being so some years ago when I was last in this country. The middle-of-the-road cuisine is as bad as it ever was…and that despite the arrival of so many Turks, Lebanese, French, Arabs, Italians, Greeks, Africans et.al. in the meantime. Their food is bad, too. So, I’ve pretty much depended on food-market salads and fruits, the occasional mediocre pizza...or the even worse pasta, no matter what sort. (The wine’s not bad, since it is mostly imported from France and Italy, and not made here.)
This very morning, I went to a coffee shop on Cowley Road in Oxford, of which there are many. The coffee, if there is an espresso machine in the place (which actually is the case these days, in the cities at least) is very good. But, the baked goods? Sometimes they’re fresh. Rarely in great variety. And this coffee shop had a selection of croissants that looked like painted cement and some horrifying raisin things that I worried would break my teeth. The kid behind the counter, English working class maybe twenty years old, was insulted when I told him I was leaving. I wondered, was it my disillusionment with his pastries? Or my California accent that, despite my excellent vocabulary and superb ability for conversation, probably sounded a little too Clint Eastwood (“Who owns this shit hole?”), too Gold Rush, too San Francisco Earthquake for him. “Cheers, mate!” he said as I closed the door behind me.
So far, this has been the story of my discoveries in cuisine in contemporary England. I’ve been reading for years about how much improvement there has been here, but I’m not prepared yet to add my voice to the chorus.
And I’m not prepared yet to tell you about the food in Ireland, where I am headed next.
New York! San Francisco! Paris! Where (and your foods) are you?
That aside (and for me, that’s a considerable aside) I’m enjoying myself.
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Oh my giddy aunt, that is such a dreadful shame, if only you had taken a slight detour to visit the absolute jewel in the UK crown, the Gower Peninsula South Wales, you would have left the mainland with an entirely different impression of culinary offerings. Let's hope you discover the type of cuisine of your dreams when you reach those 'Emerald Isles'.
Come to think of it, it may not be too late if your journey happens to be via the M4 to pick up the ferry in West Wales. Go on risk it, the time will be well spent I assure you: the scenery alone will fill your soul with joy!
Replace the disappointment of 'cement offerings' with mouth-watering 'Welsh Cakes' and top notch coffee at 'Coffee Baker', a quaint and comfortable establishment in the sweet historic fishing village of Mumbles, Swansea, where I can guarantee you'll encounter staff who are trained to please visitors, this being a very popular tourist destination in the Summer months. Visitors to Gower plan at least a few hours stop off at Mumbles on their way to the magnificent geological marvel that is The Worm's Head, Rhossili: a natural phenomenon, a promontory with a breath-taking blow-hole through which the ocean is forced at great pressure, creating a tower of spray reaching dozens of feet into the air.
Complete your visit with time spent at a Milonga where your soul will be soothed by the embrace of a Welsh tanguera, or several Welsh tangueras!
Hwyl!