Sweetie Darling? British Words from A to Zed, Week 4

This is what I heard one of my friends say recently. No she’s not pretentious or snooty…she was just offering some candy (sweeties) to her child (darling). I’m sharing this little fun fact with you as an intro to today’s word post on all things sweet. Actually I’m going to focus on British puddings and I’m definitely talking about the sweet kind, not the savoury. Blood pudding? Can we all say ewww?!

British puddings are fab-u-lous. And, just in case your pudd is not quite fab enough, well, the person serving it to you will usually ask if you would you like cream on that? Or custard? Or ice cream? And you would say yes. Because there’s only about 10,000 calories in the pudding so let’s go ahead and bring on the custard too. My goodness, the dairy products in this country are amazing. I could pretty much drink the double cream straight out of the carton. I don’t…but I could.

There are so many wonderful pudds I’d love to mention that I’m feeling almost giddy just thinking about it. Let me start with my favourite…sticky toffee pudding.

Sticky Toffee Pudding is a moist sponge cake made with very finely chopped dates and covered in a warm toffee sauce. The toffee sauce y’all…sigh.

Gosh, maybe I should have saved that one for the end because I’m having trouble focusing on what to say next. Oh yeah…I was going to tell you that the very first week I lived in England my next door neighbour arrived at my front door with a homemade Bakewell Tart to say welcome to the neighborhood. Except she said, 'Welcome to the estate' because that's what they call the neighborhoods here. She is originally from the town of Bakewell which is in Derbyshire so I considered her gift truly authentic. And delicious. A Bakewell Tart is basically a short crust pastry shell spread with jam (usually raspberry), and covered with a dense almond topping.

Crumbles are a very popular dessert here and are made with whatever fruit is in season. My favourite is apple and plum and with some cream or custard poured on top it is ‘gorgeous’. You will often hear the word gorgeous used when describing food here. Somehow it works.


If you saw the movie Calendar Girls you will recognize the pudd known as The Victoria Sponge. which incidentally was named for Queen Victoria. It was actually one of Queen Victoria’s ladies-in-waiting who is said to have been the creator of tea time which I’ll write about another day. A Victoria Sponge is a light and fluffy sponge cake sandwiched together with strawberry or raspberry jam and buttercream. A cake sandwich is definitely my kind of sandwich. Do I need to add that it is scrumptious? I thought not.

I will mention here that if you plan to bake your own pudds in this country you really need to be prepared to face the sugar aisle of the supermarket. Recipes tend to be quite specific as to which type you should use …icing sugar (confectioners), caster sugar (very finely granulated sugar), Demerara sugar (raw sugar), brown sugar, muscovado sugar (a specialty very dark brown sugar with a strong molasses flavour) …Have I mentioned that I love England? I mean really, between the sugars and the creams what’s not to love?

I don’t suppose I can end a post on British pudds without mentioning this one and before you say anything I know what you’re thinking.

You’re thinking you had no idea you could get cake in a can.


Okay, maybe that isn’t what you’re thinking but stop what you are thinking for a minute and think about that. You can get cake in a can here. I’ve honestly never eaten one out of the can but hubs and I did have a little bit of fun (in addition to more than slightly embarrassing our teenage daughters) when we took cans of this one home to our brothers as stocking stuffers the first Christmas we were here.


Finished giggling now? I suppose it does need a bit of explanation but it’s really just another pudd that you will see on pretty much every pub menu and in many restaurants here. Steamed puddings are popular and years ago you would have had to steam them yourself but now you can buy some of the traditional steamed puddings in the market and just microwave on a plate. Not quite the same but almost. The chocolate with the melty middle is my personal favourite because when you put your fork into it all this lovely melted chocolate syrup gushes out. What was I saying…oh yes, the can pictured above is a traditional steamed sponge pudding made with golden syrup, suet and raisins and like most other pudds here is best served with warm custard poured over top. Of course it is.

The name possibly comes from a corruption of the word pudding (pudding became puddink which became puddick and you get the idea). Spotted refers to the effect created by the raisins.

And on that note I think I really will end this post. You’re welcome.

This Side That Side Which Side Both Sides

This past week has been a whirlwind of activity and emotion. We spent the week in the US house hunting, trying to picture life on that side of the pond once more… the towns, roads, malls, supermarkets, and oh yeah, my husband also has to think about his new job assignment every few seconds too.

Prior to making the trip stateside I was feeling rather blue and slightly anxious about the visit and especially about what buying a house in the states means for me. It means I’m moving. And, a huge part of me has just not been too excited about that fact. There was also the small part of me that could get excited about repatriating but we’ve been in a state of limbo for several months now wondering if and when this was actually going to happen so I’ve not really let myself feel any excitement. But here we are. It is actually happening. Soon. And it’s really hard to explain out loud to friends and family how I am feeling about it all because pretty much all of our friends and family say, ‘Wow, you must be so happy and excited to be coming back to America finally.’ Well, yes. And no. Please don't misunderstand...in this economic climate we are truly thankful to have a job to move back to. I will say though that I have moved many many times in my life and it is not something that gets easier the more you do it. If anything I think as you get older it definitely gets tougher. So as we boarded our flight to the states last Friday I was maybe feeling a little sorry for myself and I might have let a tear slip as we pulled away from Heathrow and I tried to imagine how it will feel to make that trip and know I’m not returning in a week or two.

It’s a very funny place I find myself in at the moment. This funny place I find myself in is actually what prompted me to start blogging. I hoped to write some about how I’m feeling during this time of transition in my life. When I moved to England I had two children living at home, one was only 13 years old. I am returning to the states to a new house in a new town with no children living at home. A repatriation counsellor has informed me I’m ripe for a mid-life crisis. Terrific. Not exactly the reassurance I was looking for when I attended the repatriation seminar. If someone had told me ten years ago that I would someday need to attend a repatriation seminar I wouldn’t have even known what in the world they were talking about. I had no idea there was an entire profession dedicated to helping people acclimate to a new country or re-acclimate back to their home country which will feel in many ways like a new country when you’ve been living away from it for years. I probably would have been thinking, ‘What’s there to get used to? It’s America…home…it will be a no-brainer.’ Funny how time and distance and life in another country can change your perspective.

But here’s the thing…we really loved spending time this past week in the little town in North Jersey where we’ll be living once we get moved. And y’all… you do kind of forget how friendly Americans are. And I’m not saying people aren’t friendly in England but it’s not the same sort of friendliness you encounter in America. Everyone talks to you. The waiter, the person filling up my car, the man in line behind me at the post office, the bank teller, everyone. And they all seem to be rooting for me. They want me to love moving back, to love living in America once more. And I will.

So we enjoyed our week, felt overwhelmed in the shops, only tried to get in the car on the wrong side once or twice or everyday, bought a beautiful house in a lovely town, ate real New York style pizza and some awesome Mexican food, ran into some old friends, soaked up the sunshine, smiled at the deer we saw in someone’s yard, admired the very pretty views of the mountain ridge and valleys (hey, they don’t call it the Garden State for nothing!), talked about the fun we’d have popping in to New York City, and the list goes on. We got on a plane back to England Friday night feeling pretty happy and also excited about our future plans.

We arrived at Heathrow Airport early Saturday morning. You have to love a country where you can be in an airplane and have clouds so thick that you have no idea you’re touching down until the wheels actually make contact with the runway. And we picked up our pup at the kennel and chatted with the owner there for a few minutes about how darling our dog is and how her underbite gives her character. And we walked thru our front door into the charming English house we have lived in for 6 years. And I opened the curtains in my kitchen and saw my garden and all that had popped open in it while I was away. And it is truly beautiful and a sight I never get tired of seeing. And I ran into Fishers which is our local market, and the checker asked if I’d been away. And then today we went out to see the ‘car guy’ who has been working on my husband’s little MG while we were out of town and when my husband told him we were moving back to the states the car guy who we’ve dealt with for years actually got a little teary. And he gave me a big hug. And between the emotion, the exhaustion and the jet lag I contemplated for a minute collapsing into a puddle on his driveway.


Soon this side of the pond will be that side of the pond. Do I change my blog title? No, I don’t think so. The verses at the top of my blog are some of my favourite and have come to mean a lot to me especially these past few years as we’ve settled on ‘the far side of the sea.’ When we moved to England it was easy to feel that was precisely what we had done. I guess I just never thought that in re-settling in America, my home country for a time will also feel like ‘the far side of the sea'.

True Story...British Words from A to Zed, Week 3

I know I've written more than once about all things related to driving in England but I also said I could write a novel on that topic. And, I’ve noticed a few things as we’ve been out and about on the motorways this week here in the good ole USA. For one thing the motorways are wide. And if we were talking hips that would be a bad thing but we’re talking interstate highways and wide is a very good thing. In England the high speed roads are called motorways and are numbered much like the interstates are here. So you might hear me say something like, ‘ We almost missed our flight to South Carolina last summer because we sat on the M25 for several hours while the policemen tried to talk down a man dressed as Batman who had climbed out on the signpost over what is one of the busiest motorways in the world.’ True story.

The car parks are wide in America too. And by car park I mean parking lot. The spaces are wide and that lane between each row of parking spaces is really really wide. And you can swing a car door open and not hit the car beside you. I shop in Windsor quite often and their car park has to be one of the absolute worst (Think Gene Hackman in The French Connection). I actually have to let any passengers out of the car before pulling into a space because the spaces are so narrow. And I have to inhale deeply and hope the trips to the gym are paying off in order to get out myself. True story.

The word circus is not used in connection with driving in America. When I think of a circus I think of lots and lots of activity, bells and whistles and flashing lights and people and animals and craziness. In the UK the term refers to an intersection in town with several streets converging…if you’ve been to London you’ve probably seen the signs for Oxford Circus. Hillingdon Circus was not too far from the school my girls attended so I found myself there quite often. Actually, now that I think about it the word circus makes perfect sense. And you might hear me say something like, ‘I want to avoid driving anywhere near that circus.’ And you can define the use of the word 'circus' there whichever way you prefer. True story.

And I know there are cameras placed in certain intersections here in America but the UK is home to the bright yellow box known as the speed camera. Not all of them are yellow but they are easy to spot. And in all fairness you get plenty of warning when you are approaching a speed camera zone. There will be a picture of a camera signposted before you actually get to the camera. Then there will be white lines painted across the road while you travel thru the speed zone. The camera itself is a big box. And, if you still miss it they kindly send you a photograph of your smiling self driving thru it. You'll actually only get to see your photo if you happened to drive thru the camera a little too fast and they need to attach said photograph to a citation. True story.

I’ve also noticed that in America drivers don’t seem to pay a lot of attention to driving in the proper lane. (As an aside, my entire family uses the word ‘proper’ a lot. It’s another one of my favorites. As in I need a proper nap. I need a proper meal. I’d love a proper holiday on one of the Italian lakes. True story.) In the UK if you want to drive slowly you do not drive in the fast lane. Which of course is the right lane in Britain, not the left like in the US because remember we’re on the right side of the vehicle and on the left hand side of the road so you’re fast/slow lanes are also reversed. Everyone clear? Thought so.

When you're driving on the motorways whether you're here or there you want to stay off the verge. And watch out for the articulated lorries too. If you have difficulties look for a layby. In other words...keep off the shoulder, watch out for the semis and if you have difficulties look for a paved area at the side of the highway designated for drivers to stop in or where vehicles may park in an emergency. In the UK some of the laybys actually have food vendors and you might be able to grab a sarnie and ribena for the road. That would be a sandwich and a ribena. Sorry ribena is ribena, a black currant juice drink super popular here as are all things black currant flavored. Not really much grape here. Even the purple Skittles and purple Starburst candies are black currant (btw-eww!) Oops I forgot... this post is about driving words not eating and drinking words.


Next Wednesday I'm writing about British pudds....I think I can say in all honesty that is one area in which I consider myself an expert. True story.

I Think Bob Said It Best

Wow, two posts in one day-this is a first for me. It was either write another blog post or go to bed at 6:30 and since I know I need to get into this time zone I went with the blog option. Plus I read some comments and feel like I need to clarify what's happening with us.

• Yes we are moving back to the US after 6 years in the UK.
• We don't know the exact timing of the move but expect it all to happen at the start of summer.
• We will be living in Northern New Jersey. We lived in this area many years ago and in fact my youngest daughter was born just across the border in New York state.
• I love the New York City skyline.
• We aren't moving to the same town that we lived in before but I still feel like I'm in some sort of time warp and images of my now 18 and 20 year old daughters in their toddler years keep popping into my head.
• There is alot of informercial programming on US television.

Okay maybe that last thought has nothing to do with anything but it's so true. Speaking of television, The Miss USA pageant just came on and what's up with that? It has an icky Las Vegas showgirl vibe happening.

Moving house, moving country, Miss USA is getting a 'green crown' whatever that means. In the words of Bob Dylan people ...'the times they are a-changin'.

Running on Empty

So turns out house hunting is exhausting. We had our first full day of looking yesterday and I'd been awake since 1:30 am so I probably wasn't at my very best. I tried to sleep Friday night..I really did. My husband managed to sleep and since I didn't want to wake him up I finally took my book and decided to lay down in the bathtub at about 3:30. It was the only place to stretch out and turn on a light. We left the hotel at 8 am to meet our realtor and we arrived a little bit early so we drove around the little town we think we'll eventually be living in and we walked up to the lake and I remembered how much I love living near the water.

We viewed nine houses yesterday and things get a little blurry after that. We finally headed back to the hotel about 4 but my husband, who is just never tired and always has an endless supply of energy, felt the need to pull into every car dealership we passed 'just to look'. Actually buying a house is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to moving back. We will have to buy cars too. And televisions. And a refrigerator. And a washer and a dryer and about 20 thousand hundred other items. And did I mention we have two kids in college? And it might have been somewhere around the third car dealership that my husband says 'Mean Joyce' came out. And apparently Mean Joyce convinced hubby that we should go back to the hotel 'straight away' as they say in the UK. I sat down on the bed for a nap at 5 PM and woke up at 5 am this morning. Much better now.

We're meeting our realtor again this morning for round 2 of looking. I'm sure we won't be seeing 'Mean Joyce' at all today. Pretty sure anyway.

Jet lag makes your brain like jelly

I arrived on the other side of the pond a few hours ago and thought I'd make a few random observations about random thoughts that have randomly occured to me as we were traveling today. I'm between time zones at the moment so random will be the key word...

• Our luggage-remember the old Samsonite commercials where a car drove over a suitcase or an elephant stood on top of it and the suitcase still looked good as new? Well that's not ours.
  


• People really make themselves at home in a big way in the British Airways lounge.
  


• You can take a polo gap year...really....in Argentina. Who knew? I learned this reading an in flight magazine. Taking a gap year is a hugely popular thing to do especially among the European kids. They typically take a year off following the end of highschool or the end of university and travel the world and have awesome experiences. My husband says he'd like a gap year. And he'd like it now please.

• Airline headphones + 7 1/2 hours on a plane = bad hair
  


• Walking into the International terminal and seeing Welcome to The United States of America makes my heart sing.
  


• And seeing that sign and hearing the Immigration Agent say 'Welcome Home' makes me want to leap across the desk and give him a big hug. But I don't because they are actually kind of serious in immigration.
  


• Riding the tram between the terminals at the Newark Airport feels a little bit like Disneyworld. Except with lots of aggravation and not all the fun stuff you get at Disney.
  


• And my husband is so anglicized he doesn't even realize he told the co-worker he phoned from the airport that we had arrived and were on the way to 'hire a car'. In the UK it's always a car hire but I'm petty sure it's still called a rental on this side of the pond.
  


• And when we get in the 'hire car' my husband says, 'Don't let me drive on the wrong side of the road.' And I don't.
  


• It's bright here.
  


• I'm going to have a real pizza for dinner tonite. Pizza is different on our side of the pond so this is way more exciting than it might sound.


• I can love both sides of the pond. And I do.

Starter Main Pudd…Dinner Anyone? From A to Zed -Week 2

I threw some phrases out last week that some or one of you have asked about….let’s start by clearing up some of the mystery:

What is a bap? Essentially this is a hamburger bun. There are lots of sandwich shops here and in fact there is one in our little village called ‘Mrs. Crusty’s –does that sound appetizing to you? Me either. In fact my kids refused to set foot inside based solely on its name. There’s a ‘Mr. Crusty’s in another nearby town. Actually they make excellent sandwiches and when you order they usually ask if you want your sandwich on a bap, granary roll, baguette or bread. If you respond with bread they’ll ask white or brown? And then they usually ask, ‘Do you want salad on that?’ and if you’re American you’re thinking, ‘ewww, no, why would I want a salad on my sandwich???’ which helps explain why, when my daughter ordered a BLT, she ended up with a ham and tomato sandwich.



Let’s break it down shall we- there are three key ingredients to a BLT hence the name. First there is the b for bacon-well now unless it is unsmoked streaky bacon then its generally back bacon which is delicious but doesn’t have that Oscar Meyer taste if you know what I mean. Tastes much more like ham. Next comes the l for lettuce. Supposedly. When my daughter ordered her BLT the server asked, ‘Do you want salad on that’ and of course she said no thinking l is for lettuce right? But, because she said no salad there was actually no l at all on the bLt. Do you see the problem? She did get tomato and a tomato is a tomato here except you must say to-mah-to. It’s the law.


And all this talk about salad brings me to another word I mentioned last week and that word is rocket and it’s got nothing to do with outer space and everything to do with salad. Rocket is what Americans would call arugula and it is delicious and wildly popular here.


Perhaps you would like a white coffee with that sandwich? Or more commonly you will ask for a coffee and the server will ask, ‘white or black’? If you’re like me you’re thinking neither…I’ll have a coffee with a little cream…which is indeed a white coffee. Maybe you’d like a digestive biscuit with that white coffee? That may sound like something for an upset stomach but it’s not. Cookies are called biscuits here and a digestive biscuit is similar in taste to a graham cracker. I’ve crumbled them to use as a substitute for a graham cracker crust in my baking here since we don’t have graham crackers.


Completely coincidental to this post my husband and I actually ‘rocked up to a restaurant for a Ruby Murray’ this evening. Ruby Murray is rhyming slang for a curry and rock up means to arrive. If you’re going for a curry you just might use this expression. I’ve never actually said it myself until now but you might. I have however eaten curry. Lots and lots and lots of curry. My little family here, well, we all love Indian food and I know lots and lots and lots of you are turning up your noses at the mere thought of Indian food and thinking you don’t like it but there are many delicious dishes and all levels of spice. My husband always gets a small side plate of diced chillies because too hot is not in his vocabulary. Daughter2 orders exactly the same dish every time…butter chicken. This is chicken swimming in the most delicious sauce you’ve ever tasted, so creamy… just like butter. And I am completely addicted to the Peshwari Nan which is Nan bread (flat bread) with coconut filling. Kind of like eating coconut pie with your dinner.

We have our favourite local spot in town and we eat there at least every other week. And they treat us like celebrities. It’s such fun truly because when we moved here we dined in this restaurant and they treated us very coolly at first. Just a head nod when we came in. After some months went by we graduated to a small handshake. And now, six years later we get the owner kissing me on the cheek and every waiter in the place stops by our table to shake hands with my husband and greet us. And if my husband and I ever went in with only one of our daughters they would worry…. ‘Where is the miss?’ they would ask. And now that our girls are both away at uni they always ask, ‘You miss your daughters?’ And by the way, the answer to that would be a YES! They like to see our family all together. (Me too!) I think our experience over time in this little Indian restaurant has taught all of us really important lessons about people and culture and etiquette within different cultures and prejudice and friendship and of course, food.


I haven’t even begun to talk about my favourite thing…the pudd. Or pudding as it is called here. The term pudding can go about 10 different directions-I might be talking about Black Pudding but I probably never would (it’s also referred to as blood pudding). I might mean Christmas pudding which is similar to a fruit cake and is doused in brandy or rum and then lit afire and is really quite fun. I could mean Yorkshire pudding and I heart Yorkshire pudding which I’d say is kind of like a Pillsbury biscuit but not really. It rises high and fluffy around the edges and is usually served with roast beef and drenched in gravy. Did I tell you I heart Yorkshire pudding? Most likely though if I say Pudding I’m referring to the dessert section on a menu which is generally just headed Puddings but covers all sorts of cakes, tarts, and assorted other goodies including jellies. Now I could write a whole post on this and in fact I think I will. Except it won’t be next Wednesday because I’m travelling next week and we all know that puddings will require some photos and probably I’m going to need to do some tasting purely for the purpose of blog authenticity so puddings will be in two weeks time.

No worries though…there are plenty of topics to choose from for next Wednesday…healthcare, housing, education…sounds slightly political doesn’t it? Oh, that’s another one…government. Words are everywhere y’all! I'm thinking now these word posts may never end.