A few weeks ago we booked a half-day cooking class and a market visit with Maribel of Taste of Italy. http://www.taste-of-italy.com/

As arranged, we met up at a café near the market area. After a fast espresso, we headed out. She ushered us into several shops, discussing each's specialties, and what particulars of type or variety to look for. We saw what looked most appealing in the vegetable shops, and discussed what we'd make today. Because of the heat (what, you think I can get through a blog entry without telling you how hot it is here?) we wanted to keep things on the light side. I asked her about what the Bolognese make at home, since the restaurant cuisine is so heavy. She said they typically use a lot more vegetables at home, and serve cool meals in Summer.

We bought some bread,visited the basement enoteca at Gilberti and got recommendations of their wines, bottled condiments and sauces, and got a lesson in cured meats at Simoni. We also went to the butcher's and learned about Italian cuts, and two different cheese shops. We then took a short taxi ride to Maribel's home.

The traditional method of pasta making is to mix right on your board, gradually incorporating flour into the eggs. Nothing more is added to Bolognese pasta. Stir, stir, stir. Gently press and turn until you have a smooth ball, and let the pasta briefly rest.

Then comes the fun part--roll, turn. Roll, turn. Keep at it until you have a large sheet. Then things get even more interesting, as you drape some of the pasta over the edge of the board, roll out in a spreading motion, carefully roll the sheet onto your pin, turn, and lay back out. Repeat, until the pasta is thin--ideally, so thin you can begin to see the board through the pasta. As we were beginners, and with the heat, we did not get that thin before the pasta began to lose its suppleness.

Then roll the pasta, and cut with a big sharp knife. We made tagliatelle, long noodles; and farfalle, butterfly-shapes. Ours were mutant butterflies for sure. Leftover edge scraps got cut for soups.

For our sauces, we made a fresh ricotta-arugula-tomato sauce for the farfalle; and a lemon rind-speck-shallot sauce for the tagliatelle. We also made zucchini blossoms, stuffed with ricotta and parsley. They were briefly sautéed in a bit of butter, instead of being fried. Can I just say how wonderfully delicious everything was when we sat down to eat lunch with some cool dry white wine? Amazing texture of the pasta, and the wonderful freshness of the sauces. I loved the fiore, where you could appreciate the delicacy of the flowers and cheese without a heavy breading. Maribel is fun to talk with and a great teacher; and we greatly enjoyed the morning.

Later that afternoon we visited the churches of San Stefano, beautifully evocative old places. You can almost feel the ghosts here in the ancient center, where a Temple to Isis once stood that gave the place its circular shape.

Salumi and salad for dinner.

We began at the Archaeological Museum, housed in yet another palazzo near Piazza Maggiore. The lower floor starts you off with the Egyptians, a small though nicely presented collection. Afterward, we walked through the lovely courtyard, and up to the Paleoithic exhibits. Here we felt firmly in the 19th century, with acres of glass cases housing brown pot after brown pot, with hundreds of arrowheads thrown in for good measure. The labels are typed, looking to be from the 1950's. After that, you land in the Etruscans, with more cases crammed with jewelry, funeral pots, all manner of brass gizmos, funeral steles, and the occasional skeleton. Lots of interesting little bits and pieces, tiny animal figures, lovely carvings on stone. The Greek rooms had case after case of pottery, many of the cases so badly lit you really can't see what's inside.

The Roman rooms had fascinatingly painted cases and pots, though I made some unscholarly observations about the nude men and clothed women who decorated most of them. Gorgeously delicate animals painted on vases, interesting bronzes, detritus of daily Roman life, and Larry was fascinated by the collection of Roman locks.

We walked through Piazza Maggiore, which as usual during the day was being crisscrossed by trailing tour groups, most of whom were speaking Italian or French. We walked around a bit, finding the base of one of the two towers, which has been turned into a B&B. Which looks extremely cool, unless you're in the room on the 11th floor! the B&B hosts cocktail hour on their top terrace, which we'd consider climbing up to on a cooler evening.

Found a pizzeria I'd seen recommended, Scalinatella on Via Caduti di Cefalonia. It is right next to the base of the tower.We decided to sit inside, where it was considerably cooler and quieter. Our table was right against the wall of the tower, which was fun.
We enjoyed good though not knock-your-socks-off pizzas, and a jug of slightly frizzante house wine. A good choice for a simple meal if you're in the area.

From here we walked over to the Museum of the Middle Ages, housed in, you guessed it, a palazzo. The first small rooms had a collection of "curiosities", things lime carved ostridge eggs and Venetian platform shoes. Lots of strange and fun things to look at. Then room after room of carvings, stained glass, metalwork, textiles. What we found most interesting were the large carved tombstones for famous professors at the University.

The museum's publicity spoke of a new exhibit showcasing their large textile collection, but there was only a teaser room open so far. Worth seeing if only for the exquisite golden-thread lace trim.

As we walked down the street, Larry noticed one of the palazzos had the Genus signs that it was covered by our Bologna card. We stopped into the Palazzo Fava, and learned that upstairs are frescoes. We took the elevator up, and a helpful guide showed us a large terminal where you can view the fresco cycle with English captioning. There are several rooms, with 16th century frescos telling the myths of Jason and the Argonauts, Medea, and Dido. Gorgeous, and worth seeking out.

Went home, soaked the feet, made a nice dinner of tortelloni with sage, butter and parmesan.

We bought some prosciutto and mortadella at a salumeria; and some fresh tortelloni stuffed with ricotta. We then headed down one of the main streets to look for the covered market. Inside was a large collection of fruit and vegetable sellers, cheese shops, butchers, and bakeries. We bought several cheeses, tomatoes, apricots and cherries, herbs, bread, and amazing grissini, crisp breadsticks. We took a meandering walk back home.

Larry walked over to the apartment of the owner of our apartment to giver her the remaining balance. Her husband recognized a fellow old house enthusiast, and invited him in to see the house. They own the whole building, an old Palazzo which he inherited from an aunt. Up several winding staircases was an amazing view over the rooftops to San Luca, the church on the hill overlooking Bologna.

We walked over to Al Sangeivese for lunch. This is a small trattoria on the edge of the Centro, which happens to be around the corner from a simple place we enjoyed years ago, Osteria al 15. I enthusiastically agreed with the owner that it was too hot to sit outside, and I enjoyed the air conditioning as we looked at the menu of traditional Bolognese cooking, and a few interesting specials.

Wine, two glasses of decent sangiovese. We shared an antipasto of a flan of goat cheese with mushrooms. Nice play of the cool flan with warm mushrooms. Next, I had lasagna, which was amazingly delicate considering it had 10 thin layers of pasta, meat, and besciamella. Larry had a special of tagliatelle with asparagus and smoky guanciale. There was no way we could finish this and also eat our shared secondo, so our leftovers were thoughtfully boxed up. (things have changed in Italy!) For our secondo we shared a perfect carpaccio, shaved raw beef with arugula and parmesean, dressed with lemon and olive oil. Fantastic. No room for anything more than espresso. Perfect first lunch in Italy, and a very fair price. I'd definitely go back.

We slowly walked back to the apartment for a brief rest before heading out into the heat of the day. On the way we stopped in the piazza outside San Domenico, where a group of elderly Italian tourists were singing. Scattered around the piazza are sarcophagi with the remains of Medieval lawyers.

We walked down the street to the Museum of the History of Bologna, in the old Palazzo Pepoli.
This is a new museum, filled with artifacts and amusingly over-the-top wacky displays using holographs and special effects.We were offered a tour, and so a lovely young woman took us around for the better part of two hours. We learned some new Italian vocabulary, taught her some new English, and had a blast. It really deepened our understanding of the city. We were just about the only people inside, though I'll bet it's crowded with schoolchildren during the week. The displays are thoroughly explained in Italian, so I would recommend asking for an English-speaking guide unless your Italian is very good.

Walked around a bit more. There was an organization of women doing a charity event in the city this weekend, we saw many women in orange shirts running around doing some sort of scavenger hunt. Larry and his GPS phone were very popular.

We found the first house that had basement waterwheels installed to provide power to the silkweaving machinery upstairs. For a long time, almost half of the people in Bologna were involved in the silk trade. A system of canals and underground streams provided waterpower to the small factories throughout the city.

Home for a dinner of salumi, tomato salad, and wine.

After a one-day interlude in Bologna back in 2005, we have always wanted to return to explore the city in depth. Something about the russet medieval buildings with shaded porticos, laid-back university vibe, and deep sense of time and place had made an impact. We were looking forward to our eight nights here.

I had booked an apartment on via Castiglione, a short walk away from the frenzy of Piazza Maggiore. After an easy series of train rides from Lugano, we met our keyholder (winded from her run across the city, as she had failed to hear there was a bus strike that day).The apartment is comfortable, though the air conditioning in the 85-degree heat was of a more Italian standard than American. Va bene. It's in an old palazzo, where you go through a series of gates and courtyard.

We walked over to Piazza Maggiore, the enormous piazza that is the heart of Bologna, surrounded by Medieval and Renaissance buildings. We found the tourist office, and bought Bologna Welcome cards, which give free admission to many of the city's museums. The cards also entitled us to a freebie city tour, which was leaving in 15 minutes. Certo. Our tour guide gave an overview of the city's history as she sped us around the Piazza, and then through the streets surrounding. This tour is well worth doing for a basic orientation.

One of the highlights was going into the original University building to see the Anatomy classroom; and Larry had a blast in the Basilica of San Petronio with the huge solar calendar. On each sunny day, the solar image would sweep across the church floor and, exactly at noon, cross a long metal rod that was the observatory’s most important and precise part. The noon crossings over the course of a year would reach the line’s extremities – which usually marked the summer and winter solstices, when the Sun is farthest north and south of the Equator. The circuit, among other things, could be used to measure the year’s duration with great precision.

After our tour, we wandered into the small market area, and found a buzzy place to have some wine and a platter of salumi and cheese. We were the oldest people there, and the only ones not speaking Italian. Food and wine for 15 euros, a delicious bargain.

We walked a bit more, then headed down the street from the apartment to La Sorbetina, a gelateria with astonishing flavors. Larry had a rich chocolate with hazelnuts, and I had a fig-ricotta-lemon that was divine. We took our tired feet home.

Two of my favorite people who are yearly guests at our Passover Seder can't eat gluten. This year I wanted to experiment with making gluten-free matzah balls for them. Matzah balls, for anyone not raised on them, are an Eastern European Jewish comfort food, plump dumplings that soak up flavor from the aromatic chicken soup in which they float. Or sink, as the case may be. People are tend to be firmly in either the "floaters" or "sinkers" camp.

They're made from matzah meal (crushed matzahs), eggs, water or broth, oil or chicken fat, and seasonings. A higher proportion of egg tends to give a fluffier result, less a chewier, denser. In looking around for gluten-free recipes I found those based on potato, almond flour, or gluten-free matzahs. All seemed to have mixed reviews--the potato ones too heavy and closer to a German potato dumpling, the almond meal ones also heavy, and the gluten-free matzah meal ones exploding in the cooking water. I saw one based on quinoa flakes that had overwhelmingly positive feedback, and my Goddaughter also sent me that one as she thought it had possibilities.

I sent Larry to Whole Foods with the shopping list. The first phone call was "I can't find quinoa flakes." It hadn't occurred to him to ask a salesperson. *eyeroll* Men. The next phone call was "Do you know how much xantham gum costs?" A small bag was $14.00--and all I needed for the recipe was 1/2 teaspoon! I called my GF friend, and she said the bag she had seemed to have gone bad, with a sour odor. (it is vegetable-based, so I guess it does have a short shelf life.) Fortunately, my GF guests were happy to split the bag with me.

OK, so on to the matzah balls. I based the experiment on this recipe, with some minor changes--I added a tablespoon of broth, melted chicken fat, and some snipped parsley and dill for flavor; I also let them sit longer in the fridge and cooked the balls longer to see if they'd get a bit lighter. http://www.tamaraduker.com/2009/03/not-your-mamas-gluten-free-matzoh-balls/

The result was quite good--the balls held together, and you could only tell they were not made from matzah meal if you looked closely enough to see some quinoa shapes now and then on the surface. The taste was mild, which soaked up the broth flavor from the soup beautifully. The texture was decent, somewhat on the "sinker" side, but nothing a Grandmother would complain about. Success!

Gluten-free Quinoa “Matzoh” Balls

Makes 10-12 quinoa balls

1 cup quinoa flakes (look in the hot cereal aisle of Whole Foods or other store)

1/2 tsp xanthan gum (look in baking supplies at Whole foods)

2 large eggs

1/4 cup melted chicken fat or vegetable oil

1 Tbs. broth or water

1/2 tsp salt

A sprinkle of ground black pepper to your liking

Tablespoon of each chopped parsley and dill

Combine quinoa flakes and xanthan gum in a small bowl.
In a separate bowl, beat the two eggs. Add oil, broth, herbs, salt and pepper and beat again until combined.
Add the wet ingredients to the dry, mix well until combined. Cover and refrigerate for at least 60 minutes.
Bring a large pot of water to a boil. (You don’t want the matzoh balls to be crowded).
Remove batter from refrigerator and wet hands. With wet hands, fashion a SMALL amount of batter into a smooth ball shape and drop into the boiling water. ( Each uncooked ball should be no larger than the size of a ping-pong ball… they will expand when cooking, and if they’re too big, the middle may not cook through sufficiently.)
Cover pot and cook the quinoa balls, maintaining a rolling boil, cook 45 minutes.
Remove the balls from boiling water with a slotted spoon and let sit to cool for a few minutes. Then, refrigerate the balls until ready to serve.
Before serving, place quinoa balls in pot of soup to warm them through.

Early Wednesday morning we took the train to Swindon (which I can never say without hearing Eric Idle's voice in my head), then changed trains to arrive in Stroud. And a word about buying tickets on Britain's trains--the pricing, it's wonky as Hell. You go on the official site for whichever train system you're riding , and the prices are all over the place, depending not only on what time of day you're traveling, but when you're buying the ticket. It feels like buying airline tickets, trying to judge when the prices will fall or rise. And you can also go through independent sites like Seat61 or Thetrainonline, which sometimes offer cheaper rates, and sometimes bounce you back to the Virgin site. Crazymaking.

Anyway, we headed out to spend the day with old friends Pauline and Steve, and see Jonathan and Phillipa for lunch. Pauline picked us up from the station, and mercifully the mists of the morning were starting to clear. We first visited the adorable cottage they're renting, in an old renovated mill besides a stream outside the village of Painswick. The village is tiny and beautiful, with mellow stone buildings, a "New" street from 1426, the oldest building in England to have a post office, an evocative old church and graveyard, and even 17th century stocks. http://painswick.co.uk/

We took a lovely walk through the 18th century Rococo Gardens, which is famous for its snowdrops, which were conveniently in bloom. Pretty views over the hills, long sweeps of snowdrops, cute old fanciful mini buildings, a hedgemaze where we got lost. http://www.rococogarden.org.uk/Home/tabid/103/Default.aspx

I'd noticed when we were being driven around Liverpool earlier in the week that I found the motion of cars on the left side of the road a bit unsettling. Even when walking in London the "wrongness" of traffic coming from the opposite side was hard to get used to--Larry had to constantly caution me to "Look Right" when crossing streets.And in the back of a car, hurtling on the left side of narrow country lanes, when it seemed as if we'd smash into an oncoming car that had to edge over..ugh. Definitely something for me to adjust to.

Anyway, we drove over to the pub where we met Jonathan and Phillippa, and all had a wonderful lunch together. The Woolpack is a cozy, informal place with good cooking. http://www.thewoolpackinn-slad.com/ I kept meaning to hand my camera to the waitress so she could take our photo together, but forgot.

After saying goodbye to J&P, we drove through some of the towns in the area, and across the Commons, traditional large grassy areas where cattle are still let out to roam during the Summer. The area is also marked by the remains of iron age forts and embankments. Pauline and Steven enjoy the many walking paths, which crisscross the area and go through private land as well as public. We walked through a tiny village, exchanging pleasantries with a woman out tending her gorgeous garden.

We stopped at Selsley All Saints Church, with an interior and windows designed by William Morris. http://allsaintsselsley.org.uk/

Then a cream tea in the adorable old wool village of Minchinhampton, at the Kitchen. http://www.cotswolds.info/places/minchinhampton.shtml

Train back to London, and to bed. We enjoyed our brief visit, and would love to further explore the area another time.

Tuesday morning we joined one of the London Walks, this one called "Secret London." http://www.walks.com/

We were met by the tour guide Rex, who led us and about 15 other bundled-up people in and out of the Holburn area. We began in Staple Inn, which in the 16th century was where wool was weighed and taxed. It is one of the few buildings that survived the Great Fire, although has been extensively rebuilt, especially after being bombed in WW2. The timbered facade leads into a brick courtyard, the buildings of which has been used as one of the Inns of Chancery, and are now an actuary's institute.

Rex led us into the courtyard of an ornate red brick late Victorian Gothic building, Holburn Bars, where Dickens had lived on the site of an earlier building. The present structure was built by Prudential Insurance in a time when women were beginning to work in offices--it had extra stairways so women wouldn't need to go up with a man behind her! We followed Rex through a tiny passageway to Ye Olde Mitre in Ely Place, built in 1546 when it was still the bishop of Ely's land. Then on to the oldest Catholic church in London, St. Etheldreda's (which of course was turned into a Church of England church during Henry VIII's reign) and St. Andrew's reconstructed by Christopher Wren. Love the statues of children who were educated by a school for poor children nearby. (and according to Rex, the material used is still trying to be replicated today)

We also found Dr. Johnson's house, St. Bride's church, a 19th century bathhouse, more early buildings among the modern glass and steel. All along the walk we were treated to stories about the people who lived in the area through the centuries, a lot of history, a bit of historical illustration, and a lot of fun. We enjoyed the walk, and would recommend it.

Rex suggested the Cheshire Cheese Pub nearby for lunch. It' was rebuilt in 1667, and full of atmosphere. There's a little pub area down a twisty staircase, or the small upstairs dining room. We opted for a booth in the dining room, and had an excellent lunch--fish and chips for me, sausages and mash for Larry. And a pint. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ye_Olde_Cheshire_Cheese

Afterward, we visited Dr. Johnson's house, which has been restored to its 18th century detail. The rooms have documents and artwork related to Dr. Johnson's life, the dictionary he's chiefly famous for, and his friend Boswell who chronicled his wit and life. http://www.drjohnsonshouse.org/

My feet gave out at that point, so returned to the flat for a lazy evening and some disappointing Indian take-away. Avoid Malabar in Notting Hill (Larry says it wasn't bad, but I thought it greasy and bland)

We decided to have a lazy morning, and took the bus over to Chelsea. Just walked around, enjoying the peeks at the lives of the investment bankers and trust-fund babies in the neighborhood. Beautifully manicured homes from different building eras, private gardens you can glimpse through wrought iron gates, ridiculously priced shops.

Shared a meze platter for lunch at a crowded Middle-Eastern cafe, quite good. Al-Dar, 74 Kings Road.

We popped back into the V&A, enjoyed the new Furniture Galleries.

We had tickets to see Helen Mirren in her new play The Audience. The Leicester Square area was buzzing at twilight.

After picking up our tickets, we wandered up through SoHo to a swanky dim sum restaurant, Yuancha, for dinner. Amusingly, we walked up what seemed to be the main street for SoHo's strip clubs--whose entrances looked somehow classier than their counterparts in New York or Boston. The restaurant was very sleek, with a menu of contemporary dim sum. The prices were high, but they have a good value early dinner set menu, which is what we went for. Lots of great little tastes that expanded on our usual chinatown tea house repertoire. Very good, and we'd definitely return. http://www.yauatcha.com/

The play was unexpectedly humorous, filled with light and sharp barbs as Queen Elizabeth met through the years with her Prime Ministers. Some of the references were beyond our knowledge of British politics and current events. And sadly, the gentleman who played Churchill needed occasional prompting off-stage for his lines. But Mirren was wonderful, the other actors as well, and we enjoyed the evening in the small theater.

Saturday morning we headed out early, walking down Portobello Road into the market. First blocks of cute pastel-colored houses then an explosion into antique shops and stands. From card tables on the street holding old telephones, to what looks at first like a one-room shop which gives on to a warren of tiny one-desk antique dealers each specializing in something--jewelry, furs, tools, chandeliers, ceramics, buttons, watches, lace...I was in heaven. After a few block of that is a street with food vendors, produce, baker's carts, and then past the flyover used clothes, then some really wacky things.

I violated my first rule of markets--"If something appeals to you, strike a deal then because you'll never find it later." So much for a filigree pin I liked, when turning back up the street I couldn't find that vendor again. I did thumb through antique laces for a while, so much more variety and better priced that what I've seen at Brimfield and our antique markets. I settled on a silk maltese lace collar, which I'll sew onto a sweater.

By 11:30 the crowds were horrible, swarms of Italian-French, and Japanese tourists pouring down the street. I was very glad we began at 9:30. We fought through the crowds in the opposite direction back to the flat, and had lunch of the vegetable tarts and tomatoes we had bought.

We were taking a late afternoon train to Liverpool to see Larry's relatives, so a visit to the British Library a few blocks down from Euston Station seemed logical. We took the bus through the throngs of shoppers on Oxford Street.

There's a "Treasures of the British Library" exhibit which we loved. The display is divided into types of printed material--literature, music, religious, science, maps. I especially loved the Literature section, with Beowulf, Piers Plowman, Shakespeare's First Folio, Jane Austen's notebooks. Lots of beautifully illuminated manuscripts, including the Catalonia Hagaddah. Understandably, no photos allowed. There was also a fun special exhibit on the crime novel.

We caught our train, after some amusing last-minute racing to the new track five minutes before departure. In Liverpool we were picked up my Larry's cousins, and had a fun time in a large Chinese restaurant renewing acquaintances. Larry's father and his siblings had been sent from Germany by their parents in the late 30's on the Kindertransport, which rescued Jewish children from Germany. Of the 5 children, only one, Kaye, remained in England. In 1948 she boarded an illegal ship for Palestine, spent a few months in a resettlement camp, and then lived on an early kibbutz. She and her husband Norman raised their children in Israel, and later returned to Liverpool.

The next day we had a whirlwind tour of Liverpool, which has the largest number of Eduardian and Victorian buildings out of London, and some very charming residential areas. The city is climbing out of it's gritty past, with a new riverfront development and renewed commercial enterprises. And of course, we had to see the Beatles sites--John McCartney's childhood home, Abby Road, where John met Paul, the Cavern club where they played.

Friday morning we took the Tube over toward Borough Market, walking over the Millennium Bridge on the way. Blue skies, mild breeze. The Market was just getting going at 10:30, and we wandered around enjoying the absence of crowds. There are wonderful food producers here, and I so wish I could convey the aromas as we walked by stalls--roasting chorizo and ducks, truffles under glass that when lifted sent wafts of truffle nearby, enormous wheels of aged cheese, meat pies fresh from the oven, huge paellas beginning to simmer in their pans.

We bought two sandwiches to split for lunch. One was my Borough Mecca--the toasted cheese and leeks sandwich from Kappacasein Cheeses. The other was a lamb sausage on a roll with sautéed vegetables, harissa and a zippy cilantro sauce. The market was beginning to get crowded, so we found a bench along the Embankment and enjoyed lunch while watching the gaggles of kids on school trips parade by on their way to or from the Globe Theatre. We went to the Globe and also nearby Southwark Cathedral on our last trip, so decided to not go today.

We had discovered that the bank notes we had leftover from our last London trip were no longer accepted, so had to go to the Bank of England to exchange them. Back across the bridge, and wandered past St. Paul's and into The City. From the Bank, we walked around a bit more, found remains of the Roman Wall, before landing at the Museum of London. This is a large museum devoted to the history of the city, with lots of artifacts spanning the Neolithic age to present day. Interesting, though tiring visit. Filled in a lot of gaps in our understanding of London.

While resting with some tea in the café, we found a few bus routes to get us back to Notting Hill. The V&A was open late on Fridays, so we decided to do a short visit there, knowing from past experiences that it's a place to best break off into smaller portions. We caught a bus heading toward The Strand, then Whitehall, then into Chelsea. Love sitting on the top of a London bus as it winds through the streets at sunset.

At the V&A we spent the bulk of our time on the third floor, getting immersed in ironwork, silver, and enamelwork. We were dropping and hungry at that point, so headed to the next bus home. Found a nice dinner at Amici's restaurant near Notting Hill Gate, an oasis in the middle of fast food. Family-run, competent food, enjoyable mussels and pastas.

Exactly 230 days ago, I managed to snag two frequent-flyer tickets to London. I even took two days off from work to extend our time over the February school vacation week. Larry and I had only been to London once before, and wanted more time to explore the city.

We landed on time, and took the Heathrow Connect to Paddington station. The Connect is considerably cheaper than the Express, and only takes 10 minutes more. Downside is that it only runs every half hour, so some bench time is inevitable. Once we dragged our bags off the train at Paddington, we headed to the entrance to the Underground. With about 100 other people, who formed a long, patient queue. The entrance was blocked, and officials would only let a small group of people on a time. I was astonished by how patiently and resignedly people were waiting--if this were New York, there would have been a riot. We waited, and waited more, drooping with fatigue and travel buzz. Finally we looked at each other, said "cab" and edged our way to the side to escape. Best 6 pounds I ever spent.

Our apartment is near Notting Hill Gate. It's spacious, funky, comfortable, and a bargain. The owners only rent it when they're traveling, but luckily they were headed to Mexico this week.
We headed out for a walk. The area is filled with blocks of white terraced houses, and the occasional ugly 20th-century interloper. We skirted Portabello Road, past a block of used clothing shops. This area will be teeming with stalls on Saturday, I can't wait. We wandered Notting Hill, past many uber-expensive boutiques, trendy cafes, and more-fashionable-than-I women in the uniform of leggings, high heeled boots, cashmere coats, huge cowl, and cellphones. At least I had a chunky cowl so I could almost pass as the country cousin.

Lunch was at the very nice bistro Cote with a well-priced lunch menu. Lentil salad followed by spinach crepes for me, salmon rilletes then steak frites for Larry. More walking, and we stopped into Ottolenghi's. I've loved his food for the use of vegetables, bright flavors, and unexpected textural contrast, and own two of his cookbooks. We got some takeout, which was gorgeous, tasty, and made Whole Foods look inexpensive.

On the way back to the apartment we ducked into Jaimie Oliver's cooking school, a fun-looking place where couples were sipping drinks while they prepped Valentine's Day meals together. Oh yeah, it's Valentine's Day! We bought a bottle of champagne and some desserts from the bakery on the corner.

We then walked in the opposite direction, down Kensington Church St toward Kensington High Road. Lots of antique shops along the road, and more of what I'd already seen several of--an old traditional pub now serving Thai food. Huh? Picked up some essentials at Whole Foods, and walked back up to the apartment.

Champagne, dinner, some discussion of plans for the week, and to bed.