Rudders at Home

When I got married, my mother told me that sometimes I might have to make sacrifices. I don’t like rhubarb. But Paul does. So what’s a girl to do? Compromise, I guess, and that’s where a strawberry rhubarb pie comes into the picture.

Okay, my mom never really talked to me about marriage and compromise until I was about five and a half years in to my marriage. Yes, that’s just about a week or so ago. I think before I got married she obviously thought that my moving half way across the world to live in a strange country made it clear that sacrifices might have to be made in this relationship. So, instead of hearing this motherly advice at the beginning of my marriage, my mother decided to impart this wisdom on to me one night recently when I was discussing the fact that Paul kept bugging me to make rhubarb crumble.

So, sacrifice and compromise? I never thought that would mean that I would find myself making a rhubarb and strawberry pie. Space in my house, certain foods, lots of laundry – sure, I was ready for all sorts. But I never really thought I’d end up having to make anything out of rhubarb. But I have. I made a strawberry rhubarb pie. I thought, I like strawberries, Paul like rhubarb, we both like pie… Strawberry rhubarb pie!! That’s a pretty good compromise!

And it was good. I didn’t think I’d eat any of it, but just look!

How could I resist that? And guess what – I loved it! It got great reviews – Paul has said that it is as good as it looks there. Considering it contains both of his favorite things – rhubarb and strawberries – he should be pretty happy. I would make this again in a heartbeat.

With this pie I also made my first lattice top. That wasn’t nearly as hard as I initially thought it was going to be. The whole crust came together for me really well this time. Usually I struggle just a bit trying to bring it together to roll out, but this time it was perfect! I can’t resist giving you another picture, I’m so happy with it!

I bet you’re wondering if I’m still getting asked for rhubarb crumble. Yes, in fact, I am.

So, while this was a pretty good compromise and we both enjoyed the results, it just simply wasn’t enough. Paul has again started asking for rhubarb crumble. I just might have to break down and make it for him some day. Talk about sacrifices!

For the recipe, you need one doublecrust pie crust for a 9 inch pie pan, then strawberries and rhubarb to fill the pie.

Then take 1 1/2 cups sugar, 1/4 cup flour, 1/4 tsp nutmeg and 3 eggs. Mix everything together, with the rhubarb and strawberries. Fill the pie, and do up the crust top. Then put it in a 400 degree oven for 50-60 minutes. And there you have it! Gorgeous!

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Last Tuesday, I went to the Punch Tavern with a few friends for one of the wine tastings that they do. I’ve gone before, to a champagne tasting there, and it was good fun.

The tastings they do at the Punch Tavern are quite informal, which is good for a novice like me. They have a guy come in from OddBins, which is a wine shop here in the UK, to do the tasting. He brings in a selection of wines and walks you through the tasting. You get 8 wines to taste through the course of the evening, and the evening costs £12.50, without dinner. The cost with dinner is £20.00. I’ve never had the buffet, but I have to say it smells pretty good.

About the tasting itself, you first get talked through smelling the wine. You’re free, and indeed encouraged, to volunteer what it is you smell. After you’ve smelled the wine, you then get talked through how to properly taste it. Once you’ve tasted the wine, again it’s a bit of a free for all. You’re encouraged to speak up and say what different tastes come out of the wine. It’s ok, though, because for people like me, who don’t normally speak up in crowds, you can easily discuss it with the person next to you and learn a lot from what everyone else is bringing forward. As the evening goes on, I find that it’s a lot easier to join in with everyone else.

Also, at the beginning of the evening, you’re given a sheet of paper with all the types of wine that you taste listed. There’s space there to take notes, and after tasting and talking through each wine, we guess the percentage of alcohol and the price, which can sometimes be quite surprising. You also will learn quite a bit about the wine making process, as the guy who does the tasting is quite educated in the wine you’re tasting.

These tastings are quite a good and simple way to learn more about wine. It seems to be a usual crowd that goes, because people seem to recognize each and they also seem to have a good rapport with guy in charge of everything. This makes it less intimidating to someone who just enjoys an occasional glass of wine and would like to just broaden their horizons a bit. This is the second tasting I’ve gone to there, and I definitely hope to be able to go to a few more.

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The boys in my wedding wore kilts. And I loved it. Particularly the boy on the left. Since then, I’ve been trying to get Paul back into a kilt every chance I get.

Believe it or not, it happens more often than you would think.

Each time we need a kilt, we have to rent one. Unfortunately we’ve found that renting a kilt down here in London can be a bit awkward and complicated. Wait a minute, I bet you’re thinking – rent a kilt? Didn’t he come with one? No, no, they’re not built in, and that’s exactly what I thought when the first black tie do came around. I soon discovered that’s not how it worked at all.

Problems that arise from renting are numerous. Besides the obvious fact that everyone and their brother has worn the kilt before you, there’s the crucial bit that you might not be able to find the correct tartan. Apart from that there are other things, such as the quality of the accoutrements. The sporran may be a bit low quality, the shoes may not fit well, the coat may be a bit worn, there are kilt hose to think about as well and to top it off, the person fitting you may not know the proper way and you could end up with a kilt way too short!

I’ve also found good reason to believe that a black tie event is not required in order to wear a kilt. One could happily wear one to a ceilidh, or a wedding, or anytime you might want to look smarter than average. (That’s better looking than average, not more intelligent!)

This has brought me (and Paul) to the conclusion that it would simply be best to invest in a kilt of his own. Not only would it be nice to have things on hand here in London, but when we eventually move to the States, I have a feeling we won’t be able to rent a kilt at the drop of a hat.

And so, my kilt project was born.

Buying a kilt isn’t as straightforward as you may think, especially when you live in London and the man wearing the kilt tends to be a bit snobby about some things. There are tons of things that go into it, and these items will vary depending on what ocaission you’re dressing for.

There are:

• The Kilt (obviously)
• The Kilt Hose (socks)
• The belt and belt buckle (to keep the thing up!)
• The sgian dubh or skean dhu, or skeen dhu or knife, or whatever you want to call it. (in case you want a snack, or need to defend your honor!)
• The sporran (to keep you bits and bobs in)
• The brogues (the shoes)
• The kilt pin (to make sure the kilt doesn’t fly open! – I saw a guy lose his mid-dance at a ceilidh once – oh boy!)
• The flashes  (to keep those hose up!)
• The stuff for on top: shirt and tie, jacket, and vest/waistcoat

Now that’s a lot of stuff!

The plan is to get things gradually, one at a time, simply because things can be expensive, and Paul can be a bit picky about where we get them. We will mostly only be buying items in Scotland, so we have to be patient about actually acquiring these things.

As we start to invest in things, I’ll then blog about them. I’m strangely proud of the idea of Paul and his kilt, and I think it will be quite an interesting experience. There’s a lot for me to learn. Also, as you can see, there’s quite a bit that goes into traditional Scottish dress like this, and I thought this would be a good place to record the 21st century version of the process. Not to mention the fact that if we’re doing it, it’s guaranteed to be an experience!

So, don’t hold your breath, as things may move slowly, but please enjoy the posts that come under this subject in the future.

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Lured by the thought of £8 shoes (!), I stopped in on the Next sale last Friday afternoon on my way home from work. Next is a clothing store which sells numerous clothing items for everyone in the family, but I’m most familiar with the work wear. For those at home, perhaps think JC Penney’s, but on a smaller scale and definitely focused more towards trends – Sorry Mom, but you wouldn’t find anything to wear at Next!

The Next sales are quite famous, in my book for being chaotic. They only do sales certain times of the year, and you’ll never find a sale rack, unless it’s sale time. At that point, the whole store is on sale – generally there won’t be any new stock during these times. Their plan is to get rid of as much as possible, and then bring in the new lines.

The idea of the sale is tempting. I mean, who doesn’t want to get a new suit or another item of clothing for half price? If it only were as easy at that! To give you some bit of an idea, I last went to a sale at Next when I lived in the Wimbledon area – three + years ago now. I did not have a good experience. It was the first time I had ever been truly pushed out of the way by a woman who wanted to root through a pile of clothing I was standing near. I stepped back and promptly ran into someone else who was trying to get through me to the rack in front of me. At that point, I decided I had had enough and swiftly left the store. Part of me thought maybe it was because I had never been a big city dweller before, but seeing subsequent Next sales even from a distance convinced me this wasn’t the case. Where I came from, you didn’t push and shove people out of the way – even when shopping the day after Christmas or Thanksgiving!

So, when my friend told me that the Next near our work wasn’t nearly as crazy as the sales get on Oxford Street, I was tempted. I can always use new work clothes and thought maybe I might find a new shirt, or even like her, lucky girl, new shoes. So, believing her blindly, I tried my luck.

Sadly, I really shouldn’t have bothered. It wasn’t as bad as the Wimbledon shop – no one was pushing, but it wasn’t great, either. It was the end of the day, and the place was a mess.  If you didn’t know better, you would have thought the store was closing and therefore having a clearance sale. There were clothes everywhere – on the floor, hanging off hangers, on top of racks and piled in places. Even if I knew what I was looking for, I would have had trouble spotting it. It was a bit of a mess, and rather overwhelming. Still optimistic (no one was fighting me for space!), I made my way to the back of the store to have a look at what shoes might be around.

I simply don’t know how my friend found her shoes. When I had a look, there were just piles and piles of shoes in absolutely no order, just thrown around on shelves. I didn’t even really see that there were pairs together. I had these visions of trying on one, and then crawling around on the floor hunting for the other pair – as if you were getting them out of a very crowded and messy closet. Having no desire to root around, I made my way quickly back out of the store and headed back down towards the train station.

The short of it is, the Next sale would be ok, but you need to get there before anyone else, and I think you also need to know what you want. And, in some instances, you have to be prepared to push back.

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We took a country drive today and ended up at Chartwell, which isn’t too far from us. Chartwell was Winston Churchill’s family home. He bought it in 1922 and it now is being taken care of by the National Trust. It’s just down the road from us and we’ve been meaning to get there to have a look since we got the car last year.

There are two main bits to see when you go – the house and the garden. The gardens were definitely the highlight. The house was ok, but not fabulous. Perhaps it was because it was really busy that I was put off a bit. Entry is by timed ticket, which means you have a fifteen minute window to get into the house. Then you can stay in as long as you want – and boy were people sticking around. Getting in wasn’t the problem, it was moving around once you were in. People just were not moving along. Slow shuffle was definitely the speed of the day. There wasn’t much in the way of “house” to see inside, there were a couple dressed rooms, but then the rest was set up as a sort of museum to Churchill. I might have been more appreciative of it had there not been so many people. I thought the gardens were much better.

The amount of space and land was what struck you as you drove in to the place. That was what I liked about Knole Park as well. But not only did Chartwell have space, it was also beautifully landscaped, with other smaller garden areas throughout. My favorite bit was Lady Churchill’s Rose Garden. Not to mention the swimming pool, which is one of the first things you see as you walk into the property.

As big as the space was, it did seem rather homely. It wasn’t nearly as ostentatious as you would think. In fact, the interior was quite humble, and one of the gardens actually had – gasp! – vegetables in it! That was nice to see, considering I haven’t seen a proper growing garden in long long time.

I enjoyed it. If only there weren’t so many people!

Some more pictures from the gardens:

There are further pictures in the gallery.

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