On the Town: Princi

Exiting the tube station at Piccadilly Circus doing my best to manage the hordes of tourists drawn to the bright flashing lights on a busy Saturday night, I had my sites set on Chinatown. It was clear in my mind that after perusing the choices of different Asian cuisines, I would do some exploring on foot while I made up my mind which restaurant tickled my fancy. Knowing me, I would most likely land at a dodgey looking Vietnamese place, order some Pho and/or spicy noodle dish, then polish off a red bean bun from a street vendor on my way back to the tube. My night, however, went in a decidedly different direction.

Given the choice my palate tends to direct me towards things Japanese, Vietnamese, or curries. These flavors are both my favorite and those I am the most experienced with. In turn I tend to have certain expectations in the flavor and how I judge the quality of a dish compared to one I have had previously elsewhere. This being said, I enjoy nearly every type of cuisine from around the world when done correctly but have a less refined palate for other national styles. Italian is one of them. An al dente risotto, light Neapolitan pizza, or tangy pasta primavera are all truly delicious dishes, but they would have to be seriously impressive to lure me away from the aromas coming from the Asian district. Princi managed this feat.

Looking through the windows at the crowds of people, walking in the door and witnessing the spread that lay before: it was all over. What drew me in was a number of subtle signs that usually lead to good food. I tried not to gape at the thirty-odd feet of clear glass that separated me from dozens on choices ranging from pistachio custards to brick over pizzas (more on that later) and stewing eggplant. This isn't mentioning the other half of the items that I couldn't even identify, further demonstrating my partial ignorance of Italian fair. Conflicted with so many choices available and being notoriously indecisive when it comes to situations like this with numerous options at hand (usually a long process of narrowing down the contenders, since I want everything), I quickly decided on a compromise: one thing safe, one thing new.

After only a few minutes of 'window shopping,' a server stopped by my part of the counter. Leaning in, I pointed down and asked, "what's this?" I didn't understand most of what she said partially due to the chatter from the numerous customers (standing room only) and partially to her noticeable Italian accent. Both of these facts are a sign of good things to come. Regardless of her exact response to my query, I simply said, "I'll take one." After plating one of the tomato-topped rolls, we proceeded down the counter for my second selection. "Some of this as well," I said pointing to one of the assorted sides. Two plates: £4.60. After queuing a few minutes to get a table to stand at, I dove into the first of my two selections.

Called 'greche,' it was a simple seasoned dough littered with green olives throughout, topped with sliced tomatoes then baked in wood oven (another plus). On appearances, one would expect the lack of more fillings to leave the dish bland and dry. It was neither. The olive-only filling stood on its own while the dough was moist on the inside and still had the charred bread crust, most likely thanks to the oven. I wanted more tomatoes but that is just my personal taste. My second dish was my safe selection. Side salad of marinated ham, olives, tomatoes, artichokes, mushrooms, and cheese. One look and you know it is gonna be good. Salty ham chunks surrounded by the umami of the mushrooms, and even more salty olives. Specifically what cheese was used is unclear, but the tender bite paired well with the pork as well as the tomatoes. Apart from the two liters of water I needed to dilute all the sodium I had just consumed, the wood oven, Italian staff, packed tables, and simple presentation all delivered on the promise they had made to me when they first caught my eye: this food will be good. Needless to say Princi merits numerous future visits where I can spend more time on properly interrogating more of their selections and hopefully broadening my Italian palate.

The Odd Bits

Lets be honest, England is not all that different from the US when you get down to it. Obviously it has its own unique mix of people and culture, but in the broader sense they are justifiably similar and for good reason. I mean we did start out as colonies in the new world with most of the settlers (or in the case of Georgia, convicts) coming from the United Kingdom. And admittedly we did diverge on a few minor issues such as stamps, acts with regard to imported teas, and rights of local governing agencies which lead to a series of small disagreements some years back; but the important part is that everyone eventually moved on and the two nations have been the closest of friends for a good while now. Tea under the boat-I mean water under the bridge, as they say. The point is it's not comparable to, for instance, landing in China for the first time where one more than likely only kind-of speaks the language and where many of the social norms and habits are noticeably alien to someone from the US (or even the western world). America and the UK generally share many political and economic ideals as well as a similar history and, well, a language. Therefore most of what one encounters on their inaugural trip to England is either familiar or is expected. Few would be surprised to hear British accents, see everyone driving on the left, and smell fried fish and chips. Still, I have found a number of minor oddities that are either peculiar, unexpected, or I find are still giving me trouble. I felt pretty well prepared for assimilation into the British way of carrying on, but here are a few notables that caught me a bit.

1) Duvets: I wasn't entirely sure what these 'duvet' things were that my sister and mother kept going on about, but now I know. They make sense I suppose, but can I have a blanket in some form that covers the top of the bed AND hangs off the sides a bit? All the comforters I have seen run at least 80-100 pounds and are mostly there only for appearances sake. Can I have something to keep all of me warm at night and not just half my body? No blankets or anything, not even a quilt?

2) Quality Cars: I have seen my fair share of fine motor vehicles in the US as pretty much every make is available state-side. Still, the proportion of high end to middle-range/economy cars is relatively low. London I have noticed has a markedly more pronounced divide between the volume of super premium models in relation to budget cars. Fewer cars fall in between these two extremes, but most of those are still quality BMW/Mercedes/Audi's by American standards. It appears that a London resident can either barely afford the luxury of driving and thus has a two door hatchback or can obviously afford the high costs and taxes, so why not drive a $150k Porsche? Maybe I would be less tardy if I could stop from tripping over Ferrari's on my way to the tube.

3) Left Side Driving: I know what I said earlier, and it's true. No one is surprised to see everyone traveling on the opposite side of the road then the rest of the world. What is challenging about traffic in London is training yourself to look the correct direction before crossing the road, usually to the right. Also, slightly different traffic patterns coupled with narrow streets can make things dicey. Not to mention the highly skilled, fast moving and reacting dynamic of expensive cars, buses, and cyclists that only barely avoid colliding with one another. Still not sure if I am more worried or impressed by all of it.

4) Functional Public Transport: I have a new found appreciation. My previous experiences with the 'buses' in Charleston, eh. They occasionally could take you from where you are to somewhere you wanted to go, but plan your whole day around the trip and expect to wait. The DC subway is for the most part very clean and effective about getting you around town for not too much money, but some of the trains do run into each other on occasion. Apart from that, the trains come relatively frequently and only sometimes are overburdened at heavy traffic times. Then there is the DC bus system which, lets be honest, is really only there for appearances. The engines break down and cause traffic, it takes bizarre and undesired routes, and the actual bus 'schedule' is complete farce. Shift gears to the London underground which operates in the same intelligent fashion as DC, however faster and more efficiently. It efficiently operates more numerous trains more frequently even with far more stations and people. Even the escalators are faster! (and not broken down and rendered into stairs, like in DC) And how the overground manages to circulate the volume of buses with the volume of people in the city without hitting anyone is commendable. I am surprised to say that I personally wouldn't even want a car in the city unless I was one of the people who could afford the afore mentioned Aston Martins and Ferrari's that litter the streets.

5) Coinage: In the US, the average person walks around with less than $1.50 in change in their pocket if they are carrying physical money at all since so many have gone totally plastic. A few quarters perhaps accompanied by the remnants of the fiver used to buy coffee and the resulting handful of unwanted penny's and nickels. Americans tend not to like coins and not use them outside of quarters. Last week I realized there was about ten pounds of coinage in my pocket, speaking both physically and monetarily. One and two pound coins, non existent in the states, are rather useful. The 2p coin which initially seemed silly and pointless turns out is great as tax is included in prices causing it in many situations to be easier to pay with 2p coins compared to 1p coins. Becoming accustomed to paying exclusively in coins is quite foreign to an American, but in a good way.

6) Unit Conversions: A science teacher way back in elementary school turned me on to the benefits of the metric system and I have been a fan ever since. For most of my life while doing math and science I have made a conscious effort to use the metric system whenever possible and keep up with conversions and the like. Turns out converting lengths, distances, and weights are pretty easy on the fly with a bit of practice. After two weeks of cooking, however, the nutritional facts on food packaging and the fact that most everything is measured in grams and liters still bother me. 5 degrees Celsius=41 degrees Fahrenheit, no problem. Why is this pack of tuna 126 grams?

7) Name Confusion: It's football, not soccer (which I tend to agree with, the English did invent the sport so we should call it by the correct name). Biscuits, not cookies. Many of these little translation issues I was aware of before and understand for the most part what people say. Many foods and produce are here reffed to in a different way which can cause inconsistencies if you are asking the location of biscuits at the market or ordering something from a restaurant. For example, there are no eggplants, only aubergines. Luckily enough, most produce is called buy it's default name in French, which is easy for students of French or anyone who is involved in the culinary world. Next time I'll remember to ask for the tin opener, not the can opener.

8) Technology: It surrounds you every day and we all take it for granted. My first lecture on the semester was on the increased globalization of international business over the past 20 years. Step back and consider that trans Atlantic flights were a serious bother and consisted of no fewer then 6 refueling stops between London and Chicago. International calls barely existed until the 80's. Ten years ago cell phones were heavy and could only call, text, and maybe support tetris (in black and white, of course). Here in 2010 I feel incomplete since leaving my full keyboard phone in the states and reverting back to a similar model to those of the late 90's. At the same time, it is abnormal for there to be any sort of chop or delay in the feed while I video chat with my family back in the US. I have a new found respect for how far we have come in such little time and how well we all have it. I challenge anyone to go a day without using their phone or the internet.

The UK Transition

So here I am across the pond for the first time at somewhat of a loss for what exactly to expect. Truth be told, the first few days went considerably smoother than I had imagined. I got no sleep on the flight over (as expected) which was NOT delayed despite recent terror threats as well as the altogether unsurprising snow flurries that whipped through Copenhagen around the time of my connecting flight. Even going through customs and my route from Heathrowe to the hotel seemed to plan itself as if I had commuted in London before. For the most part things are peachy: great people, lovely atmosphere, and I even like my room despite not having a tv and regressing back to a bed the size of a large shoe. Enrollment and course registrations played out as many would expect who have gone through the process before: a small tree's worth of forms and sheets, redundant meetings, meaningless errors due to lack of interdepartmental communication, and hours of queuing (it is London after all). In all, the first week of settling in went by so surprisingly smooth and comfortable I am left with a bit of a sense of unease about the whole situation. This ominous feeling stems from the undeniable fact that nothing truly went wrong. Not horribly wrong, not somewhat unsettling, not even marginally wobbly. Nothing. After years of experiences when it is generally understood and even expected that whenever this many people and agents are involved in a coordinated effort, in this case getting myself and scores of other students enrolled in the university and settled in, that something inevitably will falter and cause headaches. But not this time (yet...).

So rather than spending my time cleaning up some form of clerical error, I have a measurable sense of calm that I am sure is disproportionate to the amount of work that went into finalizing all of the logistics of my transfer. Even as I navigate around much of London town for the first time untested in the European life style, I can't suppress the feeling that I have been here before, that the city was expecting me, that I almost could belong here. Even the unprecedented snow makes me feel reminiscent. But I get ahead of myself. This is not a claim that I conquered London in a single week, but that one expects the first few days to be either hectic or a week long endorphin high due to the novelty of the situation. My week in contrast has been pleasant and relaxed like visiting an old friend except for one major frustration that will continue to be an issue everyday until a solution can be found: what to eat for dinner.

Don't get me wrong, the food and restaurants around London are great and will constitute their own specific consideration and exploration in due time. The issue here is simply monetary in that I still operate on a college budget and can not afford to drop five pound a night on dinner. It adds up quick. The simple solution is to carry on preparing my own dinner as I have been for quite some time, but then there's the rub. I had spent the past few years slowly building up a respectable collection of kitchen tools and cookware which are now sorely missed sitting alone and unused back in the states. It's not like I could pack my cast iron skillet or my spice rack, so it all had to remain behind. Similarly I can not justify buying everything anew when it will end up staying here when my term is up in a few months. The solution it seems is a 'band aid' fix: beg, borrow, and deal to fill in the blanks. Even with some help from a few friends who lend/share some of their hardware with me, there were still some essentials that had to be purchased as they are items that any cook can not do without. Basic pantry items, a utility knife, 16cm saucepan, wooden spoon, and a coffee press.

So it's back to basics, again. Armed with a limited supply of the bare essentials and a shared kitchen, I must recommit to stretching every dollar, or pound rather, without expanding my waist line. And so help me there will be flavor, there will be curry, and there will be ale on cask.