We have migrated to the Netherlands! We had to get up fairly early and head to the Edinburgh airport. But we had arranged a taxi the night before and all of our bags were packed ("ready to go . . . " sing it out, of course, no waking up to kiss goodbye, we all went).
The airport, flight and and Amsterdam airport were all very smooth. Walked through the airport and straight onto the "snellen" train (which we figured either was really fast or would move like a snail) to The Hague.
The airport, flight and and Amsterdam airport were all very smooth. Walked through the airport and straight onto the "snellen" train (which we figured either was really fast or would move like a snail) to The Hague.
The Train Station at Schipool Airport
What we left behind, of course, was the land of the "Full English Breakfast", pure heaven for my son, who prefers not to be specifically named, so for this entry, we'll refer to him as "Ewan Goinna Pourmeaguinness".
For the uninitiated, a Full English Breakfast is a collection of grease and cholesterol unmatched in the US. A "proper" FEB includes toast, carefully dried over the prior week, somewhat cold and stacked on end in a rack. Then butter, which is somewhat sweeter, with a slight taste of something that has been out a bit to long from the fridge and a selection of jams (strawberry and marmalade, or, if you wish, marmalade and strawberry).
They then have a buffet of juices, canned fruit and cereals. The juices are generally a selection of something orangy, something yellowy and something looking a bit amber, all of which taste vaguely similar. The canned fruit is displayed in large bowls and I think is made all in one vat somewhere in central England. One morning, Ewan took a large bowl of what he thought was pears and what turned out to be grapefruit. The beauty of the "one vat" approach is that it pretty much tastes the same either way. None of us ever got into the habit of having cereal before breakfast as a "starter". They had the regular cereals ("Tony Flakes", "Rice Krisps") and the perennial English favorite, "Wheat-a-Brix" which can function equally well as either a breakfast food or a building brick.
You have your choice of tea or coffee (which can either be "white" or "black", I assume this comes from colonial times).
Your FEB plate of food then arrives and it includes fried bread (a marvelous invention of trimmed bread fried in a cube of butter, okay, this part I always finished), fried mushrooms (one of those traditions you're not sure why it started), baked tomato ("you say potato, I say potato . . . "), an inedible tube of meat masquerading as a sausage, slabs of things that look like ham with white stuff on them which may be leftover fat or possibly curdled cream, you're not quite sure, one or two eggs which you can either have as "scrambled" or "not quite dead yet" and (I'm not kidding) baked beans. Ewan fits right in as he and one of the guests were rhapsodizing about the joys of baked beans on fried bread, as I'm sitting at the table pushing the food from one corner to the next of my plate to make it look like I've tried everything ("stop playing with your food, Gary").
Still, the UK did give us some wonderful pints and meat pies!
They then have a buffet of juices, canned fruit and cereals. The juices are generally a selection of something orangy, something yellowy and something looking a bit amber, all of which taste vaguely similar. The canned fruit is displayed in large bowls and I think is made all in one vat somewhere in central England. One morning, Ewan took a large bowl of what he thought was pears and what turned out to be grapefruit. The beauty of the "one vat" approach is that it pretty much tastes the same either way. None of us ever got into the habit of having cereal before breakfast as a "starter". They had the regular cereals ("Tony Flakes", "Rice Krisps") and the perennial English favorite, "Wheat-a-Brix" which can function equally well as either a breakfast food or a building brick.
You have your choice of tea or coffee (which can either be "white" or "black", I assume this comes from colonial times).
Your FEB plate of food then arrives and it includes fried bread (a marvelous invention of trimmed bread fried in a cube of butter, okay, this part I always finished), fried mushrooms (one of those traditions you're not sure why it started), baked tomato ("you say potato, I say potato . . . "), an inedible tube of meat masquerading as a sausage, slabs of things that look like ham with white stuff on them which may be leftover fat or possibly curdled cream, you're not quite sure, one or two eggs which you can either have as "scrambled" or "not quite dead yet" and (I'm not kidding) baked beans. Ewan fits right in as he and one of the guests were rhapsodizing about the joys of baked beans on fried bread, as I'm sitting at the table pushing the food from one corner to the next of my plate to make it look like I've tried everything ("stop playing with your food, Gary").
Still, the UK did give us some wonderful pints and meat pies!
1 comment:
When you get home Gary I will have to fix you a "genuwine" kiwi breakfast which comes with poached eggd on baked beans on toast, bacon, beef sausages, black sausage and pork sausage, sometimes "toad in a hole" which is fried bread with an egg in the middle. Loved your descriptions. I will have to wipe Bill's slobber off the screen! have fun...duh! Cheryl
Post a Comment