7 Days: Day 4 – Lunch

Looking in the fridge to see what to have for my lunch. Apparently we have all the eggs ever laid in the world. However I went for just Gouda and homemade chutney in my sandwich, a few Mini Cheddars and a glass of water. And yes, I do realise that maybe that large yellow wall behind me might have come in useful on Day 2, but I was trying not to take the easy way out!

7 Days: Day 3 – Sunshine

Five minutes in the garden looking at the blue sky having spent the day doing a transcript, filing a VAT return, updating a tourplan and – mainly – scowling at a papercut.

7 Days: Day 2 – Yellow-ish

My challenge to myself today was to find a splash of natural yellow that wasn’t daffodils or forsythia, both of which can be found in the garden. If only I’d made yellow the theme when the fields around here were full of oilseed rape. I just don’t think these things through! I headed out on my bike and my search led me to the hay feeder beyond the railway bridge. Meaning that to get to it I had to get through the deep squishy mud and puddles under the bridge with my bike. I had visions of me falling sideways into the goop – visions that fortunately did not become a reality.

I had my Gorillapod with me and fastened the camera to one end of the feeder and played around with it for a while, walking back and forth over very questionable hay that was oh-so-wet just below the surface. A couple out walking came past at one point and so I adopted the nonchalant air that every 7 Dayer must at one time or another in their activities. Yes, I have tied my camera to an empty feed trough. Keep walking, there’s nothing to see here. Oh, and please don’t look back behind you as I crouch down below the feeder to try a different shot through the wire. Thank you.

7 Days: Day 1 – Best sandwich EVAH

I made a fancy lunch today. So fancy, that in fact I started making it yesterday evening. Meatball subs have intrigued me for a while, simply because of their pop culture status in my formative years. In other words, Joey from “Friends” liked them. However, the idea of keeping spherical meatballs and a bunch of marinara sauce inside a bread roll while biting into it seemed too much like hard work to me.

So I’ve adapted the main elements and squished them into what was a very yummy lunch today. Here’s what I did to feed three people (though please note that Sam has made me a very drinkable James Bond Martini now, so who knows what I’m going to write):

MEAT PATTIES:
250g pork or beef mince
15g breadcrumbs
1/4 onion, finely diced
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp Worcestershire sauce
1/2 egg, beaten (1 1/2 tbsp)
Seasoning

THE PIONEER WOMAN’S BARBECUE SAUCE (www.thepioneerwoman.com)
1/2 cup tomato ketchup (hello, American units!)
1 tbsp sugar
1 1/2 tbsp vinegar
1 tbsp Worcestershire sauce
chopped onion, to taste

ROLLS
3 sub rolls, halved lengthways and lightly buttered

1. Combine all the patty ingredients in a bowl. Use your hands for extra squishiness between your fingers. Form the mixture into 3 patties to fit sub rolls. Chill in the fridge. And as you’re going in there, you might as well take the patties with you.

2. When the patties have firmed up in the fridge take them out, sprinkle them with plain flour and cook them in a frying pan with a little oil. It’ll take a few minutes for each side. When they’ve got a bit of colour on side put them aside on a plate while you make the sauce.

3. For the sauce, fry the chopped onion in the frying pan (novel!) until it softens, then combine the rest of the sauce ingredients in the frying pan to warm them through. Add the patties back to the pan, cover them with the sauce and then cook until everything’s nice and hot and the sauce has reduced.

4. Meanwhile warm the lightly buttered rolls under the grill so they go a little crusty and the butter melts into the bread. Nom. Also take this time to grate a little cheese. And then some more, because, oh would you look at that, you’ve eaten half of it.

5. Put a patty into each bun, spoon on a little more sauce from the pan if you want, sprinkle some grated cheese on top, close the bun and EAT.

Click for the yummy set

30 hours in Salzburg

Clearly just a simple day trip to France on a magical train that goes beneath the sea isn’t enough adventure for one week. So I added in 30 hours in Salzburg two days later, taking my inexplicably heavy rucksack with me on the magic metal tube that flies in the sky.

I was met at the airport by my friend and his father and having barely set foot in Austria, I was then taken to Germany. We needed to look at pressure washers and apparently Germany is the place for that. It turns out that DIY shops smell the same world over. And that’s why I travel. To find out stuff like that and then let you know. I also do it to stand in shops and laugh along with nice ladies who say things to me of which I do not understand a single word.

In the evening we went to the book presentation. I’d also made sure that a couple of friends had been invited, but not told them that I’d be going too. The sight of their dropped jaws when they came into the room was worth the air fare alone.

The next day there was some snowfall, some sunshine and it was a good day. We bought fancy cakes and apple juice and headed to a studio across town for the boys to do some work. I worked too. If we’re defining work as: sitting on the sofa either eating chocolate truffle cake or listening to great music with my eyes closed.

Later on nature called and I asked if there was a loo. He gave me directions back to the loo we’d passed on our way in, even telling me which swing door to push open and which was locked. Taking it in, I headed to the door and said, “Come and look for me if I’m not back in 30 minutes.” “I’ll give you 15,” he replied, “… now 14.”

I stood outside the door for a few panicked moments, trying to remember the direction from which we’d come. Suddenly it came back to me and leaving the door open as a marker I set off. Cursing my lack of breadcrumbs. I made it to the loo, remembering the landmarks of cupboards and typewriters in the corridor. Ensconced on the loo, trying to tinkle quietly in the empty building – an impossibility, by the way, on a continental toilet – I was in another panic, completely unable to visualise what was beyond the door I’d just shut. I’m really not kidding when I say I have no sense of direction. Then I remembered … forgot … and fortunately remembered again.

Safely back in the dark studio I grinned at him as I sat back down on the sofa. “I made it!”. He looked at the clock on his laptop and said, “With 11 minutes to go.” It was getting late now and I was soon starting to make sure my rucksack was ready for departure to the airport. We arranged that we’d leave in about half an hour. “That gives you time to go to the loo 8 times at the speed you go.”

Click for the set

La soirée

Having pretty much done our sightseeing for the day we headed to the shops to spend a few Euros -and even though I came away with a very nice top from H&M, I’d completely forgotten that we’d gone shopping when it came to writing this post. So I when I saw that there was a whole two hours between the photo of the devil baby and the next shot of Lauren in the restaurant, I was only able to conclude that this time had either been spent passed out in a doorway in the old town, or being brainwashed by a cult in a secret underground bunker. But no, we were shopping!

Food and clothes in tow, we were now looking for a restaurant. A table upstairs at Leffe afforded us a nice view of the main square as darkness was beginning to fall. People were going about their business, lights were coming on and a fire juggler had started to ply his trade.

We had a leisurely dinner and then headed out to the station, stopping here and there to take some photos of Lille at night. The fire juggler also needed photographing in the dark and the steps behind him allowed us to go up above him to get our shots. And to judge that actually, he wasn’t all that good. Unless dropping the batons and having to relight them all the time was part of the act. In which case, he was spot on.

We were back at the station at about 8pm and this time Lauren was able to pass through security without getting the police involved. “Bon voyage”, the security lady called to me as we went towards the gate. Playing it safe, I stuck with that day’s habit of simply repeating whatever someone had just said to me. “Bon…” – wait a minute, she’s not going anywhere – “… ca va!” Pfft, close enough.

Click for the set

L’après-midi

So eventually we stopped people-watching and got back on our feet to wander the old town and photograph every square inch of it. Well, that’s what I did anyway. Lauren’s been there a lot, what with having once lived in the town and all, so she was focussed (ha, focussed!) more on just the details.

Careering around town, hollering and carrying on was a big group of youths. We don’t know what they were doing, but we last saw them sat in front of the cathedral, while one of them set up a few glass bottles on the pavement in front of them. They appeared to be unlit molotov cocktails, but what do I know? We moved on before my hypothesis could be put to the test.

Walking along the French streets of France that afternoon I was also able to be a good citizen. A young child dropped their hat on the path and I picked it up, handing it to the mother when she turned round. “Merci, merci,” she said. But all I could think was “gern geschehen” and so had to resort to Grinning Inanely And Silently At The Nice French Lady. Until, that is, a few steps later when my only audience was Lauren once more and it came to me: “DE RIEN, DE RIEN!”