Thanksgiving and anniversary 2008

In 2008 we celebrated Thanksgiving and our fourth wedding anniversary on the same day. Well actually, we celebrated Thanksgiving on Thanksgiving and had our big anniversary the next day, but it was all one big, happy party to us.

For Thanksgiving, we picked up all our supplies from the farmers' market the Sunday before. This meant that we had a giant turkey sitting in our fridge for several days. He made himself right at home, wrapped loosely in butcher's paper to keep the skin dry so it would get nice and crispy. The Kiwis joined us for our feast. It was their first Thanksgiving ever, and I think they really enjoyed the experience. We had to work during the day and cook everything in the early evening, but it worked well. We had the full spread: turkey, gravy, stuffing, mashed sweet potatoes, carrots, rolls, cranberry sauce, pumpkin and apple pies with whipped cream. Everything was absolutely delicious. It was funny going into Waitrose the days before the big feast. You could really tell that there are a lot of Americans in the neighborhood. Just like at home, the chicken stock was sold out, it was hard to find thyme and sage, and the canned pumpkin and jarred cranberry sauce they had put out in special displays was completely ransacked. It was good to know that so many people were celebrating my favorite holiday.

The next day we went back to work reluctantly, then went out for feast number two, to celebrate our anniversary. We had reservations at the River Cafe, a perennially popular and extremely influential Italian restaurant on the river in Hammersmith, or Fulham or something. It was hard to find. It was also really far away, or seemed like it. We got dressed as soon as we got home from work and then had to hop on the tube, then another tube, then walk for about 20 minutes, first the wrong way then the right way. I actually took off my heels at one point because my feet were killing me. But we got there eventually and took our table.

Let me pause here to tell you about my outfit for the evening. I have lots of pretty dresses. They are a weakness of mine. But I wanted something really special to wear for this dinner. I had found a cool skirt at a designer sample sale earlier in the year, and I spent about a month leading up to our anniversary trying to find a top to wear with it. I've never spent so much time trying to put together an outfit, even for our wedding. But I looked fantastic. There, I said it. No false modesty. The skirt is made of a shiny black material, kind of like taffeta. It looks slightly Victorian, gathered all over so it has a tiered effect. It makes a statement. Amy helped me finally find a top to go with it: a sheer ivory blouse with black lace insets and a high neck. With black stockings and high heels, it was a striking ensemble. I felt glamorous and beautiful and romantic.

I'll get to the food in a minute. It certainly deserves its own paragraph. But first let me tell you about my CELEBRITY SIGHTING. Andrew and I had just been seated and were looking over the menu, sipping our glasses of prosecco, and checking out the room and the other diners. I looked back at Andrew to give him a happy smile, when I noticed another party being seated. "Whoa, Andrew. That guy looks exactly like Wes Anderson. He's even wearing a Wes Anderson jacket. Wait a minute, no, that is Wes Anderson!" It was, too. We spent a few flurried minutes slyly looking at his table to see if it really was him and decided it must be. I got up to find the bathroom, and on my way back I stopped at his table. I don't know if I should have, or what the protocol was, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity. I walked up and said, "I'm really sorry to interrupt your conversation, but are you Wes Anderson?" "Why, yes I am." "Oh my goodness, it's so nice to meet you. You've made all my favorite movies. You're, like, my hero." Eloquent, don't you think? Anyways, he was really nice and friendly, and his dining companions smiled at me, and he asked why I was there and waved at Andrew and wished us a happy anniversary. He had a good, firm handshake, too. I smiled and said thanks and walked back to the table beaming. So. Exciting. I now know that he must have been in London making Fantastic Mr Fox, which turned out brilliantly. What a guy.

Now, on to the food. This was almost a year and a half ago, so I don't think I can remember all the details exactly, but I do remember prosecco and olives to begin with. I remember a lemony crab crostini starter on my side and perhaps a mozzarella salad on Andrew's side. Then roast lamb with rosemary and anchovies and creamy cranberry beans for me and roast sea bass and fennel for Andrew. For dessert, the infamous chocolate nemesis, of which all flourless chocolate tarts are mere shadows. All the flavors were clean and crisp and delicious in a really comforting, subtle, easy way. The fact that London is such a foodie paradise today is due in some part to the River Cafe and its pioneering chefs, Ruth Rogers and Rose Gray (RIP). Their food couldn't but make you happy. It was like eating a hug. Which made it perfect fare for two love birds celebrating four beautiful years together. We had a lovely time, and after all the food and wine and vin santo, we caught a cab back home to save my feet. It was an elegant, entertaining, exciting evening. A perfect anniversary.

Ahh, the Farmers' Market

There are many wonderful things about living in Marylebone. Our flat is fantastic, we're within walking distance of almost everywhere we might want to go, we have easy access to Hyde and Regents Parks, the high street is charming and full of fun window shopping, we have good transport links, there are dozens of incredible restaurants within 15 minutes, the list goes on. But the absolute best thing about living here is the farmers' market that takes place every Sunday. Ever since we moved in, I would guess we've only missed the Sunday market about six to eight times, and those times were only when we were out of town. We plan our weekends around the market. We've even been known to scurry back to town from a weekend trip just so we could make it to the market.

This might sound a bit overblown, but let me tell you, this is the best farmers' market I've ever seen. The vendors all come from within 50 miles of London, so everything is local and fresh, and you might be surprised to see everything that can be harvested in such a small area. There are seafood carts, meat and poultry stands, cheese makers, bakers, mushroom foragers, a stall that sells nothing but potatoes, and about a half dozen tables selling all sorts of fruits and vegetables. There are even vendors that sell locally made oil and darn tasty apple cider. The market runs every Sunday of the year (except maybe at Christmas), rain or snow or wind or shine. And it's always packed with customers. We've had some pretty nasty weather this winter, but even at the worst of it, there have been hordes of people at the farmers' market. It restores my faith in humanity.

It also feeds me, very well. The produce is incredible. The best bacon and sausages. The freshest vegetables and herbs. The tastiest mushrooms. And don't get me started on the potatoes. You may think you know potatoes, but you do not truly understand them until you taste the ones from our farmers' market. The farmer is the nicest guy, and he always gives us extra potatoes so we don't go hungry. Our poultry guy is great, too, and he has provided us with many a delicious chicken for roasting, a few ducks for braising, and two glorious Thanksgiving turkeys. There's a shy but friendly guy who sells us really good greens, another shy but friendly guy who has the best squash. Then there's the jovial cockney who oversees bins and bins of carrots and onions and cabbages. There's the tweed-clad guy who sells sausages alongside good-natured complaints about the bloody weather. There's the baker from California. It feels good buying food from friends rather than the supermarket.

Every Sunday we follow the same schedule. The market runs from 10 to 2, so we have time for a morning coffee and croissant down the street while we make our menu and shopping list for the week. Then we walk to the market, our two green Publix shopping bags on our shoulders, and get everything we can from the market. Then maybe a stop at the butcher's for eggs (they have brighter yolks than the ones at the market) and sometimes the cheese shop. Finally, Waitrose, where we usually only have to buy a few dry goods, some dairy, cleaning products, etc. We usually manage to get at least half our groceries, and almost all of our produce, from the market. We feel really good about this setup, because we're buying locally, we're supporting local farmers, we're getting fresher, cheaper, better produce, and we're eating really healthfully. It's a beautiful cycle. And it's always, always a treat, even in the dead of winter.

That being said, I am looking forward to spring and summer produce. First will be asparagus and peas in the pod. Then new potatoes and soft herbs. Then lettuces and radishes and strawberries. Then artichokes and broad beans. Then tomatoes and peppers and cucumbers and fennel and zucchini. Then plums and blackberries and raspberries. In the fall, different kinds of potatoes, apples, squashes of every shape, size, and color. Leeks. Jerusalem artichokes. Parsnips. Mushrooms. Game. Every week is slightly different, and every week is delicious. Well done, farmers.

Our flat in Marylebone

It's no longer new to us, but most of you have never seen our flat in Marylebone. We moved in October 2008, although it's such a perfect fit that we feel like we've always been here. I've already described the process of finding the flat, which was serendipitous. It's a studio flat like the one in Enfield, but the main room is much, much bigger, and the ceilings are much, much higher. We're talking 14 feet or so, and we've got three windows that are about 13-feet high and lead out onto a little balcony. The center point of the main room is a (non-working) fireplace with a beautiful carved mantel, and there are carved plaster decorations on the ceiling, too. We're on the second floor of a building that was constructed in 1815, which is delightful but comes with its own special features such as sloping floors and, a few times, a mouse in the kitchen. We've gotten rid of him, fortunately, and we haven't had any other problems since we've been here.

Our landlords are wonderful, which, I gather from talking to other Londoners, is rare. We lucked out with BJ and Preeti in Enfield and the folks at Bryanston here. We even got to go to the property developer's 80th birthday party in December at one of the fanciest hotels in London. Not quite on par with the great time we had at BJ and Preeti's daughter's wedding, but still not too bad!

So in our main room we have our bedroom area in one corner by the windows, separated from the entryway by a tall, wide bookshelf turned on its side to form a short wall that holds our clothes in bins between the shelves. In the other window-facing corner is our dining table and chairs, and on the other side of the fireplace from that, leading towards the kitchen and bathroom, is our living room area, with our little sofa and our TV/game/music/computer setup. The kitchen is small but not overly so, with all new appliances, including a surprise larger-than-usual refrigerator, a gas stove, and a DISHWASHER! You have no idea how happy this last item has made us. The bathroom is quite spacious, with a nice deep bathtub and plenty of counter space. Finally, there is lots of storage space, including two built-in wardrobes, or closets, as we Americans call them, not appreciating how rare and special they are in this country.

All in all, we will be very sad to say goodbye to our flat. It has been a very comfortable home for us for about a year and a half now, and we're happy to spend a few more months here making the most of London!

For a few blurry pictures, see: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=57499&id=509253462&l=a4305a64a2

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness

In September 2008, I had built up quite a bit of unrewarded overtime and managed to convince my boss to let me take a day off without taking it out of my annual leave. Andrew had some extra holiday time too, so we took a long weekend trip to Dorset, Somerset and Wiltshire.

Andrew picked up a rental car in Enfield on Saturday morning and we loaded up our camping gear and travel CDs and hit the road. We've only rented a car in the UK a couple times because they have weird rules about not renting to Americans who have lived here more than a year without getting British driver's licenses. We must have been just over the limit even then, but no one seemed to notice, and we thrilled to the freedom of the open road. We drove halfway around the M25, which seemed to take forever, but then we got onto smaller roads through charming villages and picturesque farms. This time we paid a little extra to get an automatic, so there was much less driving-related stress than on our previous car-renting experience, and we had a great time just riding along, singing and talking and relaxing.

We made it down to the Dorset coast, near Bridport, in time for a late lunch at the campsite. There was a little cafe in the farmhouse, and they served up delicious soups, sandwiches, scones and tea in the garden. After we ate and set up our tent, we walked down through the sheep pastures to catch the footpath leading to the water. There weren't too many people around because it was too cold to swim, so we had the beach pretty much to ourselves. That section of the Dorset coastline is called the Jurassic Coast for all the fossils that have been discovered there. We didn't see any fossils, but we did see lots of different kinds of rock and soil layered in the cliffs. There wasn't much of a beach, but there were huge boulders leading out into the water that were fun to climb on. After the beach, we walked back up the hill to the campsite, past dozens more sheep and one very big, very friendly horse. We were just too late to get afternoon tea, so we got back in the car and drove to the next town down the coast, Lyme Regis, to do some more exploring.

I knew of Lyme Regis from a Jane Austen novel (Persuasion, I think). It was a popular beach resort in the 19th century, especially among people who wanted to "take the water" for their health. Walking around the town, it was easy to imagine the leisured classes of Jane Austen's time strolling along the promenade and through the gardens. Everything was beautiful and elegant and timeless. We gave up on tea and explored the town, then found a restaurant on the promenade for a seafood supper. Then it was back to the tent to discover that it was quite a bit colder than we thought it would be. Do we never learn?

We had a pleasant night, however, and got an early start in the morning. We drove through some of the nearby villages on roads that were barely wide enough for one car, much less two, but we never ran into any real trouble. In the late morning we found an apple orchard that was closed for the U-Pick season but let us pick a few bags because we asked nicely. In the next town, we stopped to get a snack and Andrew bought a winning lottery ticket for 50 pounds! By the early afternoon we had left Dorset, passed through Somerset and arrived at our destination for the night: Stourhead.

I had really wanted to go to Stourhead when we were on our big camping trip, but it was impossible to get to on public transport so we had to skip it. It looked beautiful in all the photos, it was stunning in Pride and Prejudice, and I had built it up in my mind as a perfect place. It did not disappoint. We drove onto the estate, down a lane lined with ancient trees and went to the 300-year-old inn on the property to check in. We had a beautiful room with tall windows and a big, comfy bed. After we got settled, we walked out into the property and up to the manor house. Once you've seen a few stately homes, they all start to blend together a bit, but I remember Stourhead having a particularly nice library. More interesting than the house were the gardens, which we explored at a leisurely pace, knowing that we could go wander the grounds even after they were closed to the public because we were staying at the inn.

The early autumn scenery was beautiful, and we saw the sun set over the lake, casting an ethereal golden glow over everything. We walked around the lake, stopping to look into the temples, grottoes and groves that were dotted all around. We took about a million photos, too, some of which you can see here: http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=100836&id=509253462&l=8fee0d6b43.Even more impressive than the beauty, though, was the feeling of bliss that washed over me as I contemplated the beauty all around.

After our tour of the gardens, we went back to the inn for a delicious dinner and a wonderful night's sleep. Nothing gets you ready for a good night's sleep in a bed than a cold night's sleep in a tent! The next morning, after breakfast, we took a last, leisurely stroll around the lake before the gardens opened to the public. Then we got back on the road and drove to Lacock, a tiny historical village that looks like it hasn't changed in hundreds of years. A lot of movies have been filmed there, and it really did feel like stepping back in time, but not in as cheesy a way as you might think. It was lovely. Lacock is also home to a medieval cloistered abbey-turned manor house and a museum dedicated to William Fox Talbot, who used to live in the house and who was an early photography pioneer. They had a really good exhibit explaining the history of photography and how the chemical processes work. They also had a great exhibit of photographs to illustrate a special edition of Alice in Wonderland by a woman from Gainesville.

After tea and scones in Lacock, we drove back toward London, stopping for lunch and a quick walkaround in Eton. It looked a lot like Oxford, and many of the schoolboys we saw walking around in their ties and tails will end up in Oxford in a few years. It's a pretty town in its own right, too, with the swan-dotted Thames flowing through the middle. It provided a perfect ending to our relaxing weekend.

Yellowstone photo album

Here's a link to our Yellowstone photos. You don't need to be on Facebook to see them; it's a public link.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=102267&id=509253462&l=b93c54a4ff

Ricke Family Vacation continued

Don't worry. We made room for food. Each couple was in charge of one night's dinner, and we gathered all our groceries from a classic vacation grocery store. You know the kind. This was no Publix. It wasn't even a Piggly Wiggly. It was a proper frontier store, mostly preserved packaged goods. The best we could find for our planned fish tacos was frozen "shrimp". But we all thought on our feet, found everything we needed, and piled back in the car, with two bags of groceries per lap, and drove to the rental house.

We drove, and drove, and drove. We had very clear directions, but they were of the landmark variety. They consisted of "drive down such-and-such road until you see the mountain; then turn right until you see Old Mr Frederickson. He'll point you to the driveway." After much doubling back and doubling back again, we found what we thought ought to be the house (they don't do house numbers in Idaho) and then spent about 20 minutes fanning out across the property to find the keys. But eventually we found them and got in, and it was awesome. There were big, comfy couches everywhere. There were seemingly thousands of rooms. There was a hot tub on the back porch. There was a huge common room with a big TV for Beijing Olympics viewing. And there was an audioanimatronic deer head on the wall. We made ourselves right at home and began our vacation in earnest.

Over the next week, we played countless rounds of flip cup and Mario Kart, watched lots of Olympics coverage, cooked and cleaned in the kitchen, played Ricke Bocce ball in the yard, soaked in the hot tub, built campfires in the fire pit, took silly pictures, played board games, channeled our assigned totem animals (Andrew and I were moose; others were wolves, bears and...beavers? pikas? I can't remember), and spent all sorts of quality time in the house.

We also spent all sorts of quality time in the parks. We drove all over Yellowstone and saw canyons and rivers and burnt trees from the wildfires. We went on hikes up and down and around and through. We saw Old Faithful and its neighbor geysers. We saw eagles and pikas and, according to Andrew, a moose, and, finally, on our last day, a bear. We went not only to Yellowstone but also to Grand Teton, where we walked around a lake and up a mountain or two. One day we took the plunge and went swimming in a glacier-fed lake. Another day we went canoeing in a very shallow river and watched a distant forest fire spewing smoke into the atmosphere. We had some good food along the way, too, including a very slow but delicious pizza lunch and a phenomenal dinner at Teton Thai. We spent lots of time in the van, which brought us closer together than we wanted to be at times but ultimately brought us even closer together as a family.

Some were sick intermittently; others lost their tempers. Such is a family vacation. But we all had a wonderful time being with each other and enjoying the beautiful scenery and the clean air. And all too soon we had to head back to Cody for one last family dinner in a frontier steakhouse, followed by one last game of flip cup, in a hotel that Buffalo Bill built. Then it was a flight to Salt Lake City, a flight to Atlanta, and a flight to Tallahassee. Then, for Andrew and me, another set of flights back to London, away from the wild west, away from America, and back to our own adventure in London.

Getting ready for back again, but making the most of being here now

Andrew and I are moving back to the US this summer (we don't know where, just yet), so I figured I ought to try to catch up on some of the highlights of our time here so I'll have a complete record by the time we leave. The last time I posted, other than a special Amsterdam edition last year, was the fall of 2008. So here, as promised then, is the first installment of our summer 2008 family vacation. It was legendary, as you'll soon see.

The Ricke family has a tradition of wholesome, adventurous, outdoorsy sorts of vacations. We have been to dozens of state and national parks, done the whole camping and canoeing thing, and experienced, many times over, the glories of the cross-country road trip. But it wasn't until this year that we finally made it to the grandaddy of all the national parks, Yellowstone. This was also the first time we all travelled together as a much bigger family, with an extra husband, a fiancee, and a girlfriend (soon to be a fiancee, although we didn't know at the time!) in tow. The only missing family members were of the four-legged variety.

Andrew and I flew over a couple days early and just had time to hang out with Zack into the wee hours of our first night back on American soil. The next day we saw Matt Cooper, Zach and Mary Frances, Owen, and the brand-new Elliott, who was nice enough to let me hold him until my arms ached. We had a riproaring time at dinner and at Black Dog, where we took over the back porch until they kicked us out. We had some high-quality time with the Marders, too, including a very nice brunch, and we crashed Diane Eaton's going-away-to-grad-school party with Matt, but then it was time for the vacation within the larger vacation.

Let me just say, first of all, that I was very impressed by the logistical efficiency of the whole trip. Getting eight people with all their luggage to the right places at the right times is difficult, but we managed it. The first leg of the trip was a short flight from Tallahassee to Atlanta, where we picked up Bryan and Christina and spent the night in a hotel near the airport that featured a pretty decent Mexican restaurant. The next morning (I guess 4:30 is morning and not night) we got up and, I don't want to say forced, perhaps facilitated, our way onto a crowded shuttle bus headed for the airport. We got to the plane with no mishaps and had two long but easy flights, first to Salt Lake City, then to Cody. Andrew and I explained to everyone the elaborate buddy system we had developed in Europe, which meant that each person had a buddy (their significant other) and each set of buddies had another set to look out for, in age order. Mommy and Daddy looked out for Andrew and me, who looked out for Bryan and Christina, who looked out for Nicholas and Katie, who looked out for Mommy and Daddy. Beautiful. And it worked; we came back with all eight people!

The flights were notable to me for two reasons: one, Katie and I discovered we brought the same silly but enjoyable vampire book to read. That Katie is a quick reader; as fast as I am. Two, the flight to Cody was on a plane about as big as the table I'm sitting at. It was a fairly smooth ride, but we were all pretty happy to get off the plane. Happy, and hungry. First we had to pick up the car, which involved estimating how much room we and our luggage would need, to determine if we needed the huge van or the ginormous van. We went with the huge van, based partly on Katie's confident guess that we would all fit. She was right, with mere inches to spare. So we piled in and drove into "town." More on Cody at the end of the trip, but at that point we needed food. We decided to try the Silver Dollar Cafe, which promised the best burgers in the West. They were not the best burgers in the West, as it turns out, but they were decent, and we all ate as if we had never eaten before. Well, maybe that was just me.

After lunch, we made for the open road and drove, and drove, and drove. One by one, we drifted off in the back seats, and I remember waking up to find that we had finally reached the eastern edge of Yellowstone, about three hours after leaving Cody. We stopped at a gift shop in one of the little villagey clusters of facilities scattered through the park, then we got back in the car to keep driving. But at that point, it was no longer a chore; it was an attraction. As we neared the very heart of the park, we started to see animals. First, a buffalo on the side of the road, then ten buffaloes, then, all of a sudden, hundreds and thousands of buffaloes, spread across a great plain. We stopped at some mud pools, and there was a buffalo there, too, not ten feet away from where we stood, not so securely, on the slightly raised boardwalk.

The mud pools were unlike anything I had ever seen. Or smelled. They were sulfurous, which doesn't really sound all that bad, but imagine a swimming pool full of sulfurous fluids, and you start to get an idea of the odor. With the breeze blowing the fumes in our faces, we felt like visitors to an egg factory gone horribly, horribly wrong. They were fascinating to look at, though. The pools had muddy water in them, and the gases rising up through the hot water made it bubble violently as if it were boiling. There were tiny cones of earth, too, sending wisps of steam up into the dry air. The landscape looked as though it should be very hot, but it was mild because of the altitude. It was dry, though. There is not enough lip balm in the world to keep me comfortable in that kind of climate.

After the mud pools, we drove through a traffic jam of cars and buffaloes. Sometimes the cars were simply stopping to let vacationers hang out the windows and take pictures of the buffaloes, but often the animals walked right onto the road between the cars, forcing them to stop. We took about a thousand pictures of the buffaloes. We saw them standing, eating, nursing, rolling, tumbling, even running. They were the perfect embodiment of nature: grand and majestic, but at the same time, completely silly and unpredictable. I would not go so far as to call them elegant creatures.

As we drove west, through the park, we saw more mud pools, more buffaloes, then rivers and waterfalls and many mountains. We stopped for a few photo opportunities, but tried to push on so we could get to the grocery store in West Yellowstone and from there, on to the cabin in Idaho. That's right, this is all still on the first day. We found the grocery store and, along with it, a quandary. We had planned to buy all of our groceries at once so we wouldn't have to go back to the store, but with all of us and all of our luggage, there was no room for food. And in our group, no room for food is a serious problem.

More soon.