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A Letter From London by Phillip Silverstone
On my east bound journey, I did indeed sit in the middle of the
bus - in Club - where I polished off several glasses of Piper
Heidsieck bubbly. I find that fizz at altitude mellows me out
and lets me handle the bumpy pits panic free. The champers flows
like water in Club World and when I've got nothing but H20 below
me, I certainly don't want it in my glass.
I ordered the fish and chips which tasted like they just came
out of the chip shop and were even served with the traditional
malt vinegar. I washed them down with a glass of Sancerre and
thought I was pretty close to belong in heaven - but thankfully,
I was still several clouds beneath it.
While sniffing around a book store in London's Strand, I came
across a slim volume by Keith Floyd, my absolutely favorite British
TV foodie. He isn't real well known in this country, but he should
be as his shows are simply brilliant. I picked up "Floyd
On Hangovers" which gives some international recipes to help
relieve the pain on the morning after the night before, and here
are some of Floyd's remedies:
In Germany if you've got a spot of the katzenjammers, a plate
of soused herrings washed down with a glass of pils does the trick.
The Aussies recommend a couple of steak pies with tomato sauce
followed by some ice-cold Coca-Cola. The Spanish solution is little
clams, preferably eaten raw. And while in Puerto Rico, they are
reputed to rub the juices of various fruits into their armpits.
I hooked up with some of my mates in the Strand, which by the
way, is just down from Trafalgar Square. I felt like being teddibly
teddibly British, so we booked a table for dinner at the swanky
Savoy Hotel. None of us had eaten there before, and at around
$100 per person, we won't be back for another millennium. However,
it was serious good eats, and the dining room is quiet with table
continents apart, and waiters decked out in penguin suits.
I ordered smoked salmon for an appetizer, and the house specialty,
Beef Wellington for my entree. The salmon was delivered in paper
thin slices so the plate could be seen through it - perfect and
the best I've ever eaten. The Beef Wellington arrived on a cart
and looked like apple strudel. The meat, sandwiched in soft pastry
was served with truffle sauce , and cabbage with cheese and roasted
potatoes. I ordered the Savoy house white wine - a white Burgundy
with the salmon, and a Brouilly, one of my favorite Beaujolais
vineyards for the beef. I finished with a glass of Fonseca 1970
port with the cheese selection which contained every smelly variety
known to man, and a few I've never met before - but their smells
linger on.
I read in the London Evening Standard about a loony product
being introduced by a soft drink producer. The lemon flavored,
carbonated soda drink will speed up the body's ability to break
down alcohol - or so they claim. Developed in Holland, it's called
EXIT, and is supposed to begin working immediately.
However, it must be taken before drinking alcohol because it won't
work afterwards. The product supposedly slows the rate at which
people get drunk and helps prevent hangovers. EXIT contains fructose,
quinine, and other natural ingredients which speed up the body's
own enzymes and turn alcohol into water, but leaves traces of
alcohol in the bloodstream which means it's still possible to
fail a breath test administered by your friendly police officer.
The general feeling amongst critics in Britain is that EXIT's
producers are capitalizing on the hangover market. It takes the
liver about thirty minutes to break down a single glass of wine
or half a pint of beer, and as of yet there is no evidence to
prove this product could speed this process along.
Most of us who enjoy our glass of wine with lunch or dinner do
so to enhance the meal and not to drown our troubles. Those twits
who like to get smashed out of their question-able brains should
not be pampered and helped to overcome their drinking binges.
Let's hope the drink in question doesn't cross the Pond, and if
it does, let's show it the Exit.
I'm out of here. Cheers!
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I recently made my bi-annual trip to Old Blighty to visit the
mater and pater. I always let British Airways chauffeur me across
the pond on their non-stop magic carpet. If you can afford their
business class, called Club World, there's nothing quite like
it, especially if you want to wine surf an exceptional in-flight
drink list and sample some smashing high altitude cooking.
I've tried to find a word in the Thesaurus to adequately describe
this meal, and phenomenal doesn't even begin to come close.
When it comes to dining in London, my beef's with the Savoy!
Phillip Silverstone is a syndicated broadcaster and columnist. His book, "Cheers! The World of a Wine-osaur" (Camino Books, $12) is available in bookstores everywhere.