Veggiburgers and dreadlocks

I should have title this post steak and ale pie, but I would rather focus on the positive rather than the scary, deathlike negative. So here is the good part.

Yesterday I ventured to the experience that is Borough Market. Borough Market is an extravaganza of people, smells, sounds, and most of all...food. Every kind of food that you can imagine is there: fruits, vegetables, breads, pastries, pastas, teas, coffee, sugar, preserves, chocolate, even an entire stand of Turkish Delights, cheesecakes, breads, sausages, deli meats, fish, seafood, sushi, kangaroo burgers, oriental rices and couscous, and a vegetarian food stand. I am sure I am missing some. I was tempted by every passing smell and the delectable sight of all of the sweets. If money and appetite were no object (and all too often appetite with me is no object), I would have tried it all. Alas, I had to make my decision a frugal (and healthy) one.

In the middle of all of the chaos and busyness was this vegetarian stand run by what appeared to be three legit hippies and a shaggy-haired offspring munching on a veggiburger in the corner. Now, these were not the scary hippies that play fiddles in the woods in the middle of the night around a campfire after they have been berry picking all day (Scott and Jenny, you will understand this). Granted, the one cooking the veggiburgers did have dreadlocks and a frizzy beard down to his chest. But the burgers, pesto, humus, and everything else that they were making looked and smelled positively divine. I simply had to indulge. I am after-all here to immerse myself in the London culture.

I authoritatively declared this a mission of cultural education as I forked over five pounds (rather painfully) for my juicy, perfectly charred veggiburger smothered in humus and wrapped in spinach and a fresh grainery bun...Pure bliss...I really do get far too excited about food.

I understand now from a born and bred Londoner that the Borough Market is well known for its brownies. So, although I resisted the lure of the chocolate this time, I don't know if I will be able to say no to their world famous brownies on my next visit to Borough Market (oh yes, there will be a second trip).

And now that everyone is properly salivating at the thought of grilled veggie concoctions and chocolatey brownie bliss, I will now tell you why this blog should be titled "steak and ale pie, oh my."

I have had my first pub grub.

I have had my first steak and ale pie.

I have also now had my first case of food poisoning.

Wednesday evening after a full day at my internship and then class (which was a walking tour in central London--yes, that was class) I was to attend a showing of Marlowe's Dr. Faustus(another story all its own). I had anticipated the lack of time to run back to my flat to make dinner and had accordingly packed a PB and J sandwich, apple, and milk chocolate digestive biscuits (translation: cookies). However, my lunch had also been the aforementioned assortment of food and not very filling. And after walking all over central London, I knew the measly sandwich simply wasn't going to cut it.

So, alas, I joined my flatmates on a search for some cheap pub grub, which we found at The Goose. I absolutely love the names of pubs here. Where else in the world is a drinking establishment endearingly called The Goose, The Black Friar, Devonshire Arms, the Goat, or Fox Tavern? Half of London's history is recorded in the names of its pubs and taverns. If you want to know who frequented the place, just look at its name. Their occupation is often incorporated into the name. They are British fraternities and brotherhoods and serve as a place of camaraderie, gossip, and brotherly bonds. Going to a pub is a part of a student of culture's basic education.

However, I feel that my three pound steak and ale pie may not have been the best example of pub hospitality. Not only was the globs of pure fat intermixed in my gravy rather repulsive, I had been previously surviving on pasta, beans (protein), and pb and j. Not a smart choice on my part. However, it was not until later that night that I was to discover all the hidden joys in this gravy and meat pie.

In hindsight, maybe I should have had the fish and chips.

Note: I am currently completely recovered from the food poisoning and was mostly recovered when I went to the market yesterday (however, notice--I did NOT eat any meat at the market).