Reeto

Okay, I'll admit it: Burritos are one of my absolute, all-time favorite foods. No joke. A good burrito ranks right there with spaghetti and meatballs, bratwursts and sauerkraut, and cereal. One of the basic food groups, as far as I'm concerned.

The problem is, I haven't had a burrito in...well, a long, long time. Not for at least, at least, a month, probably more. No La Parilla over break, not even a Taco Bell to keep my mind off of how much I miss a good 'rito and 'rita (It goes without saying, of course, that the best drink to have with a burrito is a margarita--they were made for each other).

Imagine my delight when I found out that there was a burrito joint here in Cambridge. Mexican food is only a recent phenomenon here in England. To say that I was out of my chair in moments is an understatement--it's not just the food, it's also a taste of home, fueled by a deep wellspring of hunger.

And lo, I was not disappointed. Indeed, I could frequent this place. It's a typical La Parilla/Taco Del Mar/Agave/Chipotle/Q'doba place, but with one major distinction: the menu lists the burrito as "Big Ass Burrito." I knew that they were not messing around. And it lived up to its name.

:3

ps, on Tuesdays and Thursdays, they have a van that isn't too far from where I work (probably a 15/20 minute walk, depending) to make their operation mobile. Overjoyed, I am. And hungry. Hmm....is today Tuesday? ;)

Pictures from Edinburgh

Oh, almost forgot, I've uploaded my pictures from Edinburgh.

To see them on Facebook.

To see them on Picasa (as well as some pictures from the summer and fall):

Cambridge (First couple of days)

I was supposed to meet Alice Thompson at St Edmunds and completely missed her: George had printed a map off of Google and drawn in where the college was—which would’ve worked, except the map actually led me to Churchill College and I didn’t scout it out ahead of time. I eventually found St Eds, but too late to meet Alice.

I wandered around Cambridge for a while more, before going back to the house. Not a very exciting day, but everything gets started in earnest tomorrow.

Cambridge: Day 2 (Jan 4)

My first day. I have an office here, which was cold until I found that I could control the heat (I discovered this on Day 3, Jan 5). I went out for a late lunch and ended up having a very good “full breakfast” at a little place here. It was very good, and worth going back to. I met with Dr Liht and Alice Thompson, who are both part of the program.

After work, I dropped my bag off at the house and walked for a long while. I eventually found a pub for a late dinner, but was more interested in getting a sense of the lay of the town (hint: I’m getting there). The entire place is beautiful, so I’ll have to start snapping a bunch of pictures. The pub I went to for dinner was having “quiz night” and the round I was there for was a bunch of US-themed questions like “What state is the ‘Bluegrass State?”, “What is Hillary Clinton’s maiden name?” or “Finish this 1957 movie title: 3:10 to ___.” I felt very smart, even though I wasn’t participating. I was giving the answers to the guys sitting next to me, who also weren’t playing, but were still guessing.

Travel Day (Jan 2)

Andy picked me up early (930) and we got on the road for Cambridge. His parents live there, and he was going anyway, so he offered me a ride. It was a long day with sloppy roads—plenty of ice and slush. Laura switched between sleeping and singing in the backseat, while Andy and I talked about a bunch of different things. Not much to really say about the day, but we got into Cambridge around 515p and went out for dinner at a pub (I had sausage and mash).

I got to the house I’m staying at here, which belong to some friends of George. They’re very nice people (Kate and Peter Crofts) who’ve welcomed me in. I have a stable internet connection for the first time since leaving the states and had an email from Carsey in which she needed Sandy’s number—follow up emails established that her car had been broken into and a bunch of her stuff was stolen. Needless to say, this stresses me out, and I have trouble sleeping.

Edinburgh: Day 3 (New Years Day)

I went back up to the Royal Mile and walked around for a while. I ended up crossing the North Bridge and walking up the road a while to take in quite a vista. While doing some gift shopping for Madre, I found out that not only was I completely out of cash, but my debit card had stopped working. Of course, it’s New Years Day, so the banks are all closed, and tomorrow is the weekend. I can’t withdraw cash, I can’t make credit transactions, and I have 30 pence in my pocket. However, I did get a very nice present for Madre, so that’s a plus. I manage to get hold of the folks and give them the 1800 number for my card (I’m blocked from making the call from the UK for some reason). They find out that the bank shut down my card because they’d seen transactions from Scotland and weren’t able to get hold of me (because I was in Scotland). So they were working in my best interest, and for that, I thank them, but it was still frustrating. Mom and Dad were able to reactivate the card because they’re still cosigners on the account, which makes me wonder why when First Interstate was unable to get hold of me, they didn’t try calling the Padres. But whatevs, crisis resolved.

The Wilkes and I went out for dinner one last time and I left immediately after. I wanted to give them some time together as a family (and I also wanted to explore as much as I could one last time). I walked the Royal Mile again, walked around the University of Edinburgh campus, the Meadows, and went back to “The Last Drop” for a pint. It was definitely awkward being by myself in a crowded pub on New Years, but I stuck out, had my pint, and started to go back to the guesthouse.

Edinburgh: Day 2 (New Years Eve!)

Eep! I overslept! Breakfast is served every day from 9-930, and I woke up at 1030—guess the jetlag was serious about doing business. I decided in perfectly rational fashion that seeing as how I’d already missed breakfast and didn’t have to meet George until 1230, I might as well get the most of it. So I went back to sleep. I know, I know, what a way to waste a morning in Scotland, but it really did help. I really hadn’t stopped moving very much for the past several days and had crossed 5 time zones without sleep.

I was a few minutes late to the “Scottish Whisky Experience” to meet George, Andy, and Laura, and apparently missed them completely. I went into the whisky store and poked around. I found some very interesting things: one batch of whisky that had been distilled in May 2008, so it was still clear and hadn’t aged enough to drink, a bottle of whisky that sold for just over 1900 lbs (that’s more than $3000), and probably no less than 100 varieties of whisky for sale. I waited around outside for around an hour, but never connected with them. Once it started snowing in earnest, I finally called it and went back to the guesthouse, where I laid low until 4.30 (only a couple of hours) until I went back over to the apartment. I managed to call home (having gotten an international calling card) before we went out to a pub for dinner. Dad would appreciate that this pub had 110 different malt whiskies. Oh yes. I didn’t have any, but I did have a Scottish lager with dinner (steak pie). We walked around for a while yet, then went back to the apartment to watch “A Dinner for One, or The Ninetieth Birthday” which is a German tradition (the entire thing is on Youtube, check it out). I left shortly after this and walked up to the Royal Mile, waiting for midnight. There was a ton of activity—between a massive festival on Princes’ Street, large flaming balls on the Royal Mile (there are pictures, I don’t really know how else to describe them), massive gaggles of increasingly drunk people of all ages and one lonesome American (me), it was quite a sight. I walked the entire length of the Royal Mile, trying to find Calton Hill (I needed to actually be across the bridge on Princes’ Street instead of the Royal Mile). After looking at the Scottish Parliament building (a fascinating, beautiful building—all modern architecture) and the closed gates of Holyrood Park for a while, I walked back up the Royal Mile. Along the way, many people wished me “Happy New Year”, including a drunk man who kept shaking and kissing my hand.

My watch says it’s nearing midnight. I get as far up the Royal Mile as I can, coming to St Giles Cathedral and then HAPPY NEW YEAR. A waitress from comes running out from an Italian restaurant, the rest of the staff a few seconds after her—they stand just behind me. Two older women are in front of me, hugging each other. Then the sky lights up with fireworks, coming from the castle. It’s wonderful. One woman in front of me pulls a bottle of champagne from her bag and her friend pulls out 2 glass flutes. They pop the cork and toast the New Year.

Happy 2010!

I start my walk back. On the way, many more “Happy New Years” are exchanged with various folks. I don’t think anyone’s sad to start a fresh decade after the “Naughts.” There is a pair of girls who are way drunk, giggling about who knows what. It’s hard not to notice how one has a skirt so short that it seems to defy the laws of physics. I’m laughing inside, but exchange a new year greeting nonetheless. I finally get back to the guesthouse, wondering if it’s a tad late (130 or so by the time I’m finally back), but no, I spy the landladies popping open another bottle of champagne with friends and know all is well.

Twenty-ten. Here we go.

Edinburgh: Day 1 (Dec 30)

Okay, I’ve been meaning to get this done…there just doesn’t seem to be much of a rush now that I have internet, but time is slipping away.

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First morning in Scotland! I had breakfast at the guesthouse—it’s good, but not great. I’m not sure that it justifies 50lbs/night, but it is Hogmanay. Point of interest: Hogmanay is the largest New Year festival in Europe and it makes its home in Edinburgh. So I was not only trying to find accommodations at New Year, but also New-Year-on-Crack. And for a warm room, a semi-private bathroom (private in that I was the only one using it, but it wasn’t connected to my room), a hot-cooked breakfast, and a friendly landlady, it wasn’t too bad.

For the uninitiated, I suppose I should describe the breakfasts here. Unfortunately it wasn’t a “full Scottish breakfast”, but it was a “full English breakfast” instead. A full English breakfast consists of: tea or coffee, toast, baked beans, fried tomato, sausage, bacon, and eggs. Also, English bacon is amazing—it’s not the fatty cut like American bacon, but rather pure meat. A full Scottish breakfast consists of all of the things in the English breakfast, but also porridge with a dollop of whisky and blood pudding. If I could’ve taken a picture of breakfast without being rude, I would have. I’ll try to get one here in Cambridge.

Anyway. I wandered around Edinburgh for the morning before meeting with George and his family for lunch at a pub called “The Last Drop.” I thought this was a clever way of referring to finishing your ale or lager, but actually it’s because it was where the old gallows used to be and “the last drop” is in reference to hangings. Pleasant, isn’t it? For lunch, I had haggis, tatties, and neep. Now, haggis has a fairly poor reputation in the states, but hot damn was it good. I actually wasn’t expecting to like it as much as I did, and it continued to grow on me upon later reflection. Point of interest: “tatties and neep” is an English/Scottish way of saying “mashed potato and mashed turnip,” both of which were also very good.

I went back George’s apartment to discuss some details of the work I’m doing with his program for the rest of the afternoon while Hannah, Andy, and Laura went to see a panto (theater specifically aimed at children) performance of Robinson Crusoe.

We had dinner at the apartment and I had a wee dram of some amazing whisky—Edradour. It comes from the smallest distillery in Scotland, just outside of Edinburgh. I had the “cask strength” variety that was 60.2% alc/vol—those who know I don’t drink much whisky will know that this was a trial for me. But it was very, very smooth and exquisite. I’m still trying to get my hands on some for Padre, but it was very expensive. I made my way back to the Grassmarket and then wandered around from there for around an hour or so. I was feeling the jetlag really kicking in, though, so I made it back to the guesthouse in fairly short order and that was that.