Stranger In A (Not So) Strange Land

Tag: food

  • What’s missing?

    I’ve noticed that I spend a lot of time raving about my new home life. I’m still in the “shiny and new” stage I suppose. That doesn’t mean that there are not elements of my old home that I don’t miss. Several have come to mind recently. In fact, I plan to be sure to have all of them wrapped into my visit at the end of November. Each one has sat as a small hole in my heart, waiting to be refilled on a return to the states.

    Now you may be wondering what those few things are. Or you may not. Either way I’m going to tell you. Unless you decide right now to stop reading, but then it’s on you. If you are okay going through life with this small mystery in your mind…letting it grow…encompassing more and more of your thoughts until you can’t take it anymore! Well then that’s on you.

    Just for clarification, I’m not mentioning all the wonderful people in my life who I truly do miss. Thank goodness for Zoom and WhatsApp!

    Here they are, in no particular order:

    1. Blue cheese salad dressing. I KNOW! I’m not quite sure why I am unable to find it anywhere in my corner of England. Perhaps because it is too French? Too posh? Too deliciously flavourful? Mind you, there are plenty of other types that are easy to come by. Honey mustard, French (hey, wait a minute. There goes my theory) Italian, ranch. And I know, I could simply buy some bleu cheese and make my own. It’s not the same. I want to grab a bottle of Wishbone Dressing and pour it on.
    2. Jersey Tomatoes and Corn. There’s no getting around this. The fresh fruit and vegetable access here is great, but there will never be any way to replace the best. I was okay going for a whole summer with no corn fritters and no fried tomatoes, but that gives me a year to figure out a way around it.
    3. The extremely hot weather. Ha! Tricked you. I’m loving the idea that a “heatwave” is in the mid 80s and lasts no more that 2 days. As opposed to 90+ and lasting for weeks on end. It would be like me saying I miss getting up at 5:30 am on Sundays, or having to drive everywhere. So no, I don’t miss the heat at all.
    4. (Or the real 3:) Cynicism. More specifically, the opportunity to be cynical. Here’s a scenario – I order something that is to be delivered in 30 minutes. I wait over 45. Now, in NJ this is cause for righteous anger. I mean, how dare they! No tip for you. And a rotten review online. (Now it’s 50 minutes) TWO rotten reviews online. This is awful.

    Then there’s a ring at the door. Perfect. Grab my keys and all my pent up anger. Swing open the door to see a young man with his bicycle, standing in the rain, my package carefully protected from the weather. “I am so sorry, I do not have a car, so this took a long time with the rain.” Stick a pin in me, clearly my privelege is showing. So I take my package, tell him it’s not a problem, tell him to be safe on the slick roads, and pull out my app to up his tip. I mean, really. Defeated by an honest apology.

    Overall, there are few things I miss. Outweighed by the positive: walking everywhere, pleasant people smiling and saying hello, conversation on the buses, not starting work until 9 a.m. (Let’s be honest, I said 9 a.m. because I don’t want you to know I often don’t get going until 10.) Pleasant pubs with good food, good drinks, and football on the TV. If this is the shiny/new stage, I hope it lasts. Because I’m willing to trade off that bleu cheese dressing for the joy of being in Reddish.

    UPDATE: You aren’t going to believe this. I was lamenting my salad distress with Sarah, the owner of my local coffee shop. She went into the back, came out with a catalogue and said she could order some. I thought that was such a sweet gesture. Then, a few days later, I was waiting at the bus stop and she came running out to tell me the dressing was here! I can neither confirm or deny that I ate a salad every day for the next 9 days. But I can confirm that it was heaven, and I’ve been incredibly lucky to find her shop. One checked off the list. And if you are ever in Reddish, be sure to stop at Sykes Coffee House. Best coffee, best food, best people.

  • I Found it in the Biscuit Aisle

    Today was the day it finally happened.

    It was inevitable. Anyone who has ever moved knows that it is a moment that is unavoidable. There is no predetermined length of time after you arrive for it to occur. Sometimes it sneaks up on you in the oddest of places, when it is least expected. For me, it occurred today, in the local grocery store.

    Now I know you know what I’m talking about. I’ve arrived in my new home and done all of the best practices for getting used to a new area. Brought specific items that remind me of the places I have lived before. Purchased little comfort items that will make me feel connected. I’m very scent oriented, so the smell of soap and shampoo from New Jersey helped with that thread of continuity.

    Slowly and intentionally, you get familiar with the local area. I have walked my neighbourhood each day, in larger expanding circles. Start with memorizing landmarks, walking a path until things feel familiar and made the associations that will help. The bus stop is right outside my new favourite coffee house. Getting to the grocery store means turning left – no, right – at the end of my driveway and left – yes, left – at the Working Men’s Club. This pub serves food all day, this one only in the evening, and this one never has food. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, all the methodical work is blown away.

    I was expecting it, only because it happened to me each time I moved in the past. I’ll never forget “the moment” when I moved to Mercerville, New Jersey. I had been there for about 4 months and felt confident about my area. Or perhaps it was overconfident. Determined to find a bagel, I hopped into my car and headed to the store I had passed on many occasions. It was only a few miles away, so I foolishly left my GPS off.

    I got lost.

    After 20 minutes and 3 passes by the local Shop Rite, I found it. Pulled into the parking lot, which was surprisingly empty…and realized it had closed about 15 minutes earlier. Oh well, I thought, just head back home.

    I got lost again.

    Finally, I pulled into a parking lot and shut off the car. Apple Maps was taking its time trying to find a connection, so I decided to call my mother. You know, the thing you do when you’re a kid and you’re really upset but you’re trying hard to be brave? She answered the phone, and I’m still not sure she understood the blathering on my end. However, she did sense that this was “the moment” and calmly talked me down. It happens. You reach a point where everything seems to be good, and you are suddenly reminded that you have moved X miles away from home and everything has changed. Then you get over it, and it all settles in.

    When I say I was expecting it, I didn’t think it would come on so early in my time here, or that it would be in this way. I mean, yes, it was (again) food related, but I never would have guessed it would occur in the biscuit aisle of the local Morrisons.

    I stopped in today on my way home from a trip into Manchester. (Went to the cathedral, had a little lunch, it was lovely.) Now that I have a refrigerator, I was giddy with excitement! I picked up fruit, and enough chicken for 2 meals. Cheese, salad mixings – oh! I knew I would be having company tomorrow, so I’d better pick up some nice biscuits to have with tea. (One of the main rules of hosting, I learned within my first 24 hours, is to always offer tea, and have some decent biscuits on hand.) I was even congratulating myself (in my head. That would be weird, saying it out loud in a store. I mean, really.) I had been thinking “biscuits” and not “cookies, wait, no, that’s not what they are called here” which shows how much I have adapted to my new language. I picked some chocolate covered ones with a hint of orange, and then I saw several boxes labelled “ginger”. I do love the taste of ginger. Maybe they would be like ginger snaps. I put them in my basket and cheerfully headed to the self-serve check out.

    Imagine it. I’m scanning my items, looking at the screen to verify, and suddenly the words appear – The Best Ginger Cookies. What? I look at the box. Cookies. I look at the screen. The word is still there. And the reality hit me like a pie to the face. (Not a pie, like the pub pies, with steak and onion and all kinds of delicious flaky crust. One of those creamy pies, like Sara Lee makes.) I really don’t have this all together. It’s not all under control. I am definitely a stranger living in a strange land. So, I did the only thing that could be done at that moment.

    I laughed.

    Because no matter how long it takes for me to adapt, no matter how many times I think I’ve got the changes to a minimum, or apologize because “my American is showing”, it will always be this way. Subtle reminders that I am on the adventure of my lifetime, that I don’t have to be in control of every little thing, and that joy can appear any time, even on a box of cookies (which, by the way, were utterly delicious.)

    And in case you were wondering, I didn’t get lost on the walk home.