Crazy old lady

 Well, maybe not crazy.  Eccentric? Either way.

We just returned from England, a wonderful 10 day trip to visit Brian and do the London things we didn't do when we had to cut our trip short when covid reared it's ugly head.  We have anecdotes and stories about everything we did every single day and will talk about them to ourselves and anyone who cares to listen for years. I might bore you with some of them as we go on, but for now let's do food.

I do notice things.  One of the things that fascinated me three years ago was seeing eggs sitting on the shelves right next to the flour and sugar.  Not in the refrigerator section like we keep them here. I was a dog with a bone about it, not letting go.  

How many of you who live not in the U.S. do this?  

I asked the clerk why the eggs are on the shelf?  

"Where else would they be?" was the reply.

I said, "in the refrigerator section."  

"Hmmm." they said and noticed my accent qualified me for being a little "off." 

I had to buy some.  Notice each egg is stamped and one has the crown stamp on it! 

At the checkout I asked the too-young-to-know checkout young man about the eggs.  He laughed and said he keeps his on the counter.  

"For how long?" I asked.  

"Till I use them up," he said. "But I know what you mean," he said.  "My dad lived in the states for awhile and now he gives me a hard time for not keeping my eggs in the refrigerator."  

"But right on the inside of the carton it says to refrigerate them after purchase. So what's the difference?" I asked.  

I am quite sure I am the story that young man told when he got home that night. 

These were the ones I chose.  That shell was very hard, the yolks very dark orange and yes, I brought the carton home with me.  I brought the second carton home with me, too.  

I'm kinda one of those people who sees the possibility in containers.  I have a cupboard in the kitchen full of jars of all sizes because once a package of something is opened the contents are put into a jar. To keep them fresher longer.  Jars of all sorts of sizes and yes, I use them all.  

I kept those little one serving size jars of honey or marmalade and one of ketchup!  I find them very handy for pins, beads, buttons, just little bits. PH just shook his head and told me to pack them in MY suitcase.

And I bought this.  A 3.5 pound bag of flour.  "Why are you buying a bag of flour?" Brian asked.  

"Because I read an article about this young man milling these artisan flours and buying it at Waitrose means we don't have to go to the Cotswolds to get it." I follow this young man's Instagram posts and it's probably a good thing Waitrose didn't have any more varieties or I might have tried to bring those home, too.  

And yes, in anticipation of finding this I packed several zip storage bags so it wouldn't come open in the suitcase. Or if it did it wouldn't ruin everything else in the case.

I brought home two small bottles of Komitroff salted caramel vodka disguised at mouth wash. Brian bought a bottle for me in the Canary Islands but because we were not checking a bag I couldn't bring it home so we drank some every night and then poured some into small bottles (see? save those containers!) so was able to bring SOME home-disguised at mouth wash. 

No, I didn't eat Chocolate Charles but this does qualify as food, doesn't it? Of course it looks just like him and I would bet up close this bust would smell wonderful.  I also wondered what Charles might think of it.  Imagine finding that in your Easter basket.

We had fish and chips, steak and ale pie, sticky toffee pudding, tarts, British cheese toasty - if anyone knows how to make THAT please let me know.  It was fabulous with the cheddar and the bechamel, went to a carvery, on our most tired days got take-out, I cooked a few times and taught Brian how to make scrambled eggs (low and slow.) 

So. Crazy or eccentric?