Sunday Roast & Yorkshires

The sun came out today. Until the moment that I walked out my door and squinted into the bright light, I hadn’t realized that it’s been overcast for my entire stay. Even now, there was a very thin layer of clouds. Everything looked a little different, just like it had the first time I stayed out after dark.

the sun!

the sun! …sortof

It inspired me to set out in a different direction. I usually walk straight down my hill, towards the non-residential part of town. Today, I decided to cut over up the hill through some neighborhoods first. The views were spectacular and made me realize how hilly Brighton actually is. I also discovered that most streets were actually U’s that eventually looped back around to a main street. It’s very hard to get used to cities not being laid out on grids.



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I had been looking at google maps a few days earlier and noticed a cafe that was fairly nearby and in the new direction I was currently exploring. As it turns out, a “cafe” can mean many things here, and rarely a coffee shop. Elm Grove Cafe turned out to be a sortof English version of a diner. Breakfast all day, sandwiches and stuff. I still stopped in and grabbed a coffee to go, just to have a look indoors. I’m not sure whether I’ll be paying a visit to try the fare in the future. I did notice some other interesting neighborhood spots though that I’ll investigate some evening, like The Hartington and The Wellington. Actually, I noticed that  “Hartington” and “Wellington” are the names of the streets that these places are located on, respectively… and the Franklin, where I visited on Sunday, happens to be located on Franklin.

The Wellington (a nearby pub)

The Wellington (a nearby pub)

I’d been hearing about a neighborhood called Kemptown, so today I tried to find it. The directions I got from a barista were the typical British vagueness: “You know the main pier, the big one? Well you come off that and take a right, and then after a bit you go sortof up the street and that’s it.” I improvised a little, and did find an interesting neighborhood. I was able to confirm later that the place I found was, in fact, Kemptown. It was really gorgeous, because between each block was a straight shot to the ocean.

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The shops all looked interesting, although since it was Sunday most seemed to be closed. The restaurants all looked good, too, and I had trouble deciding where I wanted to eat. I decided to go with the place that was almost full at 3:30 in the afternoon. It was called Cornel’s, and it had a wheelbarrow sitting out front on the sidewalk. I really don’t mean to make this a food blog, but dinner is usually the best part of my day. It’s also been the only time that I’ve exchanged words with another human being lately. Til tonight I hadn’t seen my roommates in almost a week, and haven’t really met a lot of people yet. So, placing an order (and occasionally explaining where I’m from) is the extent of my human face-to-face interaction on a day-to-day basis. I didn’t notice it at first, but it’s starting to feel really strange.

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Now, all week I’ve been noticing signs advertising sunday roast. Every restaurant and pub seems to advertise it. And, it finally being Sunday, it was my turn to try it. I ordered the chicken roast, and it was… quite a lot of food.

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But it was delicious. I don’t know if you can see the circular things on top there, but I had no idea what they were. After eating one, the waiter came by to see how everything was. When I pointed to the remaining circular thing on the plate and asked him what it was, he looked at me like I was crazy. He didn’t even answer me for a few seconds, then told me it was yorkshire pudding. I asked him what yorkshire pudding is, and he explained that it’s flour and water and egg that is baked and all sortof rises. Then he asked me if I was American. I guess people don’t realize that right away. Perhaps I should drop a few more “Howdy!”s into my conversations.

I finally saw my roommates again tonight. It was really nice, I missed them.  I had a good time catching up with Alec, and when Alice got home (from London) we watched The Fighter and ate dinner. They had made enough to share… another Sunday roast, pork belly with cracking and more yorkshires. It was even better than the first.


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