Ye Olde English Feaste

It seems our trip to the U.K. this past summer has had some unforeseen consequences.  Like the urge to purchase bagpipes, or midnight checkings of British Airways for cheap tickets to London, or randomly wearing kilts.  (Andrew's Note: Ok wait, at least 2/3 of that already happens all the time!) And then there's the food.  We like to eat.  We like to eat sticky toffee pudding.  And we ate sticky toffee pudding at every restaurant from London to York to Oxford (Also in Edinburgh!).  So as you can imagine, when our friends, the Heberts and the Wests, suggested that we have an 'Olde English Feaste,' we almost peed in our pants.  Any excuse to eat more sticky toffee pudding is a good one.  And we like the Heberts and the Wests, but let's be honest, it was really about the sticky toffee pudding. 

First thing's first: to have a truly authentic English Feaste, you need twinkle lights and snowflakes.

And lots of "e's" at the ends of wordes.  

Ande friendes who are awesome.


Natalie decorated.  It was magical.  Twinkle lights and candles make everything magical right?  (As do twine-bound oranges)

Having my own orange with my name on it made be absurdly happy.  I need a vacation.

The menu was pure awesomeness.  I've included the recipes for the three nerds who actually read this blog, Adrie.....cough.  (Wait, I guess just the one, then.)  The Heberts roasted Cornish Game Hens and served Mulled Wine.  The Wests brought Sausage and Herb Stuffing and Roasted Brussel Sprouts and Veggies.  We brought Ale and Cheese Soup and Sticky Toffee Pudding.  (I like to call the last one "Butter, Sugar, Butter, and Sugar")

Good thing I ran the day before.  It was absurdly delectable.  Really.  I was sad that I couldn't finish my Sticky Toffee Pudding because I ate so frikin much of everything else.   

And the company was pretty awesome too.  We love the West's and the Hebert's.  (Webert's)

They get us.

Usually once every few months we all try out exotic international restaurants in Houston that only locals of that particular country eat at. (They're usually in little strip centers back behind those prepositions ;-)  If we're the only Caucasians in the place it pretty much qualifies as great.  The sketchier, the better.  Othertimes we've done international food nights at someone's house, each of us brings a dish from another country.  No American-ness allowed.

The Weberts's are not allowed to move away until we move away.   

Christina West brought Christmas Crackers, and we had a jolly time pulling them, having them not pop, and finding the gifts inside.  Not going to lie, I really wanted that pirate eye-patch that Christina's had.  We each also got a paper crowns.  And we wore them. 

Andrew's so excited about his Christmas Cracker that he's moving twice the speed than the rest of us.

Stephen and Natalie.  This picture really sums up the Heberts.  (To a "T".  Water, oranges, small plastic tops, and paper crowns.  They are passionate about all of those things.)

I'd explain what we're talking about here... but it ain't PG.  ("Ye Olde Pe Ge)

This WAS the Sticky Toffee Pudding.

She ate it.

Yay for good friends... and food... and twinkle lights.

Check out Natalie's blog later in the week for some much better pictures of this.  She does the photography thing like no one else.  http://nataliehebert.net/

(I'd like to end with irritatingly pointing out that there is only one kilt reference in this entire post and I was wearing one this evening.  I feel like it needs more coverage.  (actually your knees did...)  In the spirit of Commonwealth Unity, I decided to represent more northerly factions of an Old English Feaste.  Any excuse to put it on, really.  There were apparently no pictures of me, so let me tell you it looked awesome.  I appreciate the fact that most of my friends, coworkers, and students are thoroughly fine with me wearing it around.  When I wore it to school during the day I used to get blank stares, inappropriate questions, not-so-subtle snickers, and kids outright running the opposite direction.  Now they are not at all surprised and I'm usually greeted with a smile, a shake of the head, and the occasional "Oh, Mr. Redmon."  

I bestow my gift of culture to you all. 

You're welcome.