Full Of Food, Hungry For Sleep
Sleep deprivation creeps and wears hard. The initial euphoria that was the beginning of the press tour in Japan was long gone - we were tired and grumpy. Over worked and over exhausted, me and Corey were corpses by this point; the press trip had spanned around 2 weeks by this point, and we’re talking 6-8 hours of press/travel/etc. a day, then a feast - then 2-4 hours of sleep.
We met in the lobby - my breakfast was a kashi bar (I always pack tons of Clif’s or Kashi, triscuits and nuts on a trip), Corey had nothing. London traffic was intense that day… every 15 minutes of travel took 4 times as long - at Scuzz, I broke down and ate their office cereal dry out of the box due to starvation.
We worked hard that day - busting out press obligation after press obligation, until finally it was dinner time. We didn’t want to get back in a car - the thought of cramming my 6'3-almost frame into a British people carrier sounded revolting… a close walk to Maggie Jones’s for wine and pub food again though? Fantastic.
This was our second time hitting Maggie’s in 3 days; with us we had: Paul Ryan, Kirsten, Danielle, Sami, The Trivs, Justin… Herman Li (Dragon Force) and Gus G (Firewind/ Ozzy) randomly walked passed the window of Maggie’s and came in to say hello (small world, eh?)
We were downstairs this time, the light of the day was slowly dropping down over the London skyline.
We had the house wine that came in giant carafes, starting with the Duck Liver Pate’ and Maggie’s Tart. The pate’ was gamey and good - I am a sucker for gamey flavors, and anything that resembles and pate’ or terrine; Maggie’s tart was not unlike a quiche - a delicately flavored cheese and spinach inside with the toasted almond slivers were a treat.
I saw Kirsten order the Wild Boar Sausages and Mash the first night - and me and Paul knew we needed to share that (we were already sharing everything by this point… me and Paul indulge properly). This was a very modern spin on a classic British staple (or perhaps an even more classical spin on a British classic). The boar meat was again gamey and just right… the char on the sausages caused that “pop” when you bit into it (like the early memories of hotdogs by the pool in summer time) - the mash was mushy in a great way: buttery and whipped up just right.
(By now, I’m sure it’s apparent that as much as I love some seemingly intense or exotic things - I love things that are the most traditional and simplistically memorable) Another pie. Another amazing pie. Chicken and artichoke pie. That flaky, textural lid laid gently on top of the thick, soup-like concoction inside had some simple flavors - but done damn well. The artichoke, chicken, and white cream-sauce inside were heavenly.
We finished our wine, felt the blood rush to our stomachs as we all started getting hazy - then I ordered desert (something I must always have at the end of a great meal with friends and loved ones). Chocolate pot and Bread and Butter Pudding were the closers to our night.
The bread and butter pudding is as iconic as fish and chips, as familiar as bangers and mash, as distinctively British as black pudding and fried eggs - and this bad boy took the cake as being the best dish of the night. Decadent is the only description to this concentrated hunk of cream, eggs, milk, and bread and flour - a thing of greatness.
We met up with our friends from RRInternational, and we bar hopped our final night away.