England, October 2009

I landed at Heathrow at noon, unrested and hungry. Bob Palin, my "significant other" (what a horrid title for someone who is practically family) had made all the arrangements for this trip.... car, airlines, logistics.


The fact that United Airlines cancelled our direct flight shortly after we booked it didn't lighten Bob's mood. Neither did their refusal to change the booking from inconvenient Denver (the recently departed departure point) to Salt Lake City.... the airline also made check-in a fiasco. I couldn't resist snapping a shot of the grump in character. He claims to be just " messing around" in this photo.


Our trip is for his mum who is turning 80 next week. She has planned the whole party for 60 guests herself, right down to buying the cases of wine, writing and mailing the invitations, choosing the flowers and booking the venue. She has an impressive energetic style about her, which would wear most people out.

This is my second trip to England, this time with a native. It's going to be the trip of a lifetime. I plan to write a magazine article covering my quest to find a place that meets the "Janet test". A pub with authentic ambience, excellent dark locally brewed stout and fabulous vegetarian food. It's a quest.



We launched out of the airport carpark on the wrong side of the road with Bob behind the wheel of a puke green Ford Fiesta. He skillfully whisked us toward Swaffham onto the M25, direction of "The North", a dual carriageway. How British.


But first, we made a quick stop in Luton to see Bob's childhood home. I snapped a shot out the window as Bob cast a brief glance at number 13 Saint Luke's Close. He sped around the cul-de-sac and drove on. Did I miss something or is that considered a visit?

I have to admit I didn't complain much because it was way past lunchtime and I needed to start my quest for the ultimate vegetarian pub experience immediately. Bob knew just the place.

The Millstream Pub in Hitchin is a classic country pub. Classy, but old. Clean but full of character. Not fancied up too much. A selection of ales and porters on tap, and a chalkboard covered wth today's specials hovered over the bar. Jessica the barmaid took our order and served us promptly. I opted for the locally-brewed McMullan AK ale, a dark amber, slightly sweet beer. Paired with a black bean burger, hot English mustard and a perfect baked potato (jacketed) the entire experience cast a shadow of suspicion on my quest. Had I already found the perfect pub experience? Was my quest going to be so simple it would cease to be a quest at all?


The exterior of Millstream was nothing special, lending credence to the authenticity of the place. I can't say I've ever had a better black bean burger. Crisp on the outside, but not charred, served on a flour "bap" which is a soft white roll. Nothing exists quite like it in the US. "What's a bap?" I asked Bob, after I scanned the menu. He must have considered the question inane. "It's white, always." The rest I figured out myself, once the burger and bap were in front of me. Bob is helping me become smarter that way.

Down the street was a more photogenic pub. No time to stop.
On the way to Swaffham we passed dozens of pubs, all beckoning to me, like the Castle Anthrax in Monty Python's Holy Grail. Sometime in the next three weeks, I imagine I'll find a reason to complain about British food.... but so far I'm embarrassed about the general quality of US restaurants. Thank goodness my niece is going to the Culinary Institute of America. She needs to come to England before she graduates and get a taste of this incredibly underappreciated culinary experience. Cheers!