London has all its glitzy restaurants, fancy cafes, down-to-earth eateries, supperclubs, private clubs and kitchens. But somehow, the palate wasn't excited. It was the food in Cumbria that really made me look forward to mealtimes. Dunno. Maybe it was the fresh air and exercise. I didn't even care about not having coffee and tea oop northwest. I view all celebrity restaurants with suspicion and am generally not enthusiastic about restaurants holding Michelin stars. (i.e. six visits over two years couldn't convince me to be a fan of El Bulli or Fat Duck) There're other factors at play. I don't appreciate progressive cuisine, for starters, and I get prickly when a restaurant isn't amenable about catering to food preferences. Food on this trip has been glorious. Totally spoilt by the choices available. Am totally reminded what farm-to-table truly means. Over-rated? No. Well, I know what that phrase means. But to taste it in all its succulence, is just fabulous.
As much as I love seeing the Aunts, the bff and my friends, I'm happiest when there isn't a need to hang around central London any longer than required. The city is huge. Plenty of corners for me to hide in. On this trip, the icing was to have spent a huge portion of time in Cumbria, relishing in the freshness of the produce, enjoying the incredibly crisp air, and slowing down the pace to contemplate its breathtaking natural beauty.
It's been a wonderful trip. Till the next time, England.