Saturday, 25 October 2008
King Cobra
How y'all doin'? Well, I'm back in Blighty and talkin' like a native Arkansasian. I had a wonderful time and ate some great food, of which more later. I saw my first College Football game (Go Reddies!), which included a pre-game ritual, 'Tailgating' where I drank good Southern beer, even better Southern Bourbon and ate a delicious Louisanan 'Dirty Rice' in 75 degree sunshine.
To try and assuage my post-USA blues, I took myself off to Rushomle and the Sri Lankan delights of King Cobra. I had a hot "Fish Chilli' and rice.
While it blunted my depression, it was the Cobra beer that really took the edge off. I will leave you with a view of Arkadelphia and and the B&B I stayed at.
Captain Hendersons' House, Arkadelphia, ARK
B&B seems such an inadequate term for such a magnificent building and just look at that sky. The breakfasts weren't too bad either, courtesty of Miss Vicky. And thankfully, not a sign of Stephen Fry anywhere.
Sunday, 5 October 2008
Ted's Montana Grill, Atlanta
Well, chums, it's been some time since my last post and this is only a taster in that I'm still stuck on number 40. I've moved flat, started a new term and am preparing another visit across the pond, this time to Arkansas. Reports of this on my return no doubt. On my last trip I had an unscheduled stopover in Atlanta due to an act of God. According to Delta check-in, this meant I could bill he-who-art-in-heaven for my hotel. He also blessed me with the travelling companion from hell for the duration of my enforced stay in what is, normally, a fantastic city. Discretion (and my therapist) prevents me from giving out any futher details.
Ted's is part of the Ted Turner empire, which includes CNN, the Atlanta Braves and a heavy investment in large parts of Jane Fonda (which failed to turn a descent profit). He also owns a large ranch where he breeds Bison- which leads me neatly to the food at his Montana Grill.
I lunched on a moist Bison meatloaf and washed it down with several glasses of a fine New World pinot noir to ease the pain of the unwanted company of the witch sat across the table. Back at the Airport, I fled to a waiting connection to Paris, leaving the witch demanding immediate transportation direct to Manchester. They should have given her a broomstick.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)