when one is homesick, it is a good idea to go with the grieving for a while. glossing over some real feelings never does anyone any favours. then again, wallowing never does either. so, having grieved a few days, i will now celebrate some truly english loves.
my daughter, rae. no matter where we live, what accent she has or what culture she decides to adopt, she will always be half english. and a momma’s gotta love that.
marmite. they say you either love it or hate it. and most americans are in the ‘hate it’ category. here’s one yank who cannot get enough of the stuff. my two favourite recipes are: hot, buttered toast with a scraping of marmite and a cup of tea, and pasta with butter and marmite. to die for. if you are a marmite virgin and would like a good, first-time try, make some grilled cheese and put a scraping of marmite on the bread so the cheese melts into it. its fantastic and how i got hooked!
my third english love. monmouth coffee. it tastes amazing. a-mazing. i am a coffee snob and this, my friends, in my–well, honestly it’s not so humble–opinion, is the mecca of quality coffee. not just in taste, but in ethical quality as well. they have relationships with their growers where quality, quantity and price are discussed fairly, equally and openly. then they bring it back to london and roast it up all nice. in a sea of tea, a yankee coffee lover found her dream cup o’ joe. thank you monmouth coffee. i love you.