Therefore, yes, you guessed it..., these postings of mine shall no longer be titled, 'notes from afloat'. I will continue the notes, yes indeedy, but they will be coming to you from a much more stable place. A place where personal thoughts abound, where beds are wider than 2 feet, where the weather report has no direct effect on the potential churning of stomachs, where simple pleasures like walking in a patch of grass are never taken for granted....i'm talking about a little place called land.
I have been here for a couple of weeks now, and I plan to stay. One more week of Italian land and then it's off to test out the greener pastures of the County Berkshire...England that is....sheep-hearding, Stilton-making, Berkshire pork producing, cider-drinking paradisio. And although I would honestly have nothing against spending a month eating blue cheese, sipping tea, wearing wool sweaters, exclaiming "poppycock," and roaming the lands in knee high boots and burrets in search of wild foul (although my boyfriend may just be doing that)....
I come in search of culinary knowledge. Learn me, Mr. Blumenthal. The opportunity I have been given is to cook and learn in the kitchen of one of the greats, a master of his craft. Why would they take me in? Not sure. But if you are wondering what mischief I will be getting into starting on September 29th...think culinary shammy: the absorber. Boat term. Full circle, folks.
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