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By Kate, 1 May 2009 2:37 pm

I miss Washington College a lot today.

I tend to miss it a lot, and not in the way that I want to go back and live it again, because reading The Great Gatsby often enough (and, you know, living life) will pound into your head that such things aren’t possible. No. I miss it more in the way of remembering how awesome a time I had for four years and then being a bit jealous of myself, and then a little annoyed because maybe I didn’t appreciate it quite as much as I should have at the time. But no one ever does, because if they’re anything like me, they’re having too much fun to notice. As it should be.

May Day, just like Birthday Ball, is a major Washington College holiday. For those of you who have no idea of the traditions of my alma mater (and why should you?), May Day is generally known as a time of naked dancing around the flagpole. Usually at midnight. And usually large quantities of alcohol are involved. But I don’t really associate May Day with nudity alone. (I never did participate in that particular element anyway.) I associate it more with the general happiness that the semester is over, your work is (mostly) done, and it’s time to sit on Middle porch with some beer and some friends and some bullshit. And one year, a makeshift barbecue of Foreman grill proportions. I feel like that’s a particular feeling you don’t get very often in life, and even less so outside of college.

In any case, because I’m at work waiting impatiently for the metaphorical bell to ring so I can get on a train to London for a weekend break, I’m wiling away my time trolling through the WAC website looking at all the stuff I miss about sunny Chestertown. And pining. Maybe not for my college days in particular, but just for that ‘Hey, it’s summer and this beer is good and I’m not really concerned about anything else right now’ feeling. Because it’s a good one.

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By Kate, 5 March 2009 1:17 pm

I made some red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese frosting to bring into work for my birthday yesterday. I should have taken pictures, but I’m not yet used to this ‘recording stuff for the blog’ thing. It was a recipe from Bake by Rachel Allen. I’d never made red velvet cake from scratch before, so I was a little worried at first, especially because it’s kind of a crazy recipe with a lot of steps (and bowls), but they turned out well. And I ate two of them during the day before I even got a piece of the birthday cake Scott made me. It was his first ever from-scratch cake, Chocolate Stout Cake from Green & Blacks Chocolate Cookbook, one of my favorites (the book and the cake), and he did a flawless job.

We ate some before we went out for dinner, which may have been a bad plan, because dinner involved quite a bit of food. I didn’t know where we were going til we got there because I wanted a surprise, so all day I was wondering what kind of tasty stuff I was in for. We went to The Outsider on George IV Bridge.

According to reviews on The List, More than a few people have not been impressed with the service, but we had absolutely no problem. They had a weird policy of having to take outdoor coats to the coat room, but aside from that, our waitress was lovely and the rest of the staff I encountered were quite normal. But lets get to the important stuff.

They clunked a plate of bread and dipping oil down in front of us before we even had menus, which bodes well with me, especially in this country where you rarely ever get bread for free. I ordered a bottle of Australian shiraz, don’t remember what kind it was now but it was excellent.

The Outsider doesn’t do traditional starters. Instead they have various plates of skewers (or ‘Chunky Healthy Lines’). We got the monkfish with bacon, roasted tomato, and salsa, which also came with salad and a carroty-raisiny coleslaw type concoction in a pita. There were two enormous hunks of monkfish on my skewer and, because of the cake I’d already eaten, I was worried about getting through my main course. The fish was cooked perfectly, and I got extra tomatoes because Scott is not a fan.

For the main course, I ordered venison in juniper berries with barley and steamed greens. Scott got half a rabbit with prune and calvados sauce and parsnips. We also ordered a side dish of sweet potatoes in cumin-y spices and pumpkin seed to share, which was absolutely unnecessary given the size of the main dishes, but I ate some anyway because they were lovely.

My venison was perfect. The light in the place was too low for me to tell for sure, but I’m fairly sure it was nearly rare, because it melted in my mouth. I ate all the greens, per usual, and I would have eaten all the barley had I not been stuffed to capacity. Scott’s rabbit was a bit dry and the sauce was a little overwhelming for him. I tasted it. Not awful, but not the best rabbit I’ve ever tasted. Then again, I’ve only ever had it in a stew-type pie thing, so who knows what it’s meant to be like? Anyway, I definitely picked the better dish this time. Usually it’s the other way around. There was a pork belly confit on the menu that we both wished we could have tasted as well.

We had absolutely no room for dessert, so instead we went to the Bow Bar on Victoria Street for some whisky. They’ve got 145 malts! First I had a 16 year-old double matured Lagavulin, which was about £6. Nice, warm and rich. Scott had some Blair Athol whichw as a bit lighter. I’m no good at tasting notes when it comes to this stuff, but I know what I like, and what I like tends to be Islay malts. Peaty, strong and delicious. A lot of people can’t handle the stuff. That’s not meant as a boast, I’m just saying, for reference, that I like things that other people tend to think they could run their car on.

We had a pint each after that as we sat there staring at the wall of whisky, and Scott said ‘why didn’t you get a 25 year-old whisky for your 25th birthday’? We eyed a 25 year-old Laphroaig on the top shelf and decided to share it, because what the hell? It was £18, but worth it. I know grown men who have issues with Laphroaig 10 year because it’s like drinking smokey, alcoholic peat (so naturally, I love it), but this was really mellow. That extra 15 years really takes the edge off.

All in all, an awesome way to turn 25. And on top of it, Scott got me some nice balsamic vinegar, a salami flavored with white truffle, and some epic argyle knee socks. (I am a fan of long, crazy socks. Especially in the winter.)