Day four: pottering about
That's not a Harry Potter reference, in case you were wondering ... We just seemed to spend most of Thursday doing little bits and pieces around the city.
The original plan had be to attend a debate at the Scottish Parliament and go round Our Dynamic Earth (a museum of which I've heard endless good), but in the end we did neither, the former because we reckoned it would be a bit dead because of the general election (a view perhaps unfounded, but Philippe isn't particularly into politics) and the second was horribly expensive so we decided against.
We'd spent the morning at home, Philippe poring over the list of sausages he got from the butcher on day two. We knew what our parents wanted him to take back, so he just needed to work out how much he should get for himself; scaling it down took a while, though even so he still ended up placing an order for 8 kilos (a little short of 16lbs) for collection the next day, when it'd provide a break from preparing for the party, which was what I did with my morning.
The success of my flatwarming, back in January, is something I attribute to all sorts of things, but the one comment that stuck to mind afterwards was how good the food was. For me, the occasion as a whole had put to rest my mixed feelings about large parties, vindicated by the effort I'd put into preparing interesting food, so there was no doubt in my mind that I should do the same this time round. The only dish to put in a repeat appearance was the Viennese washerwomen - or Wiener Wäschemädeln, though "Viennese laundry maids" would be a more accurate translation: they're apricots soaked overnight in your choice of spirits (rum's always a good bet), then stuffed with marzipan, battered and deep-fried - as people had been clamouring for more, but that aside, it was back to the drawing board. (More about the menu in the entry for Friday, otherwise I'll have very little to say there.)
Anyhow, we then walked gently to more or less the other side of town so Philippe could at least see the Scottish Parliament and Our Dynamic Earth. After lunch, we got on a bus to Easter Road with two aims in mind: showing Philippe where I lived before getting my own place and popping into B&Q to get the necessary for making a frame for the piece of Chinese cloth I wanted to hang up in the hall. On the way home I insisted on going into Valvona & Crolla, the Edinburgh delicatessen par excellence, as I wanted to get a bottle of raspberry liqueur which only they seem to have. We spent the next couple of hours at home, after which we headed out for a quick pint before choir rehearsal.
I'd warned Philippe about this ages before he came and he hadn't seemed altogether keen, though I hoped he might come round by tonight. He didn't, insisting he had no interest in rehearsing with us, all the more so as he wouldn't have an opportunity to sing in a service (he'd be leaving on Saturday), so I didn't force the issue, despite being a little disappointed. As expected, however, his being there proved worthwhile as he joined us for drinks afterwards and had a great time. From my perspective, it made sense for him to meet some of my friends before the party so he wouldn't be thrown in at the deep end, so I was glad it came off.
And that was it for Thursday. Friday was to be taken up almost entirely by preparations for the party: Philippe was rather taken aback that I had allowed a whole day for this, but as it turned out, it was with good reason. I'm not one to do good catering by halves ...
The original plan had be to attend a debate at the Scottish Parliament and go round Our Dynamic Earth (a museum of which I've heard endless good), but in the end we did neither, the former because we reckoned it would be a bit dead because of the general election (a view perhaps unfounded, but Philippe isn't particularly into politics) and the second was horribly expensive so we decided against.
We'd spent the morning at home, Philippe poring over the list of sausages he got from the butcher on day two. We knew what our parents wanted him to take back, so he just needed to work out how much he should get for himself; scaling it down took a while, though even so he still ended up placing an order for 8 kilos (a little short of 16lbs) for collection the next day, when it'd provide a break from preparing for the party, which was what I did with my morning.
The success of my flatwarming, back in January, is something I attribute to all sorts of things, but the one comment that stuck to mind afterwards was how good the food was. For me, the occasion as a whole had put to rest my mixed feelings about large parties, vindicated by the effort I'd put into preparing interesting food, so there was no doubt in my mind that I should do the same this time round. The only dish to put in a repeat appearance was the Viennese washerwomen - or Wiener Wäschemädeln, though "Viennese laundry maids" would be a more accurate translation: they're apricots soaked overnight in your choice of spirits (rum's always a good bet), then stuffed with marzipan, battered and deep-fried - as people had been clamouring for more, but that aside, it was back to the drawing board. (More about the menu in the entry for Friday, otherwise I'll have very little to say there.)
Anyhow, we then walked gently to more or less the other side of town so Philippe could at least see the Scottish Parliament and Our Dynamic Earth. After lunch, we got on a bus to Easter Road with two aims in mind: showing Philippe where I lived before getting my own place and popping into B&Q to get the necessary for making a frame for the piece of Chinese cloth I wanted to hang up in the hall. On the way home I insisted on going into Valvona & Crolla, the Edinburgh delicatessen par excellence, as I wanted to get a bottle of raspberry liqueur which only they seem to have. We spent the next couple of hours at home, after which we headed out for a quick pint before choir rehearsal.
I'd warned Philippe about this ages before he came and he hadn't seemed altogether keen, though I hoped he might come round by tonight. He didn't, insisting he had no interest in rehearsing with us, all the more so as he wouldn't have an opportunity to sing in a service (he'd be leaving on Saturday), so I didn't force the issue, despite being a little disappointed. As expected, however, his being there proved worthwhile as he joined us for drinks afterwards and had a great time. From my perspective, it made sense for him to meet some of my friends before the party so he wouldn't be thrown in at the deep end, so I was glad it came off.
And that was it for Thursday. Friday was to be taken up almost entirely by preparations for the party: Philippe was rather taken aback that I had allowed a whole day for this, but as it turned out, it was with good reason. I'm not one to do good catering by halves ...
posted by Anthony at
23:58
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