So this week saw me leave the warm, comforting embrace of my beloved Boston to explore the state of Pennsylvania. Now when I say "warm, comforting embrace," I mean, of course, the flipping cold squeeze of Boston — I was told there would be snow, but was rather under the impression that it usually turned up later than October. The trees are still green, for goodness sake. I am not sure what is happening with the weather, but I do suspect that global warming has a hand in all freaky weather occurrences. I shall be telephoning Al Gore forthwith.
Anyway, rather fortuitously, I have recently become reacquainted with the American branch of my family, which splits its time between Boston and Philly. Whilst my family was visiting from the United Kingdom, we were invited to Pennsylvania to meet the rest of the family and sample the local delights. So I packed up my belongings, including one husband and two parents, and set out like a pioneer exploring a new realm.
For logistical reasons, we were to be collected from a New Jersey train station by my second cousin, who I shall refer to as D-Man. Although we hadn't met, I felt I could not miss a tall Chinese-American man who, I had been told, enjoys a spot of bocking on the weekend — get your minds out of the gutter; bocking is the perfectly respectable activity of jumping around on spring-loaded stilts. Unfortunately, it turns out that D-Man does not wear his bocks while driving, and was therefore slightly less noticeable than expected. Regardless, we successfully managed to rendezvous, and the holiday began.
Unfortunately, it appeared that Philly had also missed the memo about the fall weather, so most of our sightseeing was carried out from the comfort of a warm vehicle. The Liberty Bell and the steps from "Rocky" (1976) done — sorry, Philadelphia Museum of Art — we then decided to eschew the city's famous cheese steak in favor of a home-cooked variety.
Here, I was to learn the many subdivisions of the United States' meat. Luckily for us, the filet mignon marinating at home was of the "prime" variety. Although the technicalities of marbling are beyond me, I think it's fair to say that prime basically means the beef is awesome.
D-Man's Dad, "K," is something of a genius in the kitchen. With absolutely zero fuss, he whipped up a feast for kings with roasted peppers, asparagus, baked potato, sweet potato, salad and rice to complement the steak, along with a deliciously roasted rack of lamb. He also included a variety of local wines from a vineyard visit the day before. All this was rounded off with an apple pie and a pumpkin pie. Luckily, they forgot to put out the butternut squash — I fear I would have popped.
The feast taught me three important lessons: 1. Quality ingredients are crucial, 2. Good home-cooked food beats restaurant fare hands down and 3. I should really stop after the third glass of wine. Still, we all had a wonderful time and the food was out of this world.
The following day we ventured to Amish country. Since it was Sunday, the Amish were mostly in church, but my mother was pleased that she managed to take a few drive-by shots of the Amish people going about their daily business — i.e. staring curiously at strange folk like my mother. We followed this with an all-you-can-eat smorgasbord consisting of multiple appetizers and entrees, rounded off by two Philly cheesecakes, just because we could.
All in all, it was a delectable weekend with wonderful company, and I returned from Philadelphia full in body and soul. Next week: diet tips.
