So I’ve locked myself in this gorgeous little attic cottage on top of a country estate house in Lincolnshire. I have some work to do, and thought I’d get away, rejuvenate, and stop letting myself get distracted with the spoils of London.



I have a Taste & Travel deadline zooming in, and quite a bit of work on my thesis. I’ve been here 3 and a 1/2 days now, and have been pretty productive. It’s also been a while since I have had a kitchen. I’ve been on the move for almost two months now, and although I’ve just taken on a room in a place in Victoria Park starting mid April, I needed to just stop for a bit.


It’s been lovely. My tiny town has a few farms, a couple of houses, and a little old post office (complete with yapping dog). I rode my bike over to the farm store on the first day, and loaded up my basket with local pork pies, apple pies, Oak Smoked Lincolnshire Poacher cheese, Bramble Jam and piles of fresh vegetables.



Yesterday Husni came up from London to visit. We wandered around the closest ‘big’ town, Boston, and checked out the windmill. I went to pick up some bread and some more fruit pies, and came across a Yorkshire Curd Tart. I hadn’t heard of them before, so had to give one a try. Tart but sweet, flavoured with orange peel and currants in a rich buttery crust, they were delicious!




We had the afternoon to kill, so decided to drive around. Husni just picked up his new car, so we did the only thing you should do in a brand new Porsche – drive down potholed, narrow and muddy farm roads into the middle of nowhere.



We got to the end of the road just as the sun was on its way down. The light is beautiful out here.






We head back into town and stopped into a local pub for dinner for a typical English pub roast and a dessert of Spotted Dick Pudding with custard. I flipped the menu to the wine list, and shocked, asked Husni, ‘that is just a mildly expensive GLASS of wine, right, not for the whole bottle?’. It was for the whole bottle, so we might have ordered a couple. It’s funny how quickly I adapt to London prices, thinking a US$40 cheeseburger is an ok price to pay.


I have a few more days out here, my fridge is full of pies and local cream and yorkshire puddings. I’m stocked up to write and not leave this attic – so more from me after Wednesday when I plan to go to the local woods and go to the big food market in Boston.