London, LeBron, Paris and Rome 2010!
A Fond Look Back! Also, Tastebuds Opens in Cork!
Welcome to My 31st Newsletter Friends!
Now that the writers’ strike has ended, I feel comfortable publishing something I began writing months ago. That’s what I call a convenient half-truth! Actually, I haven’t had a moment to write since I opened my Tastebuds food trailer here in Midleton, Cork. I am writing this today, because Storm Agnes is wreaking havoc outside and Ari and I have decided to play hooky from school and work! I am positively giddy that I have finally found time to connect with you!
(That was written September 27th, so obviously it has taken me a while to find time to finish.)
As more Americans than ever are traveling to Europe, I thought it would be good to offer you, my dear readers, two accounts of travel to the same destinations with the same travel company (Insight Vacations), taken at very different periods in my life. My first trip was in 2010 (pictures below on the left!) when I had a nine-year-old restaurant and my second was in July 2023 (pictures on the right!) with my nine-year-old son! Obviously, these trips were entirely different and it’s been really fun looking back through my journals. I hope you enjoy!
In this newsletter, we go back to my first trip to Europe in 2010 and my first time leaving Tastebuds restaurant. My mom and my sister Erin insisted I not miss this once in a lifetime opportunity, having been invited to attend The Oxford Symposium of Food and Cookery, and assured me that they were more than capable of running the restaurant in my absence!
So off I went, flying out of America on Independence Day, as only I would do, on my way to London to meet the friend who invited me. She was the editor of a top culinary magazine and had lured me there with an itinerary full of famous restaurants and beautiful B&Bs on the English Countryside, but when I arrived I found that I had been replaced by a lover she had just met and was left to navigate my way to Oxford on my own. I had four days to fill in London prior to the symposium and I discovered that traveling alone has incredible advantages, like being able to get a great seat at a performance or restaurant last minute, and having waiters dote on you. I tell myself it was because they thought I was famous or a food critic if I was writing in my journal, but it’s more likely that they just felt sorry for me!
Journal Entry
4:30 pm Thursday, July 8th, 2010
Very proud of myself today! I conquered London’s TUBE. I figure I had to, after getting myself so terribly lost on Tuesday night. Everything is so scary when you’re in a foreign country alone, even when the natives speak the same language. Not one person has tried to engage me or even tried to help me when I’ve looked terribly lost. I’m in a pub full of boys where I am having dinner before the theater. They are drinking here because the girls who work here clearly work really hard on their figures as well as their hair and nails! The girls are wearing less and less every time I look up! I’m dying to make conversation mostly about that, but anything will do, but I keep hearing the word Yank being thrown around, always preceded by the word, Fuckin, and so I sit quietly. Makes me wish I had gone to Ireland for this week before Oxford.
Educating Rita
Well, my first thought, other than that the play, Educating Rita (Trafalgar Studios, London’s West End), was worth the entire trip overseas, was that no matter how well-educated a man is, most cannot tolerate a woman surpassing him. During the last two years with Stan (an ex whose name has been changed to protect MY reputation!!!), I have been obsessed with trying to figure out the male ego. I am fascinated with him and his friends, but I will never win over that boy, because my very presence emasculates him.
Oh God! There was so much in that play! Can you become an intellectual without becoming a snob? Can you lose who you are, in becoming who you’d like to be? Did I like the character Rita became? Would she? Will she be happy? Will she have regrets?
I loved my life as a bus girl. Hasn’t owning my own restaurant made me more self-absorbed and tougher than I ever wanted to be? I have enemies now and unbelievable pressure.
Rita was hungry for life and knowledge. She was compassionate and caring and sweet. She became so judgmental and condescending. She was a smoker and a drinker and she loved that her teacher was so imperfect. In the end, she criticized him. We all want to recruit people to our way of thinking and our way of living so we can feel better about the decisions we’ve made.
Misery loves company. I think happiness leaves people alone!
Why do we have this natural urge to convert people to our beliefs and tastes?
To truly be yourself is not possible. You are named straight out of the womb and then comes the rituals of whatever faith your parents have.
It’s funny, the word rebel. To me, a rebel is the only one who’s not pretending. A rebel lives instinctually, and is just doing what comes naturally! I was born a rebel and I will never change!
Journal Entry
July 9th, 2010
I’m on a train from London to Oxford and I can’t help but think how the landscape matches the people, pale and dull. We are so spoiled in Cleveland with our green-blue lake and our fuchsia, magenta, and golden-orange sunsets. Even on our coldest days, the skies turn slate grey or steel blue, and our greens are vibrant and rich. The people of Cleveland are as rich and deep as the colors that surround them.
The sun is white over London, I swear it! The river is brown, the sky is pale blue and the greens are grayish. They boast about their parks, but all I see are sparse trees, not even tall, dotting brownish grass. My God! The first thing I’m going to do when I get home is golf in the Metroparks!
The British are definitely dull and they do seem to have an arrogance about them, but it’s not enough to even bother you! The nicest person I’ve met was my cab driver this morning. The hotel arranged for my taxi and much to my surprise and delight a black Mercedes sedan with tinted windows rolled up and out came Ali, my driver who helped me with my bags (a first in London). We talked about everything from the hotel to Paddington Station. I adored him! He was from Pakistan originally and had lived in London for the past 30 years. He was generous with his smile and his knowledge of the city and of travel in general. He gave me his phone number and said he’d take me out for a drink next time at the best Irish pub in London!
Later
It’s almost 6 pm
The long-awaited Oxford Symposium of Food and Cookery is about to begin and I’m scared to death. Stan’s phone message just meant the world to me. I love that boy so much!
There are college students playing ping-pong just across the garden and I am sure they will look back upon their days here at Oxford fondly, because where they are headed in their life and careers, I doubt they’ll be playing much of anything.
That’s what I am talking about. The more well-educated we become, the more we care what people think of us. We rate our success by the things we can buy and the people we can impress.
Martha Stewart says, “If you have no enemies in business, you’re not very good.” Does Martha seem happy to anyone?
Erin told me today that people are still burning LeBron James jerseys in the streets outside bars in Cleveland. (More on this in my Funny Story below!) I assume Martha would consider him a smashing success. LeBron’s decision to leave Cleveland had to be the hardest decision he had ever made. If he chose with his heart, he’d remain, but he’s climbing that corporate ladder of success. Big money, gold rings, his name in record books, and yet, I’m sad for him. Cleveland’s reaction has no doubt hurt him deeply.
Journal Entry
Last Day of the Symposium.
THANK GOD!!!
I’ve had about all I can take of non-enthusiastic, mostly English authors talking about fermentation and smoked and cured foods and the processes, which they pompously pronounce pro sess sees!
Later
OH MY GOD!!!
Today was the most thrilling, terrifying and exciting day of my life. A couple of hours ago I was part of a wild celebration in the streets of Oxford. Spain beat the Netherlands in the final game of the World Cup. Traffic was stopped entirely on High Street and many others. People climbed up every statue, lamp post and even each other waving those red and gold flags. Horns blowing, hands clapping, and cheers and hugs and kisses everywhere! What a night!
I kissed the English pilot that I had met in the pub earlier, wildly and passionately amidst the chaos, swept up in the excitement, but we were quickly pushed apart by the waves and tugs and twists of the stampede of soccer fans. I never saw him again!
I lost the friends I was with as well, but luckily I ran into a Dutch chef (oddly enough), who was enjoying the festivities despite losing, that was staying in the same dorms as I was and we found our way back together.
When Sebastian and I returned to St. Catherine’s we stood outside the dorms talking till 2:30 am. Who could sleep after all of the excitement? God, we talked about everything! Mostly food and restaurants and the symposium that we had just attended.
I feel both happy and sad that we waited till the last night to bond. Sad because he was fascinating. He was born in the Netherlands and grew up the son of a diplomat in South Africa. He worked as a chef in New York City until a month ago when his restaurant was forced to close.
He was brilliant and so I’m glad we didn’t meet earlier that night because it could have led to something more and I’m not looking for more than friendly conversation. In fact, the only reason I kissed Collin (the pilot!) amidst the joyful emotional rioting was because it would have been a shame not to! We were living history, witnesses to international unity, celebration and victory! WHAT A NIGHT!
I told Sebastian a few of my stories, like about starting Tastebuds, stalking Michael Ruhlman, meeting Thomas Keller and not quite knowing how famous he was, and all my visits to Chef’s Garden. He shared great stories about life as a New York chef! It’s becoming ridiculously clear that I am capable of putting all of this in print and I’ve just been lazy and distracted.
Start writing your book Bridget!
THE TIME IS NOW!
Okay, so let’s talk about the Symposium!
I have never been so in over my head when it comes to the caliber of the authors I have been rubbing elbows and sharing stories and ideas with. These were the ELITE! They wrote the textbooks that are used at culinary schools and the history and science books regarding food and cookery. Lots and lots of PHDs! I’m going to plant myself in the Cleveland Public Library’s food section and pull book after book just looking at the pictures of the authors on the inside covers to see how many of them I recognize from the weekend!
However…some of them were not without elitist attitudes! Oh my God! There was one woman, an American, who made it her job to shatter my self-confidence and it affected me all weekend. She introduced herself rather smugly as an educator, and I should have walked away then! She and her husband made documentaries, needless to say, she was not attending the symposium to meet someone like me!
The entire weekend, I would find myself having a hoot with newfound friends who I would eventually find out were ridiculously important and accomplished authors that even my friend who was presenting there didn’t think it was her place to approach like Harold McGee! I’m telling you, my ignorance of other people’s importance (or possibly, my not giving a fuck!) has brought me much of my good fortune!
I will say though…I have never had to talk myself into something so much. Each break between lectures, meals or receptions would give me an opportunity to high tail it back to my dorm room to hide. Every bathroom break, I would lock myself in a stahl, catch my breath and say to myself silently, “You can do this, you can do this Bridget!”
Every moment was daunting but I saw it through to the end and I survived! Also, I learned more in one weekend than I ever thought possible! Ok! Back to London I go!
Later
Fuck! It’s after midnight and I cannot sleep at all! My mind is racing a million miles a minute with ideas for the restaurant. I guess the phone conversation I had with my mom earlier is what sent my mind racing! She reported that their first day on their own was a huge success, “The busiest Monday, since early May!” she said. It was far too soon for her to congratulate me, but she did anyway! She said that I've done it, that I've taught them all so well that they can run Tastebuds without me. My heart swells with pride and I feel so free suddenly. So with the shackles of the Monday through Friday gig off, I am thinking of 1 million things I wanna do.
I'm bringing back the dinners!!! Of course, I'm moving them to Saturday and once a month rather than every Friday, and family style. My God, it encompasses, all of my passions; BRINGING PEOPLE TOGETHER, SHARING MY KNOWLEDGE, EXPERIENCE AND TASTE, FEEDING PEOPLE, PROVIDING OPPORTUNITIES FOR MY STAFF TO MAKE MORE MONEY, AND SUPPORTING LOCAL, FARMERS AND FOOD PURVEYORS.
God! I'm getting excited again! About everything I've already learned, plus the Oxford, symposium, and I haven’t even set foot in Paris or Rome yet! Imagine how I’m gonna feel at the end of this trip!
But Bridget, you can't stop cooking and working at Tastebuds to write your book. You need that spark and you need that material.
One of my favorite conversations at the Oxford Symposium was with Len Fisher, a brilliant Australian author and educator. I was telling him how my friend could get me a job teaching at a culinary school in New York City that paid well enough that I could live in the city. I told him that it sounded like the opportunity of a lifetime and it could only further my career. Instructors from the school, do seem to find their way onto shows like Top Chef and also the Food Network, which is only one block from the school. But I thought about the students whom I attended culinary school with and the idea of being the target of 18-year-old boys’ ridicule once again, did not appeal to me! Len shook his head and said, “Aww naw, you should take it matey, sounds like a great opportunity, baaaht…oll depends on whot ya wanna do with the rest of ya life!”
It's true… I really don't care to be on the Food Network, only because you don't get to give the love and get the love you do being a chef in your one little restaurant. The opportunity of a lifetime is every time you make people happy with the food you're happy making. Michael Symon misses that, I guarantee. It's true I've never really dreamt about being a teacher, in fact, I hate classrooms. People would learn so much more if classes met at bars or coffee shops. I truly truly believe that. This past weekend in lecture halls with drab walls and uncomfortable chairs, less was learned than in late-night conversations at the bar. Good lord, woman… rewrite that sentence, you did have some pints with those esteemed authors, surely you could've learned how to put a sentence together! Fuck it… It's 2 AM and my tour leaves at 8 AM tomorrow!
Journal Entry
HOLY SHIT!
I didn't sleep at all last night! My last writing frenzy ended at 4:33 AM and my brain still produced thoughts that should’ve been written. I almost blew off the tour that I'm on but it's 20 of 11 (that's how they tell you the time in England!) and I am so glad I came.
When I woke up this morning after two hours sleep at best, I discovered I've gotten my period. Interesting! It does seem that my one sleepless night each month precedes the first day of my cycle. Crazy thing is… I'm usually writing my best thoughts, setting my most ambitious goals and my creativity flows freely. Is it a biological New Year's Eve? The end of a cycle, the hope of more productive conception?
(The following was written from the roof of a double decker, hop on/hop off bus whizzing through the winding streets of London. I can tell my hand couldn’t keep up with my thoughts, but you’ll get the idea of what I’m trying to capture.)
Language history, world history, human history, art, literature, architecture, food history, 007- the spy department of London! I'm thinking that’s the reason. As I am looking at the guards, can't smile can't laugh, I'm understanding the seriousness, hiding emotion. Stiff. Stuffy.
I've given up completely on taking photographs, out of respect for these beautiful buildings, streets, parks, gardens, cars, homes, churches, window displays, park benches, fountains, carriages, horses, guards, tables, chairs, chandeliers, stairways, bicycles, phone booths, gates (WHAT GORGEOUS GATES!), awnings, shops, signs, billboards, train stations, bus stations, subway stations, clocks, alleys, flowers, palaces, statues, memorials, and pubs. How could you not aspire to know every reason why and how everything listed above came to be?
Every two minutes…No! Every two seconds, I am wondering why I know nothing! It's our privilege in America to be ignorant and still make lots of money. We made stupidity glamorous, thank you Paris Hilton, Marilyn Monroe, Adam Sandler, Dan Quayle, and George W! We have rock and rap stars who can't play instruments and famous actors who can’t quote a line of Shakespeare!
Later
I'm sitting at an outdoor café in London's Leicester Square and I can't even adequately describe this absolutely fantastic city. Possibly that is the reason why the English value language and literature more than any other country. I'm starting to think they deserve to be so pompous, what else in the world compares to this city? I imagine people could live here a lifetime, and still find a surprise waiting around the corner.
So many times a day I am so happy I could cry. It's like London is a dish of food that's so rich and delicious you want to dive into it with your bare hands, and lick the plate clean, and every one of your fingertips and still you hunger for more.
I hope that this won't be the only time I'm in London! If Paris does to my heart, and Rome does to my stomach, what London has done to my mind… I will leave Europe one very satisfied woman… might even need to smoke a cigarette at the airport!
We need better leadership in Cleveland and some tough love. London has taught me that infrastructure is everything, infrastructure and safety. We have world-class arts and culture venues, but no safe and easy way to get to them for tourists or locals without a car.
Journal Entry
July 13th, 2010
SWAN LAKE
THIS WAS THE BEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE, AND I HAVE NO ONE TO SHARE IT WITH. A TEAR JUST ROLLED DOWN MY CHEEK. THERE IS ONE MORE ACT, AND I SWEAR TO GOD, I'M GOING TO GIVE MYSELF A HEART ATTACK, HAVING TO SIT STILL AND HOLD MY TONGUE WHILE I AM BURSTING WITH EXCITEMENT AND AMAZEMENT!
After a lovely Curry dinner, I arrived at the London Coliseum a bit early and tucked into the Starbucks across the street to kill some time. I thought I was just imagining that all of the motorbikes that were passing were paparazzi, but later I discovered that many celebrities from London and America have come out for this Russian Ballet premier performance. Good for them! Why wouldn't you be here if you could? It's the best of everything here in London. OK, maybe not the food, we've all got to have one shortcoming.
Its opening night and the audience is buzzing with sightings of Hugh Grant, and I just met eyes with Sidney Poitier in the champagne lounge! From behind and with the crowd flocking toward him, I thought it was Nelson Mandela! I wondered who else could get away with wearing jeans and a long white tunic to such a performance! I swear to God, he smiled at me like he knew me! Sidney Poitier! Mister Tibbs! Unbelievable!!!
1 am
Again… I can't sleep. I'm wired and unable to come down after the highs from my evening. When I got back to the hotel, all I could think of was how fortunate I am to have seen that performance. It was, without a doubt, the most moving and beautiful thing a group of human beings has ever done! I thought also about my former favorite performance, Leonard Cohen, and now I'm not so surprised, considering those glorious girls singing back up were from Kent, England.
As I got ready for bed, I started humming ‘Dance Me to the End’ and picturing those Russian dancers in my head. When I got into bed, I remembered that I brought a Leonard Cohen CD with me, and in no time I was lying in bed listening to it. It was number nine on the CD. During song number 11, I was really trying to listen to the words because with headphones, you hear so much more and… THERE IT WAS!!! A moment that sent shivers up my spine and gave me goosebumps. One of those magical coincidences that seems so common place in my life. The lyrics, hearing them clearly for the first time in my life.
“Yeah, and I've seen your flag on the marble arch, but listen love, love isn't some kind of victory march. No, it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.”
Hallelujah… The bed I am laying in, the hotel I am staying in… I'm staying at the Thistle Marble Arch Hotel! I can see the marble arch from my window. I mean… I sprung from my bed! I turned on the light, and looked in the mirror, and asked, "All right, what am I here on Earth to do God? I'm hearing You! You're speaking to me through all of these magical moments and delightful coincidences. You've got my attention! I hope I don't disappoint. I know I sound crazy and full of myself, but I know I was born to do Your will! I just don’t know what it is You want me to do yet!
Journal Entry
Wednesday, July 14th 2010
I just had another dreaded English breakfast, just terrible, disgusting really! I'm going on nine days now of eating, dried out gamy sausages, hash browns, like McDonald's serves, watery, scrambled eggs, runny fried eggs, leathery ham, bland beans, and flavorless mushrooms and tomatoes for breakfast. I really believe that cooks are forbidden to use any seasonings!
In direct contrast to my breakfast this morning, my dining companions were anything but bland. Out of 150 people in the dining room only three seemed to be American, and everyone else was from somewhere in the Middle East! 95% of the women wore burqas and some were covered in black from head to toe, but most were wearing beautiful colors with intricate designs and gold or silver trim. A man sat next to me in a long, bright white robe wearing a rich ruby-colored turban.
I want so much to have coffee with some of them and learn what I can about their cultures. After reading Khaled Hosseini’s, A Thousand Splendid Suns, I was left wanting to know so much more. Much time is wasted on fear in the human experience, and some fear leads to hatred. The toddler next to me had scrambled eggs all over his face from his Arab mother getting him to eat his eggs just the same way Americans do, by playing airplane with the spoon. It's so sad and totally unfair that my mind immediately went to 911. George W. sure did a job on us, using the media to convince us that anyone from the Middle East is a threat and somehow connected to the terrorist attack on America. Being in this hotel, I see Arabs as loving families having the same trials and tribulations as all of us.
Later
I'm having dinner in Notting Hill at the cutest little Italian Café and Frankie Valli’s ‘My Eyes Adore You’ is playing in Italian, and I am so moved, and so happy! This is the best dining experience I've had in London, and it was so totally random. I came out of my hotel and just started walking in the Marble Arch area, which is known for great shopping. There were way too many people, kinda like Chicago's Magnificent Mile on steroids. So, I hopped on the Tube. With no particular destination, riding the tube is like playing the lottery. I put my money on Notting Hill, and here I am… Jackpot! While the area is known for antique shops, it is mostly known for its Carnival celebration because it has a huge Caribbean population. Only I would love it for its tiny little Italian Café called Sugo!
So, my last night in London. What an incredible place. I really intend to do this trip every 10 years if I can!
To Be Continued!
Funny Story
Being my first trip to Europe and traveling alone, I grappled with jet lag for my first few nights in London. One night I popped on the telly at 5am and the Larry King show was showing images of an angry mob starting small fires, and I swear the caption said “Live from Lakewood, Ohio.”
I frantically fumbled in the dark for my eyeglasses as I had already removed my contact lenses. I was in a panic to find them thinking, “Oh my God! Something horrible is happening in my hometown, where my parents still live and I am almost 4,000 miles away. Unable to find them, I scooted to the foot of the bed and squinted at the TV.
Indeed, they were filming at The Winking Lizard in Lakewood, Ohio, and the fires being set were LeBron James jerseys! Having just seen the play, Educating Rita, I felt there was more to contemplate and consider, unlike his former fans in Lakewood. “Is LeBron losing a piece of his soul, doing what’s best for his career?” He said his heart belongs to Cleveland, it’s his home, it’s comfortable and the fans have given him so much.
Should life offer these kinds of difficult choices? We were put on Earth to eat, drink and procreate. There was plenty and it was pure. Man created this need for wealth, so then we created ways to make money. We created schools and government and in a sense, created our own misery!
I’m torn, God dammit! LeBron was basically saying that a gold ring and a championship mean more than the love in his heart when he took his talents to Miami. In 2010, I left my restaurant and the city I love (be it, temporarily) to better my career. I was scared to death of the Oxford Symposium and meeting top chefs and food writers. I’d of much preferred to be having a cookout in Stan’s backyard, playing cornhole, and drinking a beer while the hot dogs and bratwursts roast on the grill! But looking back, I am so glad I went. I learned so much and gained much needed experience.
Ten years later, I lost my restaurant and left my home, family and the city I love to give my son a safe, happy and care free childhood. Living a fulfilling life and trusting your gut is never easy, but so worth it in the end. And, like LeBron…you can always come back and take your hometown to new heights that were not possible before you left!
Side Note…
Many years after “The Decision,” (LeBron James’) aired on ESPN, Abaz and I were in Miami visiting friends. I was pregnant with Ari and on our first day there, I was drinking a virgin piña colada, floating on my back in a swimming pool surrounded by palm trees and I thought to myself, “Why are we all mad at Lebron? Because most of us have never been to Miami I guess! And none of us have ever been a rich, famous, twenty-three-year-old free agent!
At that moment, I was actually touched that it was a hard decision for LeBron and my respect for him and my pride in Cleveland actually grew!
And Finally…
Tastebuds Opens in Cork!
Even though I had planned only to be open Monday through Thursday to allow me to dedicate Fridays exclusively to writing, and my weekends to Ari, I decided to officially open on Saturday, August 26th, because it has always been an extremely lucky day for me! As fate would have it, a journalist just happened to be walking by with his mother and a friend of hers while Ari was passing out free samples of our Signature Greek Pasta and amazingly, we ended up in the CorkBeo Newspaper! If you click on the link to the newspaper, there is an adorable picture of Ari in front of the trailer!
Talk about hitting the ground running, I was immediately busy as a result! Quite a shock to the system, after spending 3 years writing from my cozy couch with feet up and warm coffee in hand after a bit of yoga! As if that weren’t lucky enough, a radio station reached out for an interview days later and I found myself on a wildly popular talk show on Cork’s 96FM, The Opinion Line with PJ Coogan. Initially I was asked to call into the program to talk about Tastebuds Food Trailer, but the night before my interview I was told that the host had done a deep dive into my Substack Newsletter and wondered if I would be comfortable telling my story of coming to Ireland to escape the random gun violence in America. Here’s the link! (Weird title, but I’ll take it!)
My first two weeks were wonderful, but it should be mentioned that the weather was gorgeous, the road work had not yet begun, and many of my customers were my friends and neighbors showing up to generously support me. Week three started with jackhammers tearing up the road in front of my trailer, dump trucks and excavators whirling around me and the partial closure of the car park that I am in. Like so many things that go wrong in my life, my misery is short lived as I remind myself that it’s all a part of the experience and it’s all good material and necessary for my book/movie!
Here’s a clip!
I guess this would be a good time to ask. If you haven’t already upgraded to supporting my work with a paid subscription, now would be ideal as my need is greater than ever. I truly appreciate it and I swear, you will be handsomely rewarded for your generosity some day!
THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE WITH ME MY FRIENDS!
Cheers!
Bridget