annieology

Disclaimer:  My brother in law, He Chef, works for Wolfgang Puck.  AND @jamie_oliver does not follow me on Twitter.

The moment it was revealed that we had went to eat at Jamie Oliver’s restaurant in London, Jamie’s Italian, He Chef started asking for details.

Why?  Because he’s awesome at his job, and wants to make sure everyone loves their Wolfgang Puck experience.

That being said, the only thing these two “brands” if you will have in common, is the name recognition.

First, I have mostly had Wolfgang Puck in Las Vegas.  Only had Jamie Oliver in London.  Vegas and London are two entirely different worlds.

Also,

when I go to Wolfgang Puck, they know I belong in some way, shape or form to He Chef.  Know that I am going to be informing on them.   My kids could play in the fountain and throw rocks at guests and it would be “all good”.

OK they weren’t that bad, but close.

First,  Jamie’s Italian.   The bruschetta was the best EVER.  I still dream of it, and will for awhile.  I regret not taking advantage of a free hour and going back for more.  It will be the first thing I do next time I’m in London.

We went on a Saturday over to the Canary Wharf location, only a couple of blocks from the Canary Wharf Tube.  It is located in an area where there are a lot of offices.  Despite the area being sleepy on a Saturday afternoon, Jamie’s was hopping busy.  The staff was wonderful.  After the bruschetta, the rest of the food was good, probably the best I had in London, but it wasn’t “omgoodness I’m going to die” like the bruschetta was.  Yes, I’m stuck on the bruschetta, it was that good.

as opposed to Wolfgang Puck.  Where everything that I put in my mouth makes me want to die immediately because nothing, ever will be as good as that moment.  Wasabi mashed potatoes.  Creamed corn.  I usually defer to whatever they bring me.  Last time I was in Vegas, I ate at Lupo’s in Mandalay Bay.  I had Kobe beef with a black truffle something, so yum.  They insisted on bringing dessert.  I don’t even know what it was, a ricotta/berry something.  Again, it was Vegas and I almost married it.

I would say you couldn’t go wrong with either choice.  I know that if I am ever near a restaurant operated by either Jamie Oliver or Wolfgang Puck, you’ll find me there.

I had traveled overnight, over six time zones.  I arrived excited.

Excited for the adventure.  To see my husband.  To get away from the kids.

It was not until a couple hours after arriving that my body realized we should still be sleeping.

I went back to my hotel and took a bit of a nap.  I didn’t want to sleep too much.  Although, I don’t recall what we did that night.  I know we walked around for a bit, but remember Skype-ing home to the kids and seeing my tired self on video and wishing for a Jane Jetson video phone face.

That night, I had trouble falling asleep, and the first morning I slept til almost noon.

I spent four nights there.  I wasn’t particularly tired during any of the trip, except that first 24 hours.  It did surprise me that despite being six hours earlier, I woke up earlier than I did at home.  It might have something to do with the difference in latitude and the sun coming up so much earlier.   It also might have something to do with the fact that I haven’t had a decent nights sleep since the twins arrived five years ago.  Or just trying to see as much of London as I could in four days.

Before I left for the trip, I did try to get to bed as early as possible #FAIL and I did get up quite early the few days preceding my trip.

When I returned I had read that I should wear sunglasses in the morning and then stay up until normal bedtime.  That and about an hour nap on the plane seemed to work fine.  It was sunny when I arrived home and I did quite well until it got dark.  I did stay up until 10 that night telling my kids and mom-in-law about my adventures.

The day after I returned home I struggled to stay awake in the late afternoon, but that is normal for me.

Now, I’m suspecting that this was maybe a newbie reaction to travel.  I will probably be all cocky and think that jet lag is a bunch of bologna sandwich only to get my ass handed to me in the future.

I’m keeping it in mind.

After leaving Passport and Customs, I needed to get into the city.  From Heathrow, the easiest and cheapest way is to take the Heathrow Express to Paddington station.  From Paddington it is easy to change trains to the Underground, or Tube as they call it, catch a bus or a taxi.

My husband, who had arrived several days earlier for business had purchased an “Oyster card” for me.  No, I don’t know why they call it an oyster card, they just do.  He had sought advice from  his local co-workers and bought me a week pass for zones 1 and 2.  This allowed me to take a Tube or bus anywhere in those zones.  It was 28 pounds for the week, which at the time translated into about $42 U.S.

We took the bus from Paddington to our hotel.  Which, and I was warned, was small.  There was a double bed pushed up to the wall and two small nightstands next to it.  There was not enough room between the bed and the wall for even a twin sized mattress.  My husbands big suitcase stood upright at the end of the bed, it touched the wall and the bed.  Behind that wall was a bathroom where I could touch all walls by standing in the middle.

I say those things only for information.  It was a lovely room.  It didn’t need to be any more than it was.

After we got me settled, we took the Tube into the city where my husband was working.  My first “dumb American” eye roll came from security at the office.  He asked for my “surname” and both my husband and I thought he’d said “sign in” – we didn’t know where.

Upstairs, introductions were made.

“Hi, hello, no not very tired.  Oh the flight was good.”

my husband’s office mate caught me off guard.

“We’re going out tomorrow night, right?”

Well, that’s very kind of you, but I’m married and my husband is right there.

“of course.”

That wasn’t as awkward as when after said night out, he kissed me.  It was all very European.  Apparently they do that there.

Anyway,

After that I wandered around (got lost) London for a bit.  Scoped out a place for lunch and had a Coke in the park.