Food glorious food

It's not often Becky and I go in for fine dining. Most of our meals out are fairly straightforward affairs. The odd fillet steak here and there. Or perhaps a nice piece of fish.

But every now and then we treat ourselves to some posh nosh. And yesterday was one of those days.

First stop was The Traddock at Austwick. Becky opted for dressed crab (pictured). I went for a gammon sandwich (granted doesn't sound very fancy but the home made bread and chutney made the difference). Then we shared a delicious rhubarb crumble.

Then onto Hipping Hall for a two night stay without the kids.

Hipping Hall is a delightful little boutique hotel just off the A65 near Kirkby Lonsdale. We first stayed here about five years ago. The attention to detail is first class. Far from being stuffy, the service is relaxed but attentive. The bedrooms are cosy with thick faux fur drapes and comfortable beds.

When you arrive you are invited into the lounge for tea and cake. Teas are complimentary throughout your stay. A nice little touch.

Anyway dinner is the main event. Aperitifs in the lounge and an amuse bouche, one of which was an onion macaroon. Then into the dining room with a roaring fire and a smokey aroma. A pre starter courtesy of the chef - a shot glass of lobster and avocado (a posh prawn cocktail).

For the real starters I had belly pork and Becky went for a turbot terrine with a tempura oyster on the side.

Then for our mains I opted for guinea foul, a first for me. It was like the best chicken I'd ever had. Moist and full of flavour.

Becky chose hogget. Sounds like pork doesn't it? Must be. Looks very meaty though for pork. Maybe it's the breed. One bit is quite tough to cut through though. Maybe it's beef after all. Damn I like beef.

No you idiots. Hogget is a one year old sheep. Not lamb. Not mutton. Hogget. I told you we don't do fine dining very often. Heathens that we are. Reminded me of years ago when we ate at a posh place in Edinburgh calked The Witchery and had to ask how to eat oysters. I'm glad we did though as we'd always assumed you chuck them down your throat. Not at all. Chew slowly like a muscle. No tobasco masking the flavour. Just a squeeze of lemon.

Anyway then Becky had cheese and I had an amazing apple tart / jelly / struddle thing. Gorgeous.

Then the evening was all wrapped up with a single shot of espresso together with petit fours and a rather large cognac.

Good night.

Back to the grindstone

Having spent the whole of last week gallivanting around in Florida, returning to work today was somewhat of a shock to the system.

But it wasn't the Arctic chill that got to me it was the relentless slog of back to back meetings all day. From the minute I walked in the door I was running from one thing to the next. Barely enough time to go to the loo let alone grab lunch.

It struck me how self defeating this can be.

Every conversation is rushed, every point made not nearly as well informed as it could've been. Nuances of meaning lost in the interests of ending the meeting 'on time'.

Which begs the question would it be better to deliberately do less in order to get more done?

I accept working like this on occasion is inevitable and ultimately it pays the wages and beggars can't be choosers. But I worry it is ultimately a false economy that can wear you down. Hence back to the grindstone took on new meaning.

As did another phrase I hadn't come across before.

A colleague in America asked me if she should run the traps. It was lost in translation. I didn't know if it was a dig at me, a joke or an offer to help. Here's her explanation:

"Running the traps" is a phrase from hunting. First you set or fix the traps, then you go back later and run or check the traps to see if you have caught anything in your traps.

Politically you are running the traps when you are testing the waters to see if a program you want or a law you need passed is popular enough to start the process of garnering enough votes and support to push forward with your program.

In everyday life, we use it to make sure something is okay before you do it – identify any problems ahead of time.

So I'd like to the run the traps on this idea. No more than three meetings in any one day. Clear one hour breaks between meetings to give myself time to think. And at irregular start and end times.

What do you think?

Or should I just get my nose to the grindstone and stop my pathetic whinging?

Living Room gig

On Friday I had the privilege of having my favourite band come and play a gig in the comfort of my own home.

It was a magical experience. One that I didn't want to end. At one point I was trapped between trying to lap it all up and enjoy the moment and capture it on my flip cam so I could relive it all over again.

If you have never come across Hope and Social I strongly recommend you look them up. They are fantastic musicians. But more than that they understand better than any band or brand for that matter the importance of ensuring everything they do is good.

They invest time and effort into creating lasting impressions. Their gigs are more than performances they are entertaining all encompassing experiences where the audience is part of the music not merely a passive observer.

I absolutely love them for their honesty their generosity and because they make me laugh and cry.

My very own Living Room gig was priceless.

The memory will live long. And the YouTube clips will be played to death for many years to come.

Expanding my horizons

Even with the time difference I can't really get away with claiming this is Monday's blog. But hey ho. It was a self-imposed rule and I'm over it already.

Yesterday was a good day for me, professionally speaking. I got the chance to attend a meeting with some cool people who do marketing around the globe. It always strikes me how much we have in common despite our vast cultural differences.

I've always enjoyed engaging internationally with people.

Before I left Direct Line ten or so years ago I got the chance to go to Italy and Germany with my then boss to suss out how we were going to launch in those two countries.

Then a few years back I went to Mexico City for a corporate affairs summit with Walmart, visited stores and went to a remote village producing small amounts of produce for the company. And more recently I've had the chance to visit the techie kids of San Francisco and now Orlando.

There's no doubt the chance to travel is fun at first. It is still a novelty and therefore the work is even more stimulating as a result.

But I also relish putting my thinking to the test to see whether my views on social media translate across borders and time zones.

So far so good.

The next twelve months however are going to be fascinating.

If I keep my eyes and ears open it could also teach me things I can barely even imagine today.

The pace of change is dramatic and the opportunity to do some really powerful and exciting things is tantalising.

I literally can't wait to get started.

A post from 36,000 feet

I'm just about to get stuck into my third film of the flight. Argo and Skyfall duly dispatched.

I've decided to go for a feel good movie next which is slightly dangerous. I have a habit of getting a little emotional on flights. Put it down to the air pressure or something. In fact scratch that it is nothing to do with air pressure. It has everything to do with how sentimental I am.

Anyway I'll return to this topic in due course. The adverts have finished and the flick has commenced. Laters.

Part two
Ok I'm back. Film three was Ok. Easy watching. No lumps in throat so that was handy as it's a day time flight and the guy next to me doesn't look the type that would appreciate a blubbering wimp like me sobbing to some chick flick.

Flying around the globe definitely gets me thinking. It almost hurts my head how connected we are yet living such very different lives from continent to continent. I read a crazy fact on twitter earlier:

"If we could shrink the earths population to a village of 100 people, the ratio would be: 57 Asians, 21 Europeans, 14 Americans & 8 Africans."

So there you go.

Another lazy day

Do you ever fall into the trap of taking the easiest way out. Choosing to go down the path of least resistance. Taking the lazy option. I'm ashamed to say I do.

I have to fight the urge to be a slob when I'm at home sometimes.

Today is a good example. My four year old daughter really enjoys going on trains. And I kind of promised her we would.

But after walking the dog and eating a piece of toast I thought I can't really be arsed. I looked at the time and knew it would be too much of a rush. Instead we may as well just wait for Becky to get back from my other daughter's dance class with the car.

Then I saw her little face and realised I was being a meany. If we got a move on we could still make the 10.26.

So we grabbed our coats and ran out the door.

Such a simple thing to do. And no skin off my nose if I'm honest. And all it took was a little bit of effort to make my four year old a very happy girl.

Eek

I haven't blogged today. And the problem now is that I'm tired and I've had a glass of wine. But I'm determined to blog every day for a year. So here's the deal. I need your help dear reader. Whoever you may be.

Amongst you there will be friends and acquaintances, plus the odd person who doesn't know me from Adam. But let me open up and tell you all something. I live for feedback and encouragement. So if you can leave a little comment below or an @ reply on twitter then that will be a jolly good fillip and will see me through tonight. I promise to invest more effort in tomorrow's post.