Omelettes, Roast, and Shopping, Oh My

Sunday morning omelettes did not disappoint. Merrit mixed up a delicious combination made with local ingredients. It was delicious. For more details about the ingredients and how today's omelette got its name, The Northumbrian, read Merrit's blog post.

We puttered around the house most of the morning, which was a satisfying way to spend the morning and early afternoon. Just good low-key family time.

We rode the Metro into Newcastle. 13 stops to the city centre. First order of business: Lunch.

We weren't terribly familiar with the restaurants nearby so we ambled about, following our noses till we found something that smelled promising.

We ended up at The Northumbrian Arms, an underground pub and restaurant. If there hadn't been a guy holding a big chalkboard advertising the Sunday roast, we'd never have found it. We ducked down a side alley, into an old granite doorway, down two flights of skinny steps, and into a low-ceilinged and cozy warm pub.

On Sundays, many restaurants here serve one thing, and one thing only. The Sunday roast and the traditional accompanying sides. This is our third time eating Sunday dinner. While the vegetables vary, the meal always has roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, and gravy.

What did I just post on Saturday about reasonable portion sizes?

The boys and I shared this huge plate of food.

The roast, which was delicious, and the Yorkshire pudding, which had a dollop of some sort of herbed stuffing inside it, and the entire plate of vegetables had a generous helping of gravy poured over it. The veggies included peas, sauteed cabbage, roasted turnips and potatoes, pureed rutabagas (yeah, Mom, you heard that right!), broccoli, and boiled potatoes (because just one kind of potatoes on a plate just isn't enough!).

Holy Moses, it was good. Mike and I decided that this is one place that we will have to bring his parents when they come to visit us. This was English comfort food, just the kind of big-hearted dinner that Delores serves up on Sundays in her neck of the woods.

I'm a locavore in spirit. The idea of eating local foods in season is, to me, both logical and romantic. Full disclosure: I am addicted to avocados, which grow no where near North Carolina OR Newcastle! Anyway, the food seemed to somehow taste better after I read this sign:

The sign reads: "Welcome to our place...

Sample a pint of cask beer,
enjoy a refreshing pint of ice cold
lager or cider.

Try a tipple from our superb wine menu
personally supplied by a local Wine Merchant.

Wherever possible, we only use locally sourced
ingredients from in and around the Northumberland area.

We go to the local markets for our vegetables.

We use an award winning, local family butcher
who source their meats from local Northumberland farms.

A local baker supplies our daily bread.

Our fish are caught from our coastal waters
and arrive fresh to us from the North Shields Fish Quay.

Local food made by local people!"

After lunch and a little walk around, we shopped for some stuff. A hat for Merrit to replace to one he lost in Tynemouth. Grey trousers for his school uniform. Black socks for Mike since no one here wears white athletic socks...how American! Running shoes and a reflective windbreaker for me. Yay! Hm, did Ollie even get anything? No, poor thing.

The boys were wilting, and I still needed a haircut so Mike took them back to Whitley Bay and I scouted around for a salon open on Sundays. I finally found an Aveda salon that could work me in and I got a great haircut WITH a complimentary head and shoulder massage. Aaaaaah.

Wrapped up the night with my first run in Whitley Bay. I don't have my iPhone provider switched over here, so I couldn't track distance or pace, but it was a good run. I'd guess I ran a couple miles and it felt great to get out there. I went out at about 7:30pm, and the village was very safe, people are out walking to the store,  the streets are well-lit, and other runners were out. It felt great to move my muscles again!