Friday, September 27, 2012.
New England-Canada Cruise Journal, Day Seven: At Sea, At Last!
The marathon of ports has at last come to an end. I can't remember another cruise in which we were in a different city six days in a row. If we had taken excursions, maybe it would be less strenuous. But following Mary Ann around only pauses when she decides she can't go on another step. She must be in actual pain (bleeding is sometimes involved) before she calls a time-out.
On sea days, however, even she takes a healing break, and she disappears for most of the day. I revert to the morning routine I enjoyed last time we were on this ship. A comfortable bar called Sir Samuel's makes the best coffee on the ship. I find a spot with the perfect table height for typing, and out comes this stuff while I enjoy a double latte.
Also remembered from our previous QM2 voyage is the Holden Lion, the QM2's British pub. Mary Ann decided after just one lunch there that this was the best place to have the midday meal. The Golden Lion serves things like cottage (shepherd's) pie, bangers and mash, the ploughman's lunch (a board of sliced meats, cheeses, and bread) and (of course) fish and chips. Lots of interesting beers and ales, too.
We showed up early for a food trivia contest. I was embarrassed to get only fifteen right out of twenty. But a lot of the questions referred to British ingredients and dishes. And there was a trick question an Englishman would get more quickly than an American:
Q. What's the queen of cocktails?
A. The Bloody Mary.
I had the cottage pie, whose layers of mashed potato, cheese, ground beef, peas and carrots was homely and good. MA did fish and chips, something she keeps ordering even though she knows that the batter on English fried fish is tempura-like and not her cup of tea.
Cunard, like most other operators of the big ships, was caught flat-footed when Norwegian Cruise Lines instituted its brilliant, forward-looking array of many different specialty restaurants in lieu of the traditional one big dining room and a buffet. The QM2 was already built when that revolution took place. They are trying to tap into the idea by converting parts of the buffet into specialty restaurants at dinner.
Mary Ann is convinced that the food in the buffet is decidedly better than that in the main dining room. As much as I dislike buffets, I can see her point. By night, a quarter of the buffet become La Piazza, an Italian specialty restaurant with full table service. The ten-dollar upcharge is more than paid back with a much more interesting menu than I would have found in the main dining room.
I started with a plate of dry-cured meats: Serrano ham, prosciutto, bresaola (the beef answer to prosciutto), and speck (smoked prosciutto), all wrapped around slices of melon. Nothing in the world could say Northern Italy more convincingly. Next came a chilled soup of tomato and watermelon. Bizarre as that sounds, this was the third time I've had such a thing in the past month or so. The other two times were at Root; all versions were better than they sound.
By contrast, the last time I ate a roasted guinea hen was at Mr. B's in the Chef Gerard Maras days. That would have been around thirty years ago. Why does nobody cook this chicken-like but deliciously gamy bird? Chefs? Any answer?
The Marys ate nearly nothing. Mary Leigh enjoyed a bowl of cheese ravioli with pomodoro sauce. Mary Ann had a salad. I think.
In the jazz club tonight was a different ensemble. The bass player was on a guitar, not a standing bass fiddle. I wonder whether I could tell the the difference in a blind hearing. Also part of the act was a trumpeter with a lot of force and a more subtle sax player. Not bad, but not as enjoyable as the trio that's been there all week. I guess they deserve a day off.
It's over three years since a day was missed in the Dining Diary. To browse through all of the entries since 2008, go here.
