Tourisme gastronomique

[shewhomust]

A few years ago, several of my friends raved about a book called The Last Samurai, by Helen DeWitt; I didn't rave, but I read it and enjoyed it. The heroine is an American woman bringing up a child alone in London, and there is a running joke that in London you can eat fried chicken from states not previously known for fried chicken: "If you're good, I'll take you out for some Utah fried chicken..."

I assumed that this misrepresentation of the local cuisine was the sort of thing that happened abroad; for the fried chicken vendors of London, fried chicken is a generic American import, not a southern specialty. Apparently not: this morning I saw a café offering "Durham Cream Teas". Hitherto, I have thought of the cream tea as a reason for visiting the south west: the scones, the thick cream, the strawberry jam all reflect the rich pastures and sunny climate of Devon.

So what might a Durham Cream Tea consist of? A big plate of stottie cakes, served with leeks and a dollop of pease pudding on top?

Comments

[sekhmets-song.livejournal.com]

The idea of Utah fried chicken is pretty hysterical, from this side of the Atlantic. There are so many things wrong with that choice of states, it's a bit like suggesting Outback sushi for dinner.

[shewhomust.livejournal.com]

Outback sushi sounds like the sort of thing that could catch on: all grubs and insects, real macho extreme food!