This year February 14th in UAE was decreed to be the Prophet's birthday so there was no booze to be had in any of the bars or hotels in Dubai.
We went out for dinner anyway because, as him indoors pointed out, the hotels etc were all doing Valentine's meals on February 13th of 15th to compensate, but it's not the same. I think we escaped the experience of being stuck in a packed restaurant with tons of other embarrassed looking couples all eating the same thing with the same crap wine then being chucked out so they can cram in the second sitting.
Luckily his job means that we had access to a delicious half bottle of pink champagne. Otherwise, we celebrated the day with steak for him, langoustines for me, and virgin daiquiris.
My best beloved also finally succumbed to my whinging about the lack of teapot tea available in the flat and bought me these:
The minature pot is a milk jug, not the teapot's child.
I never really thought of myself as adhering to English stereotypes but as far as tea goes, I'm embarrassingly committed to the cause. I've been an avid tea drinker since I had my first cup at the age of about five. Teabag tea, mind, not posh tea leaves. Tea drinking is a slightly tricky enterprise here as the only teabag source I've been bothered to discover is Waitrose which is somewhat pricier than I'm used to anyway and then more so because the only things that aren't imported are the few things that grow here, ie under-sized cucumbers. The best deal I could find were Barry's which are Irish but I'm pleased to report they taste the same as Tetley or Yorkshire Tea.
Speaking of stereotypes, the other thing I have always missed when I'm away from home is chip shop fish and chips. I always used to demand that Mum and Dad bought us fish and chips when we arrived home from holidays with varying degrees of success, depending on how irksome the camper van crawl up through France had been. I remember the year we came back from mid France to Nottinghamshire on a tow truck after the van finally gave up the ghost, my whimpers for batter, grease and carbs fell on particularly deaf ears.
We went out for dinner anyway because, as him indoors pointed out, the hotels etc were all doing Valentine's meals on February 13th of 15th to compensate, but it's not the same. I think we escaped the experience of being stuck in a packed restaurant with tons of other embarrassed looking couples all eating the same thing with the same crap wine then being chucked out so they can cram in the second sitting.
Luckily his job means that we had access to a delicious half bottle of pink champagne. Otherwise, we celebrated the day with steak for him, langoustines for me, and virgin daiquiris.
My best beloved also finally succumbed to my whinging about the lack of teapot tea available in the flat and bought me these:
The minature pot is a milk jug, not the teapot's child.
I never really thought of myself as adhering to English stereotypes but as far as tea goes, I'm embarrassingly committed to the cause. I've been an avid tea drinker since I had my first cup at the age of about five. Teabag tea, mind, not posh tea leaves. Tea drinking is a slightly tricky enterprise here as the only teabag source I've been bothered to discover is Waitrose which is somewhat pricier than I'm used to anyway and then more so because the only things that aren't imported are the few things that grow here, ie under-sized cucumbers. The best deal I could find were Barry's which are Irish but I'm pleased to report they taste the same as Tetley or Yorkshire Tea.
Speaking of stereotypes, the other thing I have always missed when I'm away from home is chip shop fish and chips. I always used to demand that Mum and Dad bought us fish and chips when we arrived home from holidays with varying degrees of success, depending on how irksome the camper van crawl up through France had been. I remember the year we came back from mid France to Nottinghamshire on a tow truck after the van finally gave up the ghost, my whimpers for batter, grease and carbs fell on particularly deaf ears.
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