Eat like an Egyptian: Foul Eskandandy

The Joneseseseses family trip to Sharm El Sheikh was delightful. Despite Phil being stung by a “harmless” (so said the locals) jellyfish, we all came home unscathed – some of us browner than others.

We stayed at the Grand Rotana resort and enjoyed a daily breakfast buffet despite a source of great consternation: foul eskandandy.

Now, having conducted some online research, I’ve learned that “foul” refers to beans. Apparently brown fava beans are a staple of the Egyptian diet. However, searches for “foul eskandandy” (and a variety of alternate spellings) have failed me. To this day, we will never know what it was as Mark refused to eat it.

Actually, we only saw one Russian woman eat it. It looked and smelled a bit like chilli – why one would choose this for breakfast I don’t know – but I cannot verify its contents.

Has anyone ever heard of foul eskandandy before? If you’ve actually eaten it, please comment with a detailed description of taste/texture/ingredients… curiosity is killing me!!!

Mark#37 – Rome is Where the Art is

I’ve been meaning to post some photos from our honeymoon for a long time now, but it’s always seemed like such a daunting task. Downloading all the pictures to the laptop, organising them into some kind of order, giving each photo a descriptive file name, choosing which ones to put online, uploading them to the blog, writing a boring blog posting to describe the entire process….

But anyway, I’ve finally got around to doing it. Well, kind of. This is sort of a part one of four when it comes to our honeymoon – part two will be Florence, part three will be Venice, and part four will be photos of April and I – so I suppose I’m only really a quarter of the way through.

These are some of my favourite photos that we took in Rome. The Colosseum, the Trevi Fountain, the Roman Forum, St. Peter’s Basilica, Vatican City, the Pantheon, Castel Sant’Angleo and the River Tiber are all included.

 Just click on the thumbnails to see the bigger versions.

Mark#25 – Kate & Rich

A big shout out to our friends back in Toronto, Kate & Rich! Or, as April refers to them, ‘bizarro April & Mark’, on account of the many eerie similarities in our lives and relationships.

April and Kate both moved to Toronto from different parts of Canada. Standing at a similar height and with the same dark hair and fair skin, both found work in the B2B practice group at Fleishman-Hillard Canada (which is where they met). They bonded over their mutual interests of shopping, designer goods, more shopping and, last but not least, their love of tall, handsome, English men who had emigrated to Canada. So, inevitably, the men in their lives eventually met and, lo and behold, the similarities continued.

There was none of that “our girlfriends are mates so we have to be mates” type-awkwardness, Rich and myself hit it off immediately in our own right. Sharing a healthy obsession with football (although as Rich follows Nottingham Forest, it’s debatable if he can really call himself a football fan) and a broader interest in sports, beer, more sports and hot, dark-haired Canadian women.

Happily, and perhaps appropriately, April and I weren’t the only ones to tie the knot this year – as Kate and Rich did the deed just a few weeks before us. And today, courtesy of Kate’s talented siblings, we were introduced to a compilation video of Kate & Rich’s history, and it’s a hoot….

Oh, and by the way Kate, I can confirm that April did NOT go through the Laura Ashley phase…so maybe you’re not so bizarro after all.

Mark#14 – Ciao ed Bienvenute a Firenze

During our upcoming honeymoon in Italy, we’ll be taking in the sights, sounds, food, wine, culture and, most importantly, romance of Rome, Florence and Venice. And in preparation for our trip, I’m desperately trying to grasp the basics of the Italian language.

So far, the only sentence I have mastered is the one in the title of this posting. But given it translates to “Hello and welcome to Florence”, I can’t imagine a scenario where this will be of any use to us. Well, except I suppose I’ll understand if the concierge offers it up as a greeting when we arrive at our hotel in Florence.  

Originally we were intending to stay in small, boutique hotels so that we could get as authentic an experience as possible. However, we quickly found out that leaving our reservations until just a month before the trip mean most half-decent boutique hotels were fully-booked.

So we changed plan and have instead decided to go for the four-star luxury of the Sofitel Roma and the Sofitel Venezia. Except, that is, in Florence, where we have taken a bit of a gamble on the Hermitage Hotel – a little place just around the corner from the Uffizi Art Gallery. 

Rooftop Terrace at the Sofitel Roma

I’ve just realised that, remarkably, this will be the first holiday that April and I have ever taken alone together. All our previous jaunts have been either to visit April’s family in Nanaimo, or to visit my family in Thornham, or meeting my family in Florida or the Caribbean.

Having already moved in, rescued pets, bought property (twice) and moved countries together, it’s reassuring to know we’ve at least left something until after we get wed!

Mark#13 – More on Croc Hunters Demise…

Credit to my good pal, Luke “Hobgoblin” Simpson, for this effort.

Mark#12 – Breaking News: Stingray NOT Responsible for Death of Steve Irwin

Mark#9 – Taking the Piss

Actually, this post should be titled ‘Taking A Piss’, which is exactly what CNN reporter Kyra Phillps was doing yesterday during a live Presidential broadcast. Unfortunately, she forgot to turn her microphone off…

I imagine George Bush’s media advisors were delighted (in fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they arranged it), I mean it’s probably the first time that someone has come off looking more stupid than him during one of his speeches.

USA! USA! USA!

Idiots.

Mark#6 – The Fame Game

April and I spent over three years living in Toronto, Canada, before moving over to the UK. As a major North American city, host of one of the top film festivals on the planet, and a prime location for movie shoots (movies that are “set” in New York City are often filmed in Toronto – its cheaper and easier to secure permits apparently), it wasn’t unusual to see the odd celebrity knocking about town. Especially when you live on the fringes of the ultra-chic Bloor-Yorkville neighbourhood, as we did. And especially when you work in PR, as we did and, indeed, still do.

Below – in no particular order – are the highlights of my Toronto celebrity encounters:

1) April so excited at seeing Scott Speedman that she squeezed my hand so tightly it almost came off.

2) Being surprised by how stunning Sigourney Weaver is in the flesh (I always thought she looked like a monkey until I saw her up-close).

3) Seeing Dustin Hoffman marching up Bay Street, at least five steps ahead of his wife, who was desperately trying to keep up.

4) Watching Natalie Portman just sitting there, eating breakfast, and being incredibly, unbelievably HOT. Because she’s top of my celebrity ‘to do’ list, April encouraged me to go chat her up (anyone remember that episode of Friends, where Ross meets Isabella Rosselini?), but my supersonic sonar radar told me she probably wouldn’t be interested.

5) Coming seriously close to a fist fight with Canadian Idol winner, Ryan Malcolm (the Canadian equivalent of Will Young), which I would have won. Easily.

Mark#2 – China Kicks Ass…Literally!

Nanjing, China, capital of the Jhiangsu Province (thanks Wikipedia). One of the most culturally significant cities in the Eastern hemisphere. A former capital of China on several occasions. A mecca of sorts for artists, intellectuals and poets alike. More galleries, museums, festivals, libraries and theatres than you can shake your chopsticks at.

All of which makes it the logical choice for what promises to represent the first major cultural revolution of this millennium…Wu Sung’s “Rising Sun Anger Release Bar“.

The concept is this: following a hard day’s graft, the irate patrons of this drinking establishment are encouraged to decompress via the physical expression of their pent-up frustrations.

In other words, the customers are allowed to beat the crap out of the bar staff!!

No kidding. You walk in, select your victim, choose a costume for him (I’m not making this up) and then wail on his ass until you feel relieved of societal pressures. Societal pressures that are seemingly so overwhelming that expressing them through a few angry brush strokes, rigourous dance moves or strongly-worded stanza cannot provide bloody satisfaction.

How is it that, with all the knowledge and the teachings of history, culture is able to devolve in such ways? I despair!

With bar-room brawling apparently the yardstick for measuring the cultural prominence of a city, I guess we can all finally understand why Liverpool has been elected the European Capital of Culture.

I can only assume the brains behind this relatively prestigious award have never heard of Oldham.