Yorkshire Pudding Isn 't Pudding At All

We ate a lot during our trip. A LOT. Without a doubt, the best meals we had were at the start of the trip, when Elaine's family members were feeding us.

Keith and I used to laugh about how Burger King and McDonald's are British foods. When he came to visit me in Liverpool and we traveled to Dublin, it seemed like those were the only eating establishments open when we were hungry.

This time, we were fed amazing meals by actual Scottish and English people. Saturday morning, Sr. Theresa made us a traditional Scottish breakfast with fried eggs, toast, sausage, bacon, potato pancakes (yum), and black pudding. Keith and I politely declined the black pudding. Because, of course, black pudding is actually sausage cooked with blood. Loads of blood.

Saturday evening, Elaine's mom made us an expected—yet delicious—goulash. Sunday evening, Elaine's Aunt Lorraine (also known as the provider of the hat) made us a huge traditional meal of a spicy soup appetizer, Yorkshire pudding, about 5 kinds of potatoes, green beans, and I can't even remember what else. But there was mounds of food, and it was all amazing.

For the wedding, we again chose the Yorkshire pudding. I've decided I'm a fan. Of course—it's not actually pudding. It's roast beef and gravy served with a little pastry cup. Why a cup, I haven't figured out seeing as how you don't actually put anything in it. But it's cute, and quite tasty.

In Liverpool, Aunt Jeannette made lovely chicken breasts with a spicy sauce, and Keith was faced for the first time with mushy peas. Although, after reading the definition of "mushy peas" on wikipedia, I may be wrong about that. They may not have technically been to the "mushy pea" stage, but they were different enough from our typical cooked peas for Keith to lean over to me and ask what they were.

Along with all of this wonderful food, we greatly appreciated that our hosts assured us they wouldn't be offended if there was anything we didn't eat. So if anything didn't appeal to us, we were to just leave it on our plates and not worry about it. When you're in a different country and trying to stay on good terms with various hosts, the disclaimer is very helpful.

I can't for the life of me remember what they call actual "pudding," but I'm sure it must be something completely different.