Asado and Camp-out Anniversary

VJ has been very busy so apologies for the lack of blogging, visits to all the fantastic blogs I follow and delayed replies to comments.  She is attempting to catch up but the mundane and household drudgery are also calling her name.

Just over a week ago they were invited to a Uruguyan Asado by a good friend.  He was born in Uruguay but has lived in the UK for many years and is married to the most lovely lady with a gorgeous welcoming smile.

The Asado is a traditional barbecued meatfest of gargantuan proportions.  A log fuelled fire is lit and the white hot embers are pushed under a large sloping grill to cook the meats to melting perfection.

They fed ninety hungry carnivores at a sit-down feast in their garden, ably assisted by several Italian male members of their extended family!  With knife in belt Mr Uruguay and his band of chefs presided over the flames like Indians at a pow wow.  Nine joints of beef with traditional Chimichurri sauce, pork and chickens, hundreds of spicy sausages, chorizo, kidneys and heart, followed by numerous sweet treats .  Bellies full the VJ's laughed with old friends.  It was a night to remember.

The next day they set off for North Devon to a lovely little campsite, a favourite place they have visited before.  They were greeted by the portly farmer with rolled-up sleeves, homespun tank top and muddied boots.  Camp was made and essential books retrieved.  Little man went off to find four other friends - sadly they couldn't find a Timmy.

They went to Barnstaple, the oldest borough in the UK.  Pannier markets have been held here since saxon times.  The market was empty on Sunday.  Little man ran.  Centuries of trading echoed in the silence. 

Butcher's Row, with it's overhanging roofs to protect the meat from the sun.  Thirty three butcher's used to have shops in this one street.  Two remain.

 

A town of spires, towers and bridges.

  

 They walked along the River Taw in the soft warmth of a weak sun.  Little man played in the park.

They breakfasted like Kings and headed for the sea.  The North Devon coast is rugged.  The surf rolls.  The sun was bright and the day long. 

Mr and little man rode the waves.  VJ warmed herself on the sand and drifted into a salty fog of distant waves and children's laughter.

Mr cooked rustic camp fare to quell the echo in their bellies.  Rolls filled with crisped bacon, prosciutto, sausage and gruyere with a herbed salad.  A mellow red sipped slowly in the evening sun. 

Tuesday 23rd August 2011.  On this day ten years ago Miss VJ became a Mrs.  She married her man here.  Fourteen close friends and family shared their special day.   They honeymooned at Holne Chase and then Peru.  Ten years on they woke up on their special day in a tent looking out over the beautiful North Devon countryside.  Mr surprised VJ with a bottle of fizz, little rosebuds, a much coveted Vintage Tea Party Book by the delectable Angel Adoree and a beautiful old Union flag.   

PS:  A big thank you, hello and welcome to all the new followers of Vintage Jane.