August 21-22: state number 3
West Hartford has been named one of the top ten best cities in the USA for the next decade. 
Always ahead of the bandwagon (most of you will be aware that due to my progressive fashion choices Anna regularly phones me for trend advice) I thought I’d pop up for the weekend.
Indeed, the urban vampire look I’ve been working for a couple of weeks now is clearly right on the button. OzFest was also taking place that weekend, and thankfully by the time I convinced the friendly bikers at the airport that no, I wasn’t going to the festival and that I most certainly did not want a lift on ‘Brenda’, my excellent friend and gracious host had arrived to pick me up.
I’ve known the very lovely ‘American Jess’ since first year at Pembroke when she came across on exchange. She was paired up with JSS for the Freshers’ week three-legged pub crawl and her fate was sealed.
Back then she was an arc and anth-er. (Opposable thumbs anyone?) However, after meeting me Jess decided that law was the only way to go. She’s now studying at UConn. The geek that I am, we popped in for a nosey.
West Hartford appears to be a typical New England town. White wooden clad houses? Check. Porch verandas? Check. Quaint town hall, churches and shops? Check, check and check. Sadly, the only blot on its copy sheet was the infestation of cars in the main street. Pedestrianise and cobble please! Apart from that, it seemed just perfect.
Especially because of the Quaker Diner. We lunched at this wonderful railway car sized 24-hr greasy spoon that’s been on the go for at least 70 years. My family will testify that I know my omelettes, and boy did I get a good one.
Unlike its counterpart in Pennsylvania, the Connecticut legislature has a slighly more liberal attitude to wine. (In Philadelphia wine may only be bought from state liquor stores, of which there are only two in the city centre. The selection isn’t great, they close at nine, and I feel vaguely sleazy when I go in. So I can buy a gun in K-Mart but not a bottle of Sauvy B? Explain that Dworkin. ) Indeed, it wouldn’t normally be noteworthy to have gone into a wine shop and to have been given good advice about what would accompany pizza well, but given my experience in Philly I was pretty pleased.
We were picking up some red as Aaron was top cheffing it up to produce some hectic good pizza. We’d a great night in, sponsored by Whole Foods and their DIY party hats.
The good food with good friends theme continued the next morning when we hit Mo’s Midtown Restaurant which has won silly amounts of awards for its breakfasts. I had its blueberry pancakes and knew why.
Then things turned pretty dark and stormy. This gave Jess and I an excuse to put touristing to one side for a weekend and simply to catch up on three years’ banter. Fear and loathing in Las Vegas? Give me pottering and good chat in Connecticut any day. No wonder Candace Bushnell has a place here.
Fifty States 
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