So after we had taken in the castle we (my parents, husband, the girls, and I) decided to take in the rest of the touristy part of Windsor. They even had a McDonalds (score for my girls).
We didn't just eat a McDonald's though. After we were completely spent and running on empty we wandered down a street and ended up at this little hole in the wall of a bistro (where Shakespeare happened to live and wrote the "Merry Wives of Windsor") and had a nice little dinner before we had to meet back up with the tour bus and make our way back to Suffolk.
The actual story happens while we are eating. There were two obvious American tourists (they were from Connecticut) sitting at the next table to ours hemming and hawing over what to eat. One asked what a "jacket potato" was and the other who was as uninclined as the other guessed. It was sad, really. So me, being me, turned around and said " A jacket potato is a baked potato, and I recommend the bacon and cheese, it is probably the best choice, " or something along those lines and insert some friendly American banter (which is how I found out they were from Connecticut). They thanked me and continued to hem and haw. "Bacon, what exactly is bacon," *sigh* They then asked me something along the lines of " is it bacon or Canadian bacon" *sigh* "Well it is bacon, but it is British bacon, which has considerably less fat than American bacon, so I guess it would be closer to a thinner Canadian bacon," I offered for their consideration.
Now, what I wanted to say is "It is British Bacon, which has less fat than American bacon, but if you want American bacon you should ask for "streaky bacon" but then you will have everyone in here looking at you like you are a loon because streaky bacon to the Brits is not the creme de la creme. Oh and they probably don't have it anyway at this little cafe. By the way, ham is called gammon," but I didn't and that was an exercise in restraint. I am such a saint.