On a Wick & a Prayer
As places go, Tissington is a picture-perfect crowd-pleaser. From the minute you pass the towering lodge gates and meander along the lime tree lined avenue, there’s a sense you have discovered a magical village that time forgot. Tissington’s popularity (as many as 35,000 visitors during well dressing week) explains why a village with around 120 inhabitants has a butcher, some bakers (producing cracking cakes for Tissington Hall’s tearooms) and a nationally renowned candle-maker. Follow your nose to the former village forge and Annie Maudling, founder of On a Wick and Prayer, offers the warmest of Tissington welcomes. In my case – a hug, a mug of coffee and the chance to warm cold hands over a pot of melted wax on the brazier. This enthusiastic greeting is far more than I deserve because – after promising to stay in touch – it’s been 20-years since I last visited On a Wick and a Prayer. Back then, Annie had just moved her candle-making from the kitchen stove at Yew Tree cottage (every inch as gorgeous as it sounds) to a converted pigsty in the garden. “I’ve been very busy,” she laughs when I ask for a ‘quick’ catch-up. “It’s 22 years since I started making candles with my daughter’s unwanted kit and a grotty pan which I could never use again as it made the gravy taste of lavender.” I wonder what happened to the pigsty. “We needed more space so, with the blessing of my landlord Sir Richard FitzHerbert, we moved into the old blacksmith’s forge next-door to the cottage,” Annie says. “We hand-pour around a thousand candles per day – sometimes more – and I have ten part-time members of staff. My husband Ed even asked to join the team as he said it ‘looked like fun’. It works well, as long as he does what he’s told.” Annie says the turning point for her company came about after a chance meeting at a trade show. “Someone came to our stall and explained the National Trust shops were looking to stock more local products and asked if I would be interested,” Annie (54), recalls. “It was a case of ‘Er, give me half a second to think about it’ before saying yes. It proved a massive leap forward. Before I knew it, we were supplying candles to 60 shops throughout the country.” In 2005, with orders coming in thick and fast, Annie took on another unit in nearby Ashbourne. Within a matter of two years – they’d outgrown it. “I have a friend whose husband worked from a base in Dovedale. He was moving to larger premises and she asked if I’d be interested in his unit,” Annie says. “It was perfect – offering four times the space. I’d finally found a place big enough to make custom candles for other businesses (including some top London hotels), store the packaging and do the product photography. It also allowed me to achieve a life-long dream of buying a kiln and making a range of pottery called Dovedale Ceramics.” As Annie and I chat, there is a steady stream of people visiting the small but perfectly fragranced shop which is on the side of her workshop. Even though most visitors are there by chance – hikers, cyclists, tourists – they all leave with a candle, or two. “The workshop is really popular. We often have people who come in – smell a few candles – and because they are out walking or cycling say they’ll come again with the car and fill their boot. I’m pleased to say most do,” she says. “We did a survey recently and asked our customers ‘why us?’ I was expecting a variety of answers but 95 per cent said they loved our fragrances. I remember when I first started I was so desperate to please I’d find myself obliging all requests to make anything from Parma violet to roasted mushroom scented candles. Then I learned to have faith in my own fragrances as each one can take weeks – even years – to perfect.” Annie agrees there has been a craze for candles which evoke a favourite smell as opposed to a parfumier’s scent. Annie’s own collection includes Starched Linen, Vine Tomato and the best-selling Hot Toddy. “I try to avoid trends and, even when I’m developing something new, I ask if it fits in with our story,” she says. “For instance, I’ve fallen in love with Norway and spent six years perfecting a blend which brought to mind the smell of a ‘Nordic Forest’ as opposed to a toilet cleaner.” Annie is unperturbed if people don’t like the scent (known in the trade as the throw) of a certain candle. “Two girls came in the other day and one loved a candle but the other said ‘Ew – no’,” she laughs. “We’ve all got a very different sense of smell. I test my fragrances on the ten members of staff and we’re all experienced enough to know when something is right. The rest is down the to personal taste.” One trend Annie is happy to embrace is that of recycling; “We tried launching a refillable eco candle – made from the bottom of wine bottles – 15 years ago. It was just too far ahead of its time,” she recalls. “I know a lot of my customers have cupboards full of spent candle containers they’d like to reuse. We do offer a popular refill service but I wanted to help those who’d prefer to make their own candles.” Annie wrestled with the idea of how to make candle-making accessible to all; doing away with the need for moulds, thermometer and jugs. As usual, divine inspiration struck. “One night I went out to buy a pint of milk. The next morning, I woke up and had a light bulb moment – put the wax in the bottle. Milk bottles are one of the most re-cyclable of all plastics, they
The Isles of Scilly
The Isles of Scilly form an archipelago of five inhabited islands (six if Gugh is counted separately from Saint Agnes) and numerous other rocky islets (around 140 in total, lying 45km (28 miles) south west of Land’s End. Access is by the Scillonian ferry from Penzance across a notoriously rough section of the North Atlantic. Before the discovery of the way Latitude and Longitude could be properly determined, many proud ships came to grief by sailing too close to the Scilly’s. With a perennially mild climate, the Isles of Scilly were inhabited by pre-historic people, many of them building their round houses on land that is now under water, following the end of the last Ice Age. Since then the islands became home for small scale farmers and fishermen who exploited the benefits of a mild climate. Until recently early daffodils and new potatoes and spring vegetables grown on the islands were brought to market weeks before the rest of the country. The Penzance ferry, the Scillonian, picks its way carefully past the eastern islands and outcropping rocks, to berth at Hugh Town harbour on St Mary’s the largest and most populated island. With plenty of accommodation on offer, St Mary’s is the busiest resort and it comes as a shock to have to deal with traffic, however light it might be. Access to the outlying villages and beaches is easy as there is a fairly good bus service running throughout the year. Please note that despite the volume of local traffic, it is virtually impossible to take your car on a holiday to the isles as all large freight must be craned on and off the Scillonian ferry. To explore St Mary’s we started in the west, high above Hugh Town where the extensive ramparts of the Garrison, a fortress built to ward off Napoleonic forces has become something of a public park and resort. Below it and in the main town proper, a wide range of shops and restaurants, together with cycle hire are on offer and there is a small museum of the island’s history. One of the items covered by the museum is the highly competitive sport of gig racing. This takes place throughout the summer and harks back to the days when experienced local sailors were rowed out to offer to pilot incoming vessels. As there was no way this could be planned in advance, several fast rowing boats known as gigs, would set out at once and it became a race to be first. The sport of gig racing has followers mainly from all over the south west, but competitors travel even from as far away as Holland. The race is from Hugh Town harbour to Nut Rock near Tresco and back: a total distance of about 1½miles. The Labour Prime Minister Harold Wilson and his wife Mary had a holiday home in Hugh Town. Even though there is a rule that only locals can be buried on the island, special dispensation was given when the popular visitor died. He is buried in the graveyard of the tiny medieval chapel at Old Town on St Mary’s south-facing coast. His wife’s ashes were later scattered on his grave when she died. There are plenty of coastal footpaths on the island. We followed the one going eastwards from Hugh Town, in and out of tiny coves and headlands, past Old Town and its friendly café, then inland to St Mary’s to the ‘main road’ that meanders in a tight circuit of the centre of the island. About half a mile from Old Town we were puzzled by a notice warning us of low flying aircraft. The answer soon came when an outgoing plane took off a matter of feet directly above our heads. This was the Isles of Scilly airport. There are regular boat trips going to the outlying islands, not simply for tourists, but also as the main supply link with the regular ferry, the Scillonian. St Martin’s is the most easterly of the inhabited islands. Its single road acts as a link between three hamlets whose names seem to be lacking in imagination – Higher Town, Lower Town and in the middle as you might guess, is Middle Town. The island is popular with sailing enthusiasts and under water explorers who pick their way amongst the remains of countless vessels that came to grief on the uncharted rocks littering the hazardous passage of any captain foolishly attempting to sail between the islands, rather than round them. Tresco, owned by Robert and Lucy Dorrien-Smith is the jewel in the islands’ crown. A luxury holiday resort, it centres on a beautiful garden founded in the nineteenth century by Augustus Smith. Rare sub-tropical plants grow in pine sheltered sun-trapped gardens, enjoying the year-long mild weather. Alongside the flowers, a small museum is devoted to a collection of exotic figureheads taken from wrecked shipping around the coasts of these tiny islands. Tresco was first inhabited at least 3000 years ago by Neolithic farmers and during the English Civil War, Cromwell’s Parliamentary forces built a fortress on the island’s most southerly point in order to control shipping through the narrow channel known as The Roads. Fishermen from the north of England used Tresco as a southern base when following the annual flood of herring – the silver darlings. Possibly feeling homesick, they named their settlement New Grimsby. About 1½miles long and ½mile wide, it is possible to reach Bryher at exceptionally low tides from Tresco. This is the smallest inhabited island in the archipelago and was called Brayer in 1336, then Brear in 1500, obviously the phonetical spelling of the spoken word as interpreted by some government clerk or other. Hell Bay on the north western tip of Bryher was a notorious place for shipwrecks when violent Atlantic storms drove vessels into this remote spot. Bar Quay, the landing place for small ferries, was first built by volunteers in the 1990 production of the TV
Cruising gently along the Rhone
Part One – Arles to Vienne Travelling with Midland Mainlines meant we arrived at St Pancras in good time for the mid-morning Eurostar to Paris, Gare du Nord. What should then have been a quick ride to Gare de Lyon seemed to take an age; Parisian traffic was as bad as I remembered it from my last visit decades ago. What it did do was to give us plenty of time to spot ‘Frexit’ signs everywhere! What have we started? I had never travelled on one of France’s TGV super-fast trains and I must say I was impressed. The only difference between them and our proposed HS2 trains is that the French system runs mostly through open countryside. What seemed a blink of the eye, or maybe because I slept most of the way, the journey from Gare de Lyon to Avignon was the quickest, most comfortable train ride I have ever experienced. Our water-borne home for the next week, MV Lord Byron, was moored about a hundred yards, or should I say metres downstream of Avignon’s famous broken bridge where for some reason ‘l’on y dense tout en rond’. (‘Everyone is dancing in a circle’). The story behind this ancient bridge is that it was half demolished in a flood and when no one bothered to repair it, it became a tourist attraction, helped no doubt by a children’s song. Known officially as the Saint-Bénézet Bridge or Pont d’Avignon, originally the bridge was 899 metres long with 22 arches; but in 1226 it was almost totally destroyed by Louis VIII, and many subsequent floods. Attempts at restoration failed and the bridge has been a ruin since the 17th century. The city was by a Gallic tribe and later settled in turn by the Romans, Goths Saracens, Franks and the Holy Roman Empire. Avignon’s 15th century city wall still keeps traffic to a walking pace, protecting the sumptuous remains of the Papal Palace. Commissioned during the so-called Avignon Papacy when a total of seven popes reigned from Avignon, far away from trouble in Rome, it combines two buildings – the old Palace of Benedict XII which sits on top of the impregnable Rocher des Doms, and the ‘New’ Palace of Clement VI. After the death of Clement VI, the papacy eventually after much argument, reverted to Rome. Remains of brightly coloured frescos adorn the chapel walls where musicians and singers are still attracted by the perfect acoustics. The rest of the medieval city is immaculately preserved within the surrounding walls; pavement cafes, restaurants and colourful shops selling lavender-based products will tempt even the most blasé visitor, for here is a town designed for strollers. An evening cruise took us downstream to Arles. Here we were following in the footsteps of Vincent van Gogh. He came to this Provençal town, seeking its better light than Paris, using the region for many of his well-known works. He started almost immediately with ‘Starry night’, the riverside view he spotted on leaving the train. All around Arles it is easy to imagine him sitting outside places like his favourite ‘yellow’ café, or enjoying the tiny walled garden hidden away behind another of his watering holes. Hopefully he soon found the light he was after, but he wouldn’t have been so lucky if he came with us – it rained cats and dogs, fortunately the only serious rain for the whole trip. Mental problems led to the eccentric ear-severing incident and he spent time in the local hospital. Learning of plans to put him in an asylum he took himself off to nearby Saint-Rémy-de-Provence where he continued to paint. It was here that he produced some of his most renowned outdoor pictures, such as the ‘iris’, or his sunflower studies and mountain views of les alpilles, the bauxite limestone ridge above St Rémy. Long before van Gogh came to Arles, the Romans made it the administrative centre for the lower Rhône Valley. The town has an open-air Roman theatre still capable of accommodating thousands of spectators in the remarkably well preserved auditorium, and close by almost hidden amongst narrow back streets, the arena can still be used for bull fights. In the Provençal form of bull fighting, the bull is not killed and has a number of rosettes tied to various parts of his body. These must be snatched before the bull can attack the participants, who often come off rather badly for their efforts. Coaches took us a few miles to the west, beyond the Rhône to the Pont du Gard. This amazing feat of Roman engineering carries water across the River Gard carrying water from the Fontaine d’Eure to the city of Nîmes 20 km away. Although this city which had over 60,000 citizens was only 20 km away, due to the rough terrain the aqueduct had to travel about 50km. Even so, the difference between the start and finish was a mere 2.5 centimetres, in order to allow the water flow gradually into the wells and fountains of Nîmes. The three tiered aqueduct was built without mortar with each stone interlocking like pieces of Lego, miraculously without any significant loss of water. From the Lord Byron moored overnight back at Avignon, coaches took us into the Ardèche Gorges, a deep-cut ravine cut by a 30km meandering stretch of the River Doux to the west of Tournon, a small riverside town above Valence. The Doux has cut its way through massive layers of limestone, not unlike a series of cliffs like our High Tor as it towers above Matlock. Starting at the village of Lavas the river runs east in sharp twists and turns, flowing downstream until it comes to Aiguèz. A scenic motor road making even more torturous meanders, runs hundreds of feet above the river, following the line of the gorge, with view-points colonised by feral goats waiting for hand-outs. During the war, resistance groups created hideaways in the impenetrable shrub-covered moorland plateau, at one time hiding Jews
The Lost Houses of Derbyshire – Glapwell Hall
Glapwell Hall was a rather rambling stone house of later seventeenth century date, made more rambling by Georgian and Victorian additions, producing, as one former owner put it, ‘a house of comfort rather than conformity’. The rooves were a right jumble from above. It was built of coursed rubble with Permian magnesian Limestone/coal measures sandstone dressings, the earliest part being the west front, latterly stuccoed. This front consisted of two storeys with attics under three coped gables with ball finials, the wide centre one embracing all three bays of the seven bay façade, which was essentially flat. Whilst it no doubt originally had mullioned attic windows and mullion-and-transom ‘cross’ windows below, by the time it came to be photographed the windows had been replaced with glazing bar sashes of later eighteenth century type in the flat stone surrounds, those on the ground floor having been dropped to terrace level in the regency period. The central entrance was crowned by a segmental pediment, and latterly served as the access to the gardens. The general appearance of this façade was not unlike that of Carnfield Hall at Alfreton, which hides a much earlier core, and indeed, this may have been the case at Glapwell, too. The house was a double pile building, consisting of two parallel ranges, their ends facing north and south, the latter boasting a fine set of triple stacks with an original two light mullioned attic window below to show what the main front must have boasted originally. Below again a recessed reserve held a stone carved armorial shield with the arms of Hallowes, the family latterly most associated with the house. To the SE angler of this was added a mid-Victorian two storey range which ran round to the east from a full height canted bay with round arched plate glass windows. To this was added a new single storey entrance range of two arched Serliana or Venetian windows, that on the right included the new entrance door, all beneath a balustraded parapet with further ball finials. This was top lit, forming a bright space which partly masqueraded, aided by aspidistras and exotic plants, as a conservatory. Here with stone was ashlared, too and led to a south facing conservatory to the right of the door. Rising two storeys beyond this was a range of Queen Anne date of two storeys under a steeply pitched roof with attics dormers behind a parapet, and of three bays of sashes to the east, but continuing across the north end of the original house for form a west wing (facing north-south). This was topped be a tiny cupola and bell, marking the presence of a former domestic chapel, the origins of which went back to the twelfth century. There were extensive grounds including a small park, entered from the public road via a pair of Neo-Classical gate piers, today still surviving, listed grade two and supporting a pair of rather flimsy looking modern iron gates. The site’s history is very ancient, a capital mansion there being known since the twelfth century, built by the descendants of Serlo de Pleasley, who held it as feudal under-tenant from Hubert fitz Ralph, Lord of Crich, one of a small number of Domesday tantants. Serlo’s grandson was Simon fitz Serlo de Pleasley, who left three sons. The eldest, Serlo de Pleasley III inherited an estate at Ashover, whilst the third son William came into the manorial estate of Pleasley. His second son, Hugh, came into the manor of Glapwell c. 1180, and took his surname from the place (surnames still being rather fluid at that date and still confined to the upper crust). It was Hugh who probably built the first house on the site, and no doubt the domestic chapel, which needed re-roofing in c. 1260. The family continued there for two centuries, before in 1481 the heiress married into the family of Woolhouse, from whom it eventually passed to Samuel Hallowes of Dethick, by marriage with Elizabeth, daughter and sole heiress of Thomas Woolhouse of Glapwell. It was probably Thomas Woolhouse who built the earliest range, which was taxed in 1670 on nine hearths indicating that it was a house of relatively modest dimensions. His prosperity was, however, being increased by the discovery of coal on the estate. Samuel Hallowes, who no doubt added the Queen Anne range (perhaps on the site of a much earlier range) and probably re-ordered the original façade too, was the grandson of a Derby woollen draper, Nathaniel Hallowes, of a family from Youlgreave originally. He was a Presbyterian, keen supporter of the republican side in the Civil War, and was elected MP for Derby in the Long Parliament (sounds familiar!) replacing the deposed Cavalier MP William Allestrey, and served as Mayor of Derby in 1657. He was also a keen prosecutor of delinquents, as Parliament called the defeated Royalists, and his activities in this respect earned him three landed estates. So notorious was he that at the Restoration his Cromwellian grant of arms was annulled, albeit re-granted to his descendants in 1766. Nevertheless, his grandson was well endowed with property, to which the Glapwell estate no doubt made a happy addition. The family did well from exploiting their coal deposits, which doubtless explains the various additions. No doubt the domestic chapel was de-commissioned, although the land to the south of the house was always called Chapel Yard, as the family’s tradition for the knobblier forms of Anglicanism continued. Samuel’s eldest son, Thomas married well, his bride being Lady Catherine Brabazon, daughter of Chambré, 5th Earl of Meath, by a daughter of Viscount Chaworth, a Nottinghamshire grandee also boasting an Irish peerage. In 1861, Capt. Francis Hallowes, RN, inherited the estate from a cousin and, coming ashore, decided to make alterations. He it was who added the canted bay, the new entrance hall and the conservatory, probably to designs by the Derby partnership of William Giles and John Brookhouse, who were building a new house in Ashover
Taste Derbyshire – The Porcini Remained Elusive
Foraging for food in the Derbyshire Peaks may sound idyllic but, when the clouds are ominously heavy with rain, there is only one thing in nature’s larder which could drag me from my bed on a Sunday morning. In short, you can leave sweet chestnuts and sloe berries to the birds and bees. I want mushrooms. In spite of severe weather warnings, it seems I am not the only one answering the magical, mystical call of the wild mushroom. It warms the cockles to see fellow hunters and gatherers shuffling along in head-to-toe waterproofs waiting at the designated meeting spot; a car-park in the High Peak village of Hayfield. A total of nine hardy souls have ventured to take part in a ‘Funghi Foray’ – a four-hour adventure combining fresh air, al fresco dining and fascinating facts with Bengt Saxmark and his wife Deb Hampson of New Mills; self-confessed fanatics who run a wild mushroom business called Get Funghi. The couple are eminently qualified to help people like Jayne Fowler and husband Rob find out how to spot the good (edible and delicious) from the bad (edible but tasteless) and the down-right ugly (poisonous enough to wage a deadly war on your internal organs). “Rob and I go walking a lot with our dog and we’ve seen loads of mushrooms and often wondered if they’re edible,” says Jayne, of Chapel-en-le-Frith. “Our daughter bought us the event as a Christmas present as she thought it would be a good starting point for us.” Fortunately, our little party could not be in safer hands. Bengt, who hails from Gothenburg, has been keen on foraging for mushrooms since he was a boy and qualified as a mushroom consultant from Sweden’s Umeå University in 2006. “People are right to be cautious but it’s better if we encourage them to learn rather than scare them away,” he says. “Most of the ‘poisonous’ mushrooms aren’t fatal but will make you feel awful or give you dreadful stomach ache. If you are not 100 per cent sure, leave it for the maggots.” Two of the UK’s deadliest mushrooms belong to the amanita family; for this reason, Bengt begins every session by pointing out their common features which can include white gills below the cap, a ring on the stem and a sock or vulva at the base. “We will concentrate on beginner’s mushrooms which are almost impossible to mix up with anything else – unless you are colour blind,” Bengt explains while directing the group over a stile and into an open field. “A good beginner’s mushroom is the bright yellow chanterelle. Underneath the cap are ridges, not gills. There is no poisonous mushroom that looks like this.” My suggestion that poisonous mushrooms look dangerous – red and covered with white spots – is quickly dismissed. While there is a red, spotty mushroom (the fly agaric), Bengt insists nature’s warning signals don’t always help when it comes to mushrooms. “For instance, there is a mushroom with blood red sponge that turns blue when you cut it that is actually delicious,” Bengt says. “I took out a group of Italians who were convinced a mushroom is safe if it tastes good. Not true. The best way to start is to go out with an expert, do your homework, buy a book (Bengt and Deb recommend ‘Mushrooms’ by Roger Phillips) and make sure it is up-to-date. Mushrooms are often being re-classified.” It is only fitting that the first ‘spot’ of the day – a field mushroom on a field too far away to pick – belongs to Pete Camp and son Scott, of Congleton, who are attending their third foraying day. “My friends might say I’m becoming a mushroom bore,” Pete laughs. “Last year, I found a crop of porcini in Eyam, enough to make a nice starter for four on a crostini. Another time I came across what was almost certainly an edible scarletina bolete mushroom. I was 90 per cent sure but there was a ‘what if’ so I didn’t eat it.” At the start, our biggest problem seems to be distinguishing mushrooms from leaves. The first edible mushroom close enough to pick, a crop of waxcaps, are rejected as old and slimy. Undeterred, one of our intrepid bunch, Jameela Mian of Ashby, clambers over to a fallen log to investigate what looks to be brown ears growing on the bark. “Honey fungus – it is edible but not pleasant to eat,” says Bengt. “It’s often found at the base of trees and it attacks wood and plants so it’s not a friend to the gardener. It sounds sweet but the taste is slightly bitter and can upset the stomach.” Just when it looks like our baskets will remain empty, novice mushroom hunter Tara McGuirk strikes edible gold. “It’s called a hedgehog mushroom because it has soft spines under the cap,” says Bengt. “It has a firm texture, tastes slightly peppery and is very aromatic and it’s absolutely delicious. If it’s creamy white coloured and has spines instead of gills so it can’t be confused with anything else. It’s a beautiful mushroom.” Tara, who has travelled from Birmingham to take part, is clearly thrilled; “Do I get a certificate?” she laughs. Amazingly, the mushrooms, both edible and extra-ordinary, just keep on coming. In the next field along, Scott and Pete find a maitake; an edible mushroom also known as ‘hen of the woods’ because it resembles the feathers of a sitting hen. This find is followed by a flock of other mushrooms including one with the appearance of a filmy eye-ball. “A parrot waxcap,” Deb says. “Lovely to look at but far too slimy to eat.” As Bengt’s basket begins to fill, someone asks if there is a limit to the amount of mushrooms a forager can take. “Picking a mushroom does not damage it as 100 per cent of the mushroom’s mycelium (root-like fibres) is underground. We pick the fruiting body so it’s
Restaurant Review – The Sanam Tandoori Restaurant
Cooking in a traditional way has always been the priority at the Sanam on King Street Alfreton, and for the past 25 years they have stuck to that premise. Over that period of time they have seen restaurants come and go, some change hands. Their philosophy of providing quality food at a fair price has stood the test of time and they are immensely proud of their track record. The chef was trained in the art of blending spices by a leading international chef which explains the extensive and mouthwatering menu on offer at the Sanam. There’s everything on the menu you’d expect but straying onto the ‘chef’s specials’ section if you fancy something a little more exciting will really excite your taste buds. The sauces at the Sanam are rich in flavour and there’s plenty of substance to them. The Mirch Masala dish is full of strips of stir fried chicken with peppers, onions, tomatoes, ginger, garlic and a subtle tweek from the chef to add that special zing. The ginger is delicate in flavour and doesn’t overpower the meal. The blend of spices ensures a very balanced flavour. You get what you pay for where food is concerned, and the Sanam has that fine balance of quality food at a very reasonable price. Having dined regularly and had numerous takeaways from the Sanam it can be difficult to pick something new from the menu and not default to old favourites and so it was good to be able to chat to a chap who had come to fetch his takeaway and find out what he enjoyed. It was annoying to find that he had ordered the same as me! So no help there. Fish dishes at the Sanam are very popular and having taken the grandchildren along for an evening meal one the chef prepared a delightful salmon dish which they polished off with aplomb. Oh, they did have some fries too! The starters at the Sanam include regular favourites such as: Chicken Pakora, Daryayi Bazran served with a delicate mixed nut chat, fresh salmon marinated in fresh dill yoghurt, garlic and chefs special spices and roasted in a tandoor. Adraki lamb chops, juicy slices of lamb chops, marinated in garlic and spices, cooked in a tandoor and served with salad and sauce. Mains include:Jalfrezi Chicken a firm favourite of mine, the characteristic of this dish is the puree made of tomatoes, green peppers and onions which is then poured over the curry. Perfect. All in all a cracking night out is assured. Advanced booking is always a good idea. Call 01773 830690 00
Restaurant Review – Shapla Spice
Shapla Spice is one of the longest established restaurants in Ripley, Derbyshire. I must admit I drive past Shapla Spice almost every day and always thought it was a take away, how wrong was I? It was on a pleasant Friday evening that my partner and I were booked in to dine, it was then that we realised looks can be deceiving, as inside it is quite contemporary with about 30 covers, tables with white linen and modern leather chairs, soft lighting and an Anthurium flower on display on the table which was a nice touch, the tables are nicely spread out as well, so you don’t feel people are on top of you. We were greeted on our arrival by Ali the owner, who is incredibly passionate about the restaurant and the food. He went on to tell us that his brother in-law is the chef as well as his business partner and that the vision they have for Shapla Spice is to be bold and adventurous with the food, while at the same time providing a first class service. Shapla Spice is not licensed, so do take your own alcohol, they serve soft drinks though so you’re ok there. Let’s face it, sometimes it’s nice to take your own bottle of wine and not pay the inflated price when you receive the bill. After perusing the menu for a starter, I opted for the Shapla Kebab which is chicken and lamb tikka with salad, stir fried and rolled in thin bread, this was most unusual, as in all my time writing ‘dining out’ reports I have never tasted anything like this, it had a sweet, tangy taste with a hint of coriander and the bread it was wrapped in, was very light and not stodgy at all. I would say that this starter is enough for two though, as even with my partner helping we could not finish it, which was a shame because it tasted beautiful. For our mains I asked Ali to choose for us, I do this quite a lot when dining at Asian restaurants otherwise you end up ordering your old faithful, so sometimes it’s good to widen out and go for a dish you would not usually choose. I had the Bahari Jalfrezi, this was a lamb, spinach, potato and paneer dish served in mustard oil with crushed garlic and sliced green chillies. I found this dish to be medium spiced; the spinach and lamb with the mustard oil gave this meal a deep warmth with subtle hints of garlic. This dish is what I would call a dry dish so if you like more sauce with your dish go for the Doi Turka; a chicken tikka dish cooked in a rich garam masala marinade sauce, this dish was quite spicy which came as a shock to my partner as her old faithful is usually chicken korma but that did not seem to put her off as she ate it all. The sauce is of a creamy nature due to the natural yogurt it’s prepared with, this combined with the chillies gives a nice balance and being a masala sauce makes it a firm favourite. One thing you must try is ‘Daves’ special chips, you will not find these anywhere else as it was created by Shapla’s own chef, I wont tell you about them, I will let you find out for yourself why its a firm favourite with the locals. The Nan breads are cooked in a clay oven which makes such a difference, as otherwise you can end up with stodgy lumps of bread that end up being a meal all by themselves. Thankfully ours were light and well buttered. I recommend you go for the Kulcha Nan but I won’t tell you why, just order it for yourself and enjoy. Overall we found the dining experience and the food very pleasant, it’s worth noting the prices on the menu, not one of the meals is over £10, my Bahari Jalfrezi was £7.95 and my partner’s Doi Turka was the same price, so you can see it is very reasonable. Shapla Spice is of a size that you could book the whole restaurant for your own private function, which I know Ali would be happy to accommodate. Its also worth noting that Shapla have a Amber Valley Hygiene rating of 4 they are so proud of this that they even invite you to see the chef at work in their spotless kitchen. So if you’re looking for some new Asian dishes to try of good quality then the Shapla Spice is the place to head to. 00
Product Test – Skin Academy ZERO
Skin Academy has just launched the UK’s most eco-friendly beauty range, Skin Academy Zero. Skin Academy Zero is the first mass market, 100% natural, 100% recyclable / recycled packaging and sustainable skincare range that is set to shape the future of the beauty industry. The innovation sets a new environmental standard in the beauty industry, creating a product range which champions green, ethical practices in both how the products are made and how they are packaged, whilst not compromising on their quality and benefits to the skin. The range of six products feature; a night cream, a day cream, an eye cream, facial scrub, facial wash and hand cream, which are all made from 100% natural ingredients. There are zero artificial ingredients, fragrances or preservatives, zero parabens and zero SLES / SLS. The brand really is Zero by name and zero by nature and the entire product range is Vegan friendly too. Holly Wagman, NPD Manager for Skin Academy who is behind the pioneering launch said: “The concept comes from extensive research in to the sustainable beauty industry which we found to be practically non-existent! The formulation has taken us years to perfect but we are thrilled with the results of Zero. We are bringing to market the ultimate nourishing and deeply hydrating formula packed with 100% natural and sustainably sourced actives, all packaged in reusable, recyclable tubes made from sugar cane ethanol and cardboard boxes. “Our intention was to create a stand out range that allows consumers the luxury of natural, premium skincare at affordable prices, without damaging the environment. Our tagline for ZERO really is our brand ethos; we want our consumer to feel beautiful and confident in his or her own skin, recognising the importance of self-care whilst still helping provide an environmentally friendly future for all. “It’s ‘’Your Skin, Your Planet’’, so why can’t we care for both at the same time? We feel confident we can help customers make the conscious choice to drive sustainable skincare and protect our planet at the same time.” 00
Modern Collectibles – UK WW2 Propaganda Booklets
When I was quite small in the late 1940s, I recall leafing through some paper bound booklets of quite substantial length, packed full of pictures of the war at home, on land, on sea and in the air. I was riveted by them, fed by tales of how it all felt, for it was very green in the memories of my parents, grandparents and various aunts and uncles. One, called the Battle of Britain August – October 1940 thrilled me, simply because aircraft thrilled me. Another, called Front Line 1940-1941 became a favourite because it contained a photograph of the lady who was then my nanny, called by me ‘Tatty’. In fact she was called Maude, and was recruited to the war effort in London because she could drive, not a universal accomplishment for women in those days. Thus with the blitz in full swing, Maude drove an ambulance. The auxiliary nurse who went with her as her crew was my grandmother, Margery, and their bond was strengthened by the horrors and fatigue of those grim months. Maude’s bachelor flat was soon bombed out and thereafter, at Granny’s suggestion she lodged with us. Thus, inside the publication in question, one of the morale-raising booklets published by the Ministry of Information throughout the war, was included a photograph of Maude, complete with tin hat and gas mask, at the door of her vehicle looking anxiously up at the night sky, dramatically captioned ‘It was her business to get there.’ Pity they missed Granny, though! Their worst time, funnily enough was not in the blitz proper but during the V-1 bombardment in late summer and autumn 1944 which unleashed the worst devastation they ever saw and stretched them to the limit. When I was born, with the V-1 threat safely over, she stayed on as my nanny for four or five years before entering the family properly by marrying an uncle who worked at GCHQ in Chislehurst. Astonishing how the war brought people together. What gives a book popular appeal was the question posed by the officials of the Ministry of Information’s Publications Unit during 1941. The way that it was answered led to the creation of these well-produced and well-written booklets and resulted in sales numbering in the tens of millions. By the end of the war, Ministry books were an established part of the country’s reading. Indeed, by collecting every one of the fairly lengthy series, one might accumulate a complete history of the Second World War from the British point of view. The Ministry’s internal discussion over popularity began with the publication of a book which proved to be its most successful. The Battle of Britain, written by the popular author Hilary Saunders, was revised by the Ministry after it became a surprise best-seller in March 1941. The Ministry-edition boasted a superbly designed illustrated cover, eye-catching diagrams and action photographs. It sold 4.8 million copies in Britain in the six months following its release. A version published by the RAF lacked pictures and although much rarer comes in at about the same price in top quality condition: £12-£18. The Front Line, one can buy in good condition for between £6 and £10, and indeed I paid £4 for a tatty copy just to scan Auntie Maude in to illustrate this article! At Bamfords we invariably sell them in groups or with other items, but as a rule of thumb about £2-£5 a copy would be the calculator, although retail for copies of most titles in good condition vary from £20 to £40. The Battle of Britain’s success was followed by that of the 126 page Bomber Command. This paperback was based on interviews with returning aircrew and promised to tell the story of a battle unlike any ‘fought before in the history of mankind;’ it quickly sold 1.25 million copies. Today even a scruffy edition will make £5-£8, a good one £15-£20: 310 today. The rarest one was an unillustrated booklet called How Hitler made the War, which was a cleverly arranged collection of actual foreign office documents 1933-1939 published in extract which speak entirely for themselves. It showed how Nazi Germany reneged on its Pact with Poland, and the final chapter, written by Sir Nevile Henderson (the British ambassador to Germany), is on Hitler and Hitlerism, demonstrating that Hitler had ‘made this war’ and should bear full responsibility. The scale of suffering and sacrifices that civilians were likely to experience persuaded the Government in 1939 that, although the war that Britain had declared against Nazism was widely acknowledged as being inevitable, it would still require explanation, hence this booklet and two others along the same lines. Neither were there any pictures in these – W H Smith told the Government (incorrectly as it turned out), that nobody would want to buy it; How Hitler, was a snip at 3d (1.25p), but such is its rarity that a copy in pristine condition will set you back well north of £30. The Battle of Britain like its successors, used a mixture of texts, maps and images to create a narrative. They were intended to be cheap, their content was to be ‘dramatic, human, [and] lively’, and they were to be heavily illustrated and drew inspiration from contemporary illustrated magazines like Picture Post and Illustrated. Generically these tomes were and are called ‘Official War Books’. Titles like Coastal Command, His Majesty’s Minesweepers (around £22 now), Roof over Britain and Transport Goes to War (which I loved, as it was mainly about trains, another enthusiast I enjoyed as an infant – £10 today) aimed to ‘tell the British war story’ by providing insight into particular parts of the war effort. Each book (of which in some cases there was more than one impression, sometimes with a different cover) was based upon at least one of the main themes of Ministry propaganda, eg. the laudable ‘the projection of Britain as a progressive, efficient, equalitarian democracy’; they were also regarded as a good
Celebrity Interview – Rick Wakeman
At the age of 70 most people probably think about taking life a little bit easier. But not Rick Wakeman. Even after three heart attacks because of an unhealthy lifestyle and at one point being given only 24 hours to live, the keyboard virtuoso is still going strong. He’s just finished his first solo tour of the United States and Canada in 13 years and is now undertaking a 12-date tour of England to promote his latest album. It’s difficult to know how many albums he has to his name: the keyboard player, songwriter, author and television and radio presenter has released more than 90 as a solo artist as well as a number with contemporary rockers Yes. He’s also put out a few with his own rock band The English Rock Ensemble, which includes his son Adam on keyboards. So why does he carry on? “It’s my privilege to be able to play on stage to people,” Rick told me during a break in his American tour which he said went “extremely well” and was “most enjoyable”. He added: “I have the best job possible because the great thing is – it isn’t a job!” Rick is one of the few people who can truly be called a legend. Wakeman fans in Derbyshire will get the chance to see him in The Grumpy Old Christmas Show when it visits Buxton Opera House, a venue that Rick has played several times before. “I love playing there and I’m fond of Buxton too. I always try to arrive early so I can have a wander around. “Audiences are pretty much the same everywhere you go. That’s the joy of being able to do what I do; you’re able to visit so many different places and meet so many nice people. I have very good friends in Buxton who I always look forward to meeting up with.” Rick officially became grumpy when he joined the conversational-style television series Grumpy Old Men in 2003. So it was fairly predictable that he called his trip to the United States The Grumpy Old Rock Star Tour. “That was exclusively for America really and the Christmas show is called Grumpy Old Christmas to match my grumpiness! There’ll be elements of grumpiness as I talk about some of the things in the festive season that drive me nuts and I’m sure I won’t be the only one! “Most of the music will come from the new album Portraits although a few other pieces will find their way onto the set as well as a few surprises.” The new offering features 14 tracks made up of 22 classics. “I unashamedly have to say I’m thrilled with the finished product,” said Rick. “It’s just piano playing lots of melodies that everyone knows but in a totally different way. You’ll certainly recognise them all but I wouldn’t try to sing along!” Richard Christopher Wakeman was born on 18 May 1949 in Perivale, London. When he was seven his father paid for him to have weekly piano lessons which lasted for 11 years. In 1968 he secured a place at the Royal College of Music with the intention of becoming a concert pianist. He left the following year to become a full-time session musician, playing on David Bowie’s Space Oddity among many other songs. The money was good but he felt he wasn’t getting a chance to be part of the music. So he joined folk rock group Strawbs. After a couple of years he left when he faced “one of the most difficult decisions” of his career: whether to join Bowie’s backing band The Spiders from Mars or Yes. He thought the prog rock band would give him more career opportunities. Altogether he’s been part of the group five times. Its latest line-up, known as Yes Featuring Jon Anderson, Trevor Rabin, Rick Wakeman – otherwise known as ARW – will tour for the last time next year. There are “so many reasons” why Rick has kept going back to Yes but “my fun with ARW will be the last. Everything comes to an end and it’s reached that point for me. “Travelling does tire you but I try to pace myself as best as I can and will continue to do so as long as my health hangs in there!” Shortly after joining Yes, Rick also pursued solo projects. His first three concept albums, The Six Wives of Henry VIII, Journey To The Centre Of The Earth and The Myths And Legends Of King Arthur And The Knights Of The Round Table, were his most successful. His lifestyle, though, proved problematic. He suffered three heart attacks in his twenties due to smoking and heavy drinking. He quit smoking and in 1985, after being taken ill during a tour of Australia, he stopped drinking; he’s been teetotal ever since. So what’s his health like now? “Not bad at all, to be honest. I continually struggle with my weight but apart from that I wake up breathing every day and long may it continue as I’ve got loads still to do in my life.” Rick made a name for himself not only for his unmistakeable, highly complex music but also his long hair and his flamboyant capes. His wicked sense of humour, charm and geniality have led to his being signed up for programmes as diverse as Just A Minute on BBC Radio 4 and Have I Got News For You and Watchdog on television. Despite that, does the music come first? “I suppose it does really. But I love doing all the other stuff as well. At the end of the day, I always end up sitting at the piano.” Married four times and with six children, Rick lives with journalist, writer, director and actress Rachel Kaufman in Norfolk. They wed nearly eight years ago. How big a role does Christianity play in the life of the man who learned to play a church organ and who was a Sunday
