A Rainy Day in Dumfries (2) Caerlaverock Castle: Scotland 23 Part 6

This is a new post though it covers the events of the 22nd of July 2023
It will be moved to its appropriate chronological position shortly.

A Triangular Castle and a Tapas Dinner

A Brief Recap

Scotland

Dumfries & Galloway

On the 21st of July we had driven 260 miles south from Findochty to Dumfries (for the many American visitors to this blog that is pronounced Dum-freece). For much of his life Dumfries was the home of Robert Burns, Scotland’s (unofficial) national poet. On the morning of the 22nd we set out to walk the town’s Burns Trail. It involved so many interesting places, not all connected with Burns, that by lunch time I had reached my self-imposed limit on the length of a blog post. That post became A Rainy Day in Dumfries Part 1 and this post tidies up the afternoon and evening.

Findochty, Dumfries and the Dumfries & Galloway District

The River Nith

After a sandwich and a cup of tea in the town centre, we returned to our hotel, picked up the car and drove the 11km south-east to Caerlaverock Castle, following the River Nith almost to the Solway Firth. I finished the previous post with Burn's ode ‘The Banks o’ Nith’ but I do not think it was this bit of the Nith he was eulogising. For its final few kilometres, the river is tidal. At low tide it is a narrow stream running between wide muddy banks while at high tide inflow exceeds outflow, and for an hour or so the Nith becomes more a lake than a river.

The River Nith when the tide is in

Caerlaverock Castle

Caerlaverock Castle was built in the 13th century as a stronghold for Clan Maxwell. At the time, I presume, it overlooked the river mouth but that is now hidden behind Castle Wood. The area had previously accommodated a Roman Camp and then a Brittonic hill fort

Scotland has a wealth of wonderful place names that roll off the tongue and entice the imagination, but Caerlaverock is not one of them, it just feels wrong.

What’s in a Name?

13th century Dumfries was linguistically diverse but Gaelic and Norse were in decline, Norman French was confined to the nobility and Early Scots was emerging as the dominant language – though whether Scots is a language or an English dialect can become a heated debate. Laverock is Scots for ‘skylark,’ but what warlord in his right mind would invoke the power of a skylark?

‘Caer’ means 'fort', not in Gaelic (that would be dùn – as in Dumfries) but in Welsh, where it is a common prefix in place names - Caerdydd (Cardiff), Caernafon (Carnavon). Llafar (a single ‘f’ is pronounced as ‘v’ in Welsh) means ‘talking’ and there is more than one Afon Llafar in Wales – like a babbling brook - but with alliteration only in the second syllable. -Og, meaning ‘having the quality of’ is a suffix in Welsh place names like Ffestiniog.

Having translated the implausible Caerlaverock to the plausible Caerllafarog, we appear to have a Welsh place name in Scotland. So that needs explaining

Some History

When the Romans arrived, the island they called Brittania was occupied by a patchwork of tribes speaking various Brittonic dialects and living in peace with their neighbours, except when they quarrelled or felt like some raiding. The Romans introduced order, law and peace. Some tribal leaders bought into this, adopting Roman names and Roman lifestyles but few did as well as King Tiberius Claudius Togidubnus of the Atrebates in what is now Sussex. His huge palace with baths, underfloor heating and mosaic floors, was rediscovered in 1960 and visited by us in in in 2008.

In 410 the Romans went home, taking the rule of law with them. Petty kingdoms sprouted and withered. Their inhabitants did not write much, and what is known comes largely from oral history written down in the 11th and 12th centuries

In 537 King Gwenddoleu ap Ceidio was defeated and killed by King Rhydderch Hael of Strathclyde at the Battle of Arfderydd, Gwenddoleu’s bard, Myrddin Wyllt, reportedly went mad and ran into the forest. Arfderydd was near Caerlaverock and all the names are Welsh. Myrddin the bard may even have featured in the Arthurian legends (other claimants exist).

Britain in 800 CE

Later Angles, Jutes and Saxons began to arrive. When I was at school, I was taught the incoming invaders butchered the Ancient Britons pushing the survivors into Wales and Cornwall. DNA analysis now suggests that did not happen, they were migrants rather than invaders and quietly merged with local inhabitants. What did get pushed west was the Brittonic, Old Welsh, language.

By by 800 the petty kingdoms of what is now England (more or less) had been reduced to seven as shown on the map.

The problem with the map (apart from labelling Wales  'North Wales' and Cornwall ‘West Wales’) is that it makes no distinction between two very different Brittonic languages. The Kingdom of Dalriada, just north of Strathclyde was the land occupied by the Scoti when they migrated from Ireland (late 4th/early 5th centuries), bringing the Gaelic tongue with them. The Picts disappeared, probably merging with the Scoti, leaving some enigmatic stone carvings, but little more. The Gaelic language was very different from the Old Welsh used in Strathclyde, Wales and Cornwall.

Gaelic became the dominant language in the north of what is now Scotland, while by the 11th century English had become dominant in what would become southern Scotland and Cumbria. It is, however, very possible that some anglicised versions of Old Welsh names survive - like Caerlaverock.

Enough of this, Back to the Castle

Castles are usually highly visible, that is the point of them, but Caerlaverock remains hidden from a distance, being being built in a slight dip.

It is also triangular. The apex facing inland is truncated, with two round towers merging to form a gatehouse

Caerlaverock Castle

A closer view shows the moat is still present, but the drawbridge has been replaced by a fixed bridge.

A fixed bridge where once was a drawbridge, Caerlaverock Castle

Above the door, in carved sandstone is the crest of the Clan Maxwell, ‘a stag couchant under a holly bush.’ The inevitable erosion of softish stone means the bush is barely recognisable as holly.

The Clan Maxwell crest over the gate

Sadly, the gate is currently locked and visitors are not allowed inside. Scottish Heritage own Caerlaverock, and many other piles of old stone, and after a recent rockfall they have temporarily closed several ruins so they can be surveyed and, if necessary, made safe. I have no desire to be crushed by tumbling rocks, and there was no charge for the visit, so I cannot complain.

The photo of the gate rather foreshortens the castle, and loses its triangularity. A drone would be useful here. I do not have one, but Simon Ledingham does and he has kindly donated the photo below to Wikipedia. I reproduce it here under CC BY-SA 2.0.

Simon Ledingham's aerial view of Caerlaverock Castle. It really is triangular!
The cuboid building with nine windows, looks out of place in a medieval castle. It is the Nithsdale Lodgings - see later

Caerlaverock in the First Scottish War of Independence

The First Scottish War of Independence lasted from 1296 to 1328, which make it sound worse than it was. Some years there were summer campaigns by one protagonist or another, some years nothing happened.

Scotland had a succession problem, and rather foolishly had asked Edward I of England to choose their new king. He wanted to answer ‘ME!’ but instead appointed John Baliol, a man so pliable Edward could have used him as a glove puppet. Edward was a first-class war lord – not a quality I admire, but he was good at it and would probably have ruled Scotland but for his death from dysentery while marching north in 1302. His son Edward II was very different and after loosing to Robert the Bruce at Bannockburn in 1314 it was all over bar the shouting – which lasted 14 years.

The important battles, Stirling Bridge (1297) and Bannockburn were fought in or near Stirling. We visited both sites in 2022, and there is more about this war in my Stirling post.

The eastern Gatehouse Tower and East Range

Sir Herbert Maxwell and his garrison were besieged in Caerlaverock in 1300 by Edward I with a force of 3,000 well-armed men. After two days spirited defence Maxwell surrendered. Finding the castle was garrisoned by only 50 men. Edward was impressed they had held out so long.

In 1312 Sir Eustace Maxwell (Herbert had died) swapped sides and the castle was returned. Edward II even paid to upgrade the fortifications.

He then promptly swapped sides again. This led to a second English siege which was repulsed, but Sir Eustace part dismantled his own castle to prevent the English gaining such an important stronghold. Robert the Bruce paid him for this service.

Caerlaverock in the Second Scottish War of Independence 1332-57

King Robert I (the Bruce) died in 1329 aged 54. His son King David II was aged two, so Edward Baliol (son of John) saw an opportunity. Aided, and sometimes hindered by Edward III (son of Edward II) he fought a series of regents for the crown. Edward was distracted by French threats of invasion and in 1336 decided to invade France himself and press his claim to be the King of France. Much of the latter part of the war involved David raiding in England in support of France. He was captured, spent time in the Tower of London, was eventually ransomed and became undisputed King of Scotland on Edward Baliol’s death in 1364.

Caerlaverock Castle 1832, JMW Turner
Original in Aberdeen Art Gallery

By 1337 the castle was rebuilt and Sir Eustace declared for Edward Baliol. Some years passed, but inevitably, it was taken by forces loyal to David II, and part dismantled.

In the late 14th century, Caerlaverock was regained by the Maxwells and Sir Robert Maxwell did much rebuilding from from 1373. Some decades later another Robert, now styled 2nd Lord Maxwell reconstructed the gatehouse, among other improvements.

The Reformation

In 1567 Mary Queen of Scots was forced to abdicate. The Catholic Maxwells took up her cause and in 1570 Caerlaverock was besieged by an English Protestant force. It was, yet again, partly demolished and the gatehouse was blown up with gunpowder.

In 1619 Robert, 10th Lord Maxwell was in favour with James VI (by then also James I of England). He was appointed to the Scottish Privy Council and made Earl of Nithsdale. To reflect his new status, he started building the ‘Nithsdale Lodging.’

Looking into the castle through the demolished South Range towards the Nithsdale Lodgings

Judging the great days of castles to be over, the Nithsdale Lodgings were an attempt to turn a medieval castle into a comfortable 17th country house. They were too soon, the Gordon family made the same mistake at Huntly in Aberdeenshire, but got it right at nearby Fyvie (see Huntly and Fyvie)

Close up of the The Nithsdale Lodgings

In the dark local stone, the Nithsdale Lodgings look forbidding rather than welcoming. The semi-circles above each window have carvings of family arms, scenes of divine and earthly love and episodes from Greek mythology. Their attempt to evoke the Italian Renaissance, now better evokes the Scottish weather.

Being a Catholic in a Scotland now gripped with Protestant fervour was not easy. Six years after the Nithsdale Lodgings were completed, Caerlaverock was besieged by a Protestant Covenanter army and forced to surrender after 13 weeks. The Earl and Countess of Nithsdale and their page were allowed to leave, but the 40 defenders were put to the sword. The south wall and tower were demolished, and the castle was abandoned.

A Tapas Dinner

We too abandoned Caerlaverock, and returned to Dumfries aware that we had neglected to organise dinner. Chips shops are always available, but a seat in a restaurant in Dumfries on Saturday night, requires booking.

Our affable hosts at the Hill Hotel (which I recommend) had provided us with a list of possibilities yesterday and we started phoning. We eventually found a berth in The Bank Bar and Tapas Restaurant, a newish restaurant and a newish idea for Dumfries.

We walked into town – after relenting at Caerlaverock, the drizzle had returned – and found the Bank to be a large modern building stuffed with drinkers and diners. It was loud – Scottish bars are often louder than English bars – and that was not helped by the Hen Party in the corner. They became quieter when the serious eating started and we had left before the serious drinking begun.

The Spanish tend to eat their main meal at lunchtime (2.30ish). Those choosing to eat out in the evening normally arrive at restaurants around 10pm, thus leaving an early spot for bars selling dinks and snacks on small plates. The first Tapas bars in this country followed the Spanish template, but our earlier dining time means they have morphed into restaurants selling full meals, but on multiple small plates – three per average dinner. They have also forgotten their Spanish roots, our six plates had origins spread across Europe, Asia and the Caribbean; some were meaty, some fishy, some veggie, some spicy, some not.  Each plate was a complete dish, the variety was fascinating and we enjoyed the experience far more than we had anticipated.

The next day we drove home to Staffordshire.

Scotland 2023

Part 1 Falkirk
Part 2 Banff and Macduff
Part 3 Pitmedden Gardens and Haddo House
Part 4 Lossiemouth to Elgin
Part 5 A Rainy Day in Dumfries (1) Robert Burns
Part 6 A Rainy Day in Dumfries (2) Caerlaverock Castle

Cooking the Kerala Way: Kerala and More Part 1

This is a new post though it covers the events of the 25th and 26th of February 2024
It will be moved to its appropriate chronological position shortly.

25-Feb-2024

Our Return to Kochi and a Jet-Lagged Cooking Lesson

Getting There (The Cooking Comes Later)

We flew from Birmingham to Dubai on a full Emirates A380 – I find it mind-boggling that every day 500+ people want to travel from the English Midlands to Dubai, but there we all were. Our flight connected with another Emirates flight to Kochi (still known as Cochin in the aviation world) in Kerala on the west coast of India.

26-Feb-2024

We left Birmingham on schedule and reached Kochi on time, but the small hours of the morning (UAE time) introduced some unwelcome excitement. Congestion in Dubai led to an hour flying in circles over the Persian Gulf followed by a dash across the airport, the second busiest in the world and consequently vast. A train eventually deposited us at the appropriate terminal; where we found the departure gate empty except for the one member of the ground crew waiting just for us. Emirates would not leave us behind, but we were surprised and relieved that our suitcases also made the flight.

India

Kerala

Foreign visitors to India are fingerprinted and photographed. Our experience at Kochi was a warning about what might happen when a similar EU system is introduced. The queue was not long, the French group in front of us numbered less than two dozen, but clearing them took well over an hour. The fingerprint machines are fussy, many boxes of tissues were used wiping screens and fingers and still multiple attempts were needed each for set of prints – and they want three from each person - left hand, right hand and thumbs. As previous visitors our fingerprints were already on file, we were quickly through, but we had still had to wait in the same queue. The EU keep putting off introducing their scheme, if an Indian regional airport spends more than an hour processing a couple of dozen, European holiday destinations would be overwhelmed, and they know this.

Kochi, in India's south west corner

Into Kochi

Once through the formalities we quickly found the representative of the ever-reliable Pioneer Holidays - the Kochi-based company we discovered on our first Indian trip and have used ever since - and he introduced us to Sasi who would be our driver for the next 16 days.

The City of Kochi has a population of 680,000 and is the centre of a metropolitan district of 2.1 million, making it the biggest conurbation in Kerala. It is not the state capital, that is Thiruvananthapuram (we visited 2016), which has more letters but fewer inhabitants.

The airport is north-east of the city, some 35-40 Km from the Fort Kochi district where we would be staying. This was our third visit to Kochi, so we were prepared for this short journey to take 90 minutes. It mattered not, the morning was still fresh, and we had little chance of checking-in at our accommodation before midday.

Since our last visit in 2106, Kochi had acquired a metro system. Like those we have used in Delhi and Bangkok, it is above the road, not under the ground.

Under the Kochi Metro

Sasi battled with the traffic through Ernakulam and over Willingdon Island – built in the 1930s from the sediment dredged up when the British Royal Navy enlarged the docks...

Kochi

…and into the smaller, quieter streets of Fort Kochi where most tourists hang out.

Quieter roads, Kochi

Whether streets are busy or quiet, Indian traffic moves with its own bewildering logic which I gave up trying to fathom several thousand kilometres ago. A bemused Frenchman once suggested it must be easier for me, as India, like the UK, drives on the left. I think it was a joke. I have confidently driven the length and breadth of France and several other European countries but I do not drive in India; I happily sat beside Sasi, and previously Thomas Joseph, Thomas Matthew, Umed Singh and Laxman, all professionals with long experience of Indian conditions.

The Tea Bungalow

Sasi deposited us at the Tea Bungalow.

The Tea Bungalow and 'our' car

‘Bungalow’ was derived by the British from Bangla (meaning ‘of Bengal’) to describe the typical Bengali single-story dwellings with a wide veranda. They adopted the style for housing administrators in the British Raj, who then took the term home.

Bungalows are common in the UK. They have lost the veranda – it does not suit our climate – and the word now refers to a small, single-story building standing on its own plot. Bungalows are favoured by the elderly as they have no pesky stairs. Our next move, in a year or two, will be to a bungalow closer to our daughter – because that is what old people do.

The Tea Bungalow clearly does not fall within this definition of ‘bungalow,’ but having invented the word, British English kindly donated it to Indian English. The Indian usage keeps the idea of a house on its own plot, remembers it was an administrator’s house, and thus sizeable, but has forgotten that it was single-storey. An Indian bungalow is suitable for conversion into a Guest House, a British Bungalow is not.

Tea bungalow veranda

Built in 1912 for coir exporters United Carpets, and bought from them in 1965 by Brooke Bond Tea, The Tea Bungalow was named by its current owners, the Dempo family from Goa who have diversified into hospitality after three centuries exporting coconuts.

Tea Bungalow breakfast room

We were greeted by several members of the Pioneer staff, including Adrian a smartly dressed young man (I have now reached an age when everyone - except the Pope - looks young) to whom I have spoken on many occasions, but never met. One of his jobs is to phone round clients every two or three days to check that all is well. It is probably in my head, but he always sounds mildly disappointed when, yet again, we have no problem for him to solve.

The staff at The Tea Bungalow were slightly less welcoming and made us wait right up to 12.00 clock before checking us in. After being up all night, what we really wanted was sleep – and at 12.05 …zzzz.

ATM Difficulties

India is a cash economy, so we needed cash. The government though wishes more transactions to go through banks and thus be transparent to the tax authorities. To this end they de-monetised the 500 and 1,000 rupee notes (worth roughly £5 and £10) in November 2016. Holders of the notes were given a brief window to exchange them for new ₹500 and ₹2,000 notes. [They held a competition in 2010 to design a rupee sign and ₹ won. I wonder what the losers could have looked like.] Remarkably 99.3% of the 15.3 trillion rupees de-monetised were exchanged, meaning the whole disruptive, stressful and expensive business was a waste of time – and part of the missing 0.7% resides in my foreign currency box upstairs.

The old 500 rupee note - now just a piece of dirty paper

The ₹2,000 note, we discovered, was not a good idea either, I do not know if Prime Minister Modi (himself a Gujarati) has ever wandered round rural Gujarat trying to buy something with a ₹2,000 note – nobody has change for such a massive sum of money. But now the unloved 2,000 has disappeared making ₹500 the biggest note – Indian paper money stops where British paper money starts. This may have achieved the original intention; the need to carry suitcases full of banknotes is a strong disincentive to making large cash payments.

The new, smaller 500 rupees - this can still but a cheap meal

After several hours sleep we turned our attention to money. Our attempts at withdrawing ₹10,000 were unsuccessful – perhaps not too disappointing as the ATMS offered only 100 or 200 notes. 1 accidently persuaded one to part with ₹200, but the situation needed dealing with.

Jeanett’s Cooking – At Last

Sasi arrived at the appointed time to take us to our cooking lesson. We told him our problem and failed at the first ATM he stopped at, but succeeded at the second. He then explained the new (at least to us) government regulation at the root of our difficulties. No ATM may give out more than 40 banknotes. Most ATMs only have 100s or 200s so their maximum is ₹4,000 or ₹8,000. For ₹10,000 or ₹20,000 we needed an ATMs with 500s.

Sasi drove us south down Kochi’s peninsula to the home of Jeanett (erroneously 'Jeanette' in Tripadvisor and similar sites) and Oscar Fernandes where we were warmly welcomed into their front room. Jeanett is a retired teacher (as are we) who set up a post-retirement business giving cookery demonstrations to tourists, though with just two of us it would be more hands-on.

Do you like okra? She asked. We suggested- as she had anticipated - that it was not our favourite food. 'Too slimy?’ We nodded. ‘It does not have to be’ she said opening a large hatch to reveal her kitchen, and daughter Tania with a bowl of carefully wiped non-slimy okra.

Tania and a bowl of Okra

Unfortunately, sliminess is not my only okra problem. In 1987 during our brief residence in Sudan, I cooked okra and fed it to family and friends. Nobody like it much. The next day I was struck by the worst food-poisoning I have ever endured, wiping me out for over a week. The okra was not at fault, but the two events had come together in my head. It was time to face my fears.

Fortunately, I have no problem with coconut oil, Kerala is a bad place for those who do.

Coconut oil

Tania heated up the oil and added the non-slimy okra.

The okra goes into the oil

There are onions and shallots, spices, curry leaves and chillies to be added yet…

More ingredients

…. but for the moment the okra pauses here.

The okra can rest now

While Jeanett takes over with a fish curry. With it long coast line, Kerala is the sort of place where people eat fish. Some of their fish are familiar, others are not known in Atlantic waters and have no English name, but I suspect this is Kingfish.

Jeanett starts a fish curry

It was time for Lynne to earn her keep, and she was put to work crushing shallots…

Lynne crushes shallots

…and putting them in hot oil.

Shallots into hot oil

Jeanett adds some a garlic and ginger paste.

In goes the garlic and ginger

We also had to go through the ritual discussion about how many chillies to add. Tradition demands the local host tries to bargain the number down, as they do not want to burn your delicate western palate, or upset your delicate western stomach. I always try to argue them up, because neither Lynne nor I are particularly delicate. Your host, of course, doubts that you really understand the level of spiciness they are talking about. Eventually we agreed on the usual number of chillies, but with the seeds removed from the red ones. It is not polite to argue too hard with your hosts – and of course, if you do overdo it, you look a fool,

Spices and curry leaves find their way in

Finally, the coconut milk and fish are added, and the curry can be left to bubble.

That's got all the ingredients together

To finish the okra it was necessary to call in an expert.

A master at work

I have already got the curry leaves in – they are more important in Kerala than elsewhere – and now it is time to add whatever is in that little pot, …

I think we need some of this

…. and then reintroduce the okra.

Finished now

We had made our contribution; the hatch was replaced and Jeanett and Tania went about finishing off the dishes and adding a few more. Oscar, who previously had nothing to do, offered us some of his home-made ginger ‘wine’ and talked to us. The non-alcoholic wine was a remarkably professional product with a good gingery kick and Oscar seemed unlikely to run out of anecdotes however long the finishing touches took.

At some point the son of the house returned from work. He retired to change out of his suit and as soon as he was ready, dinner was served.

Dinner is served, rice, fish curry, beans, okra and something else

We had not eaten since arriving in Indian ten hours ago and I was ready for it. The fish curry was very good – though it would have been fine to leave in the chilli seeds, but the prawns – actually spicier – were truly memorable, a subtle combination of spices and seafood. And the okra? Yes, I would eat it again, indeed I would choose to eat it again, but I would not cook it myself, I would leave that to a professional like Jeanett.

And an excellent dinner it was

Well fed, happy and feeling just a little sleepy though it was hardly 8 o’clock, we took our leave of our hosts. Sasi reappeared exactly when required – as good drivers have a knack of doing – and we returned to the Tea Bungalow.

And Finally

This is our third trip to Kochi, for more regular tourist stuff see Kochi: A Second Visit (2016)

Kerala and More

Part 1: Cooking the Kerala Way
Part 2: Kochi: Not Really a Free Day

and much more to come

Kenilworth: Dining at The Cross and Gawping at the Castle

A Castle and a Restaurant Review

Kenilworth: The Where and The What

Warwickshire

Warwick District

Kenilworth (pop:22,000) is a market town in the Warwick district of Warwickshire. It is a pleasant, compact place surrounded by lush green countryside, or so it feels. But just beyond the fields to the north is the Metropolitan Borough of Coventry, and to the south are Leamington and Warwick, separate municipalities divided only by the width of the river Avon. Kenilworth is no isolated country town.

Warwickshire

Kenilworth: The Why

To the northwest, though the map does not show it, is a rural portion of the Metropolitan Borough of Solihull, the least urban, some might say the most pleasant, of the West Midlands' seven metropolitan boroughs. Lynne and I were married in Solihull’s Parish Church of St Alphege on the 26th of July 1975. So today is our 49th wedding anniversary.

Our habit of many years is to visit somewhere pleasant with a renowned restaurant and enjoy what we hope will be an outstanding dinner. This year’s chosen venue was the Michelin starred The Cross in Kenilworth. But Kenilworth is also home to a large and in some ways unusual castle, so it would be odd not to visit while it was nearby.

Kenilworth Castle

Such elegant ruins

Kenilworth Castle is a unique collection of structures, built in the local red sandstone over a period of 500 years. Here is a breathlessly brief history of its construction

In 1120 Roger de Clinton, Henry I’s chancellor, turned an existing Norman keep into a strong tower. King John added an outer wall in the early 1200s and dammed two brooks to create a mere defending two thirds the castle perimeter. In the 1300s John of Gaunt built the middle range. In the 1550s John Dudley widened the tilt yard and built the stable block. A decade later his son Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester built the massive Leicester Tower and the Italian Garden. Like most English castles Kenilworth was ‘slighted’ after the Civil War. In 1649, just before the slighting the London based Bohemian etcher and artist Wenceslaus Hollar drew a plan of the castle which is still useful.

Wenceslaus Tollar's plan of Kenilworth Castle (property of Toronto University)

Had I attempted to take the photograph below any time between 1200 and 1700, I would have been standing in the mere – and, of course, I would have no camera.

King John's Curtain Wall and the surviving main buildings, Kenilworth Castle

From the mere we made our way up to the tiltyard (24 on Hollar’s Plan). This is the top of the dam that created the mere, levelled and widened for use in jousting. At the end of the tiltyard, we entered the castle through what remains of Mortimer’s Tower (23). Inside we turned right and descended to John Dudley’s stable block (6)….

Stable block (photographed from the left, though we approached from the right)

..not because we are interested in Tudor horse accommodation, but because it is now the café. It was lunchtime and cup of tea and a cheese scone felt a appropriate. It also gave us the opportunity to marvel at the carpentry of the wooden roof.

Stableblock roof

Fed and watered we walked up across the base court (22) to look at the main buildings.

Main Buildings, Kenilworth Castle

On the right is Roger de Clinton’s tower, buildings 16 and 20 have gone, John of Gaunt’s Mid-Range (14 and 17) can be seen further back and the Leicester Tower (21) is on the left. Although the building stone remained unchanged, the architecture did not. Clinton’s Tower originally had arrow slits but no windows; windows were weaknesses, and as glass was unavailable, they also opened the interior to the elements. John of Gaunt’s 14th century buildings had glass windows like the those seen in churches of that date and signify the start of the change from castle to palace. The Leicester Tower had glass from floor to ceiling on every storey, the cost was stupendous, but Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester was a man on a mission: to marry Elizabeth I. The queen, maybe, encouraged his ambition, though she never would marry him, nor anyone else. She visited in 1566 and again in 1568; between visits he completed the tower so she could stay in surroundings as luxurious as any palace in the world. That would win her, he thought.

Clinton’s stronghold acquired some windows over the centuries…

Outside Clinton's Tower

…and the medieval hard man would have been shocked by the view from the northern side.

Looking north from Clinton's Tower

The Italian Garden was part of Robert Dudley’s campaign for the queen’s hand.

There is a better view from an unremarkable and wall-less room up a small flight of steps.

The Italian Garden from the room where Edward II abdicated

Here, on the 20th of January 1327 the serially incompetent Edward II was told to abdicate in favour of his 14-year-old son Edward III, while Edward II’s wife, Isabella of France and her lover Roger Mortimer were appointed regents. He objected, but nobody listened.

Edward II was held here for a few months, then taken to Berkeley Castle in Gloucestershire where he was murdered. Three years later, Edward III overthrew his mother and Mortimer, as any stroppy teenager would. He had Mortimer executed, while Isabella (who was only 35) settled for a long and interesting retirement at Castle Rising in Norfolk (we visited in 2022).

From the Inner Court (15) we entered the kitchens (12) where modern stairs took us into a tower….

Looking down on the kitchen

…from where we could look into John of Gaunt’s Great Hall. The ground floor was for storage and servants, the hall itself was above that, but the floor has gone.

The Grand Hall was on this level but there is no floor

John of Gaunt was a younger son of Edward III (r 1327 – 1377) whose oldest son, Edward the Black Prince predeceased his father, so his son, thus became King Richard II on the death of his grandfather. Twenty-two years later John of Gaunt’s son usurped the throne and became Henry IV (r 1399-1413). His son became Henry V.

Henry V made a speculative claim on the throne of France and in reply the Dauphin sent him a chest of tennis balls, a way of saying, ‘run off and play, sonny.’ The chest was opened in this very hall. The insult led to Henry leading a major incursion into France and winning the Battle of Agincourt, though he never did become King of France. The tennis ball story features in Shakespeare’s Henry V and was taught as fact when I was young. It is now thought to be ‘fake news.’

The windows are worth looking at, the style intermediate between those eventually put in Clinton’s Tower and the windows of the Leicester Tower.

The Grand Hall windows

There is little to see in the Leicester tower but Hardwick Hall in Derbyshire, built so 30 years later shows what the Tudors could do with glass – and it’s not a ruin. We visited 2018.

We left the castle and checked into our B&B a short drive away

The Cross, New Street Kenilworth

Tradition dictates that choosing the restaurant is my job, and Lynne remains in the dark about our destination until we get there. The criteria for choosing I will keep to myself, but after a couple of years of tasting menus with so many courses we started to flag, I was looking for a restaurant offering an old fashioned three course meal. The Cross does that - and offers a six-course tasting menu for those younger and stronger than us.

Kenilworth is also only an hour’s drive from home, and there was a suitable B&B a conveniently short walk from the restaurant. That walk took us from the High Street, where there are several restaurants, into the less promising New Street.

Walking to The Cross

Andreas Antona opened Simpson’s in Edgbaston in 1993. Four years later it became Birmingham’s first Michelin starred restaurant. In 2013 he asked Simpson’s head chef Adam Bennett to become chef-director of The Cross, his new venture. A year or so later The Cross won a Michelin star and has maintained it ever since.

According to their website The Cross is housed in a Grade II listed 19th-century inn. It also says the main dining room is a former school room and the bar was previously a butcher's shop. Whether the inn came before the schoolroom/butcher’s or after is not vouchsafed.

Aperitif and Canapés

We did not bother with the bar, the evening was still warm so we enjoyed our drink and nibbles outside.

From the extensive gin list, we chose Kenilworth Heritage gin, because it is local and we had seen it on sale (for a hefty price) in the castle gift shop. Despite it being a) artisan and b) expensive, neither of us liked it very much.

What an enormous G & T!

The canapés were a treat for the eyes…

Canapés, The Cross, Kenilworth

…but good looks are not everything.

Despite its tiny nasturtium leaf, a mini-croque monsieur is just a cheese and ham toastie. Although nicely made and beautifully presented the ingredients were uninspiring.

The beetroot in the spoon is an example of the chef-y technique of spherification. The idea is that the largish bubble of liquid beetroot should burst in the mouth with satisfying consequences. Lynne liked it, I liked the idea but would have preferred almost any other fruit of vegetable. Lynne was also delighted by the tiny contrivance on top, a herb with something to crunch. She thought it was bursting with flavour, I was unconvinced.

The filo basket of tiny chopped potato topped by goat curd was a pleasing little mouthful.

Lynne’s Starter

Broth of Devon White Chicken, roast winglet, new seasons onions, broad beans, tarragon.

A large soup bowl arrived, empty but for a small hill if vegetables covering the winglets (what part of a chicken is that?). The broth came in a separate jug and the waiter poured it round and eventually over the vegetables.

Broth of Devon white chicken, The Cross, Kenilworth

More than a touch of theatre is required to turn soup of the day (chicken and vegetable) into a Michelin starred dish, but it helps. The deep, rich intensity of the broth did the rest, and the tarragon worked its usual magic with the chicken.

My Starter

Tartar of Beef, soy pickled mushrooms, radish salad, yeast crumb and mushroom ketchup.

Inside every man hides a blood smeared hunter. Such an atavistic monster even lurks behind my kindly elderly gent façade so I need to be thrown a slab of raw meat every now and then.

In this case though, the raw meat was not a slab, and instead of being thrown it was elegantly presented, hiding beneath a radish salad. There was little added to the finely chopped fillet steak, a little seasoning and something, I know not what, that bound it nicely together.

Beef tartar, The Cross, Kenilworth

In his ‘French Odyssey’ Rick Stein wrote I noticed in France that steak tartare has become fashionable once more, so I hope it catches on again here in Britain. I suppose the idea of raw meat is a bit hard to take for some people, but it’s always struck me as completely lovely. Hear, hear. I loved the steak, I loved the tiny pickled mushrooms and the blobs of mushroom ketchup, I even loved the radish - and the yeast crumb provided a different crunch to make the dish complete.

Bread

Around this point in all restaurants of this ilk, some bread appears, baked on-site or by a local artisan baker, accompanied by a special butter. I am not sure why I am expected to want bread and butter at this stage of a meal. I had a piece to see if it was good, and it was truly excellent, but I could eat no more.

Bread and butter, The Cross, Kenilworth

Wine

Beef tartar demanded red, so I ordered a glass of Rioja. The rest of our meal wanted white and choosing a bottle from the long (and sometimes expensive) list required thoughtful browsing. Among the often-underrated wines of Portugal I spotted a Bucelas. When Portugal was too poor to care much about quality wines, Bucelas, near Lisbon was one the few designated quality areas. It was popular in Victorian England but more recently, many of its vineyards disappeared under Lisbon’s urban sprawl. Lower production makes it hard to find, even in Portugal, but it remains good and I was delighted to see a bottle at an affordable price.

Main Course

Cornish John Dory, baby gem lettuce, peas, girolle mushrooms and bacon, parsley, new potatoes, chicken jus with lemon thyme.

We both chose the John Dory which, like every dish at The Cross was beautifully presented.

John Dory, and more. The Cross, Kenilworth

John Dory is coastal fish that can be found around every continent except the Americas and Antarctica. It is not landed in any great quantity being a by-catch of other fisheries. Many of those that are caught find their way to the upper end of the restaurant business. Its flesh is very white, surprisingly flaky for a small fish and very tasty.

It was surrounded by the sort of peas that remind you how much better fresh peas are than frozen, bacon that was crisped and almost sweet, and girolles with a remarkably powerful flavour that pleased me but not Lynne. All was moistened by a chicken jus and everything came together better than I had thought possible. It was a delightful dish, but the John Dory, announced as the star, just became part of an ensemble. Does that matter? Probably not.

Lynne’s Dessert

Hazelnut soufflé, praline sauce, Chantilly cream,

Who does not like a good soufflé? The praline sauce was poured into a hole dug into the top and the Chantilly cream came in a separate bowl - which Lynne perversely ignored.

Hazelnut soufflé and praline sauce

Impressed by the nuttiness, Lynne was more than happy with her soufflé. I ate the world’s finest souffle at Hambleton Hall in 2021, so I feel there is no point me trying another - what if I was proved wrong? I must look after my ego. Fortunately, after only two courses and a very little bread I felt strong enough to tackle the cheeseboard

Cheese

As has now become almost universal, all the cheeses were English artisan products. From left to right they are: Tunworth, Double Barrel Poacher, Ashcombe, Brightwell Ash and Shropshire Blue.

Cheeseboard

I am familiar with Tunworth, a Hampshire version of Camembert. It is excellent when eaten ripe, and this example was fully ripe with well-developed flavours of mushrooms and cowshed.

I am also familiar with Lincolnshire Poacher made by Simon Jones at his dairy farm in the Lincolnshire Wolds. His recipe owes something to both Farmhouse Cheddar and Comté.  The regular Poacher is matured for 14 to 16 months, the Double Barrel gets 2 to 3 years. Powerful stuff.

Kindly elderly gent eats cheese

Ashcombe is a Cotswold version of Morbier, with is distinctive band of ash. This excited me less.

As did the Brightwell Ash. Made in Berkshire, it is a soft, ash coated goat’s cheese. I have a prejudice against cheese that is spreadable, and I would have liked a goatier flavour.

Despite its name, Shropshire Blue is made by several producers in Nottinghamshire. Some of those producers also make Stilton, which I wish this was.

All cheeseboards are a compromise, so a partial success is as good as it gets, but I was a little disappointed by this selection – a kindly elderly gent can become a grumpy old git and be difficult to please, sorry.

Petits Fours etc

That leaves just coffee and petits fours…

Petits Fours

…and a recognition of the occasion.

Thank you to the Cross

And Finally

We enjoyed our evening, indeed our whole day. The meal was excellent, the flavours, the combinations and the presentation were all well thought through and executed. There were no meaningful low points, but neither were there moments that took the breath away, no horseradish ice-cream, no scallop, wasabi and apple granita. We would have liked such a moment, but maybe that is being greedy.

'Fine Dining' posts

Abergavenny and the Walnut Tree (2010)
Ludlow and La Bécasse (2011) (restaurant closed, post withdrawn)
Ilkley and The Box Tree(2012)
Pateley Bridge and the Yorke Arms (2013) (No longer a restaurant, post renamed Parceval Gardens and Pateley Br)
The Harrow at Little Bedwyn (2014)
The Slaughters and the Lords of the Manor (2015)
Loam, Fine Dining in Galway (2016)
Penarth and Restaurant James Sommerin (2017) (restaurant closed, post withdrawn. JS has a new restaurant in Penarth)
The Checkers, Montgomery (2017) (no longer a restaurant, post withdrawn. Now re-opened under new management)
Tyddyn Llan, Llandrillo, Denbighshire (2018)
Fischer's at Baslow Hall, Derbyshire (2019)
Hambleton Hall, Rutland (2021)
The Olive Tree, Queensberry Hotel, Bath (2022)
Dinner at Pensons near Tenbury Wells (2023) (restaurant closed Dec 2023, post withdrawn)
The Cross, Kenilworth (& Kenilworth Castle) 2024