Saturday, 26 July 2025

Fifty Year Together (2): Celebrating at The Angel at Hetton

Continued from Part 1....

The Restaurant, the Angel at Hetton


North Yorkshire
The Angel Inn at Hetton first opened its doors to the public in the 15th century and has been serving food and drink ever since. Its latest incarnation started in September 2018 with the arrival of chef-patron Michael Wignall, his wife Johanna and their team. Wignall had previously been executive head chef at Gidley Hall in Devon.

He has ambitious plans for the Angel, the big first step, winning a Michelin star, being achieved in October 2019. He describes his style as casual and contemporary and his food as being modern, technical and meaningful which he explains as every element brings flavour or texture, enticing diners to experience new combinations and ingredients. (Phrases in italics come from angelhetton,co,uk.)

I am bemused by the repeated use of the word ‘casual’ on the website. There is nothing casual about the way Michael Wigmore designs, cooks and presents each dish. Lynne and I do not eat casually, we take small flavour-packed mouthfuls and taste, discuss and savour. There is nothing casual about the large, well-trained waiting staff who glide purposefully between the tables. But, when we need to talk to them, the conversation is informal. No one wants or expects obsequious Victorian servants, or supercilious butlers. Perhaps the word they wanted was informal rather than casual.

Our Dinner

The Angel offers a choice of five or seven course tasting menus. Twenty years ago we might have chosen seven, but even with tiny courses that is now too much, so we went for five.

The Angel menu

Numerate readers will observe that the 5-course menu has nine courses. The Wagyu and Cheese, options we eschewed, are the missing courses from the 7-course menu, allowing an upgrade, should the diner feel peckish. Bread is never considered a ‘course’ and Snacks are what more formal/less casual menus would call canapés, so not a course either.

Snacks

Baron Bigod is a Brie-like cheese made on the Suffolk/Norfolk boundary. I know no finer cheese and I have written about it in both Suffolk and Norfolk. A bonus point for top quality ingredients but sadly turning Baron Bigod into a mousse dimmed its unique subtleties. The tuile was clever, but the Alsace bacon perched on it rather overwhelmed the mousse.

Baron Bigod mousse and tuiles

Parfait. A chicken liver parfait in a boat of puffed rice, was as soft and lovely as a parfait gets.

Chicken Liver Parfait

Chawanmushi. The first of several Japanese touches. Lynne and I have been privileged to eat our way over the last two decades from Malacca up through every country in mainland East Asia to Beijing in the North. Sadly, we have never visited Japan, and as Japanese flavours are becoming ever more popular, I am playing catch-up. Chawanmushi is a custard made from dashi, sake and eggs. This was a lovely little pot of a totally new flavours. I really enjoyed it.

Chawanmushi

The snacks accompanied our pre-dinner G&T where we were introduced to the Hooting Owl Distillery in York. Among their many products are four gins named for the four corners of the county. I had West Yorkshire, with all the cumin and turmeric of a Bradford curry, Lynne had South Yorkshire, based on liquorice and enough mint and rosemary to grace a Barnsley chop. We live in an age when artisan gin distilleries hide round every corner and behind every bush. Even the finest distilleries must struggle for exposure amid a tsunami of mediocrity. Hooting Owl should surf that tsunami; gin does not get any better than this.

Tomato

Textures of tomato, the subheading says, and here are tomatoes, some normal, some with skin off, some semi dried. Ricotta and basil are mentioned and clearly visible – they are welcome as old friends, of the tomato. XO, so as far as I know, is a Chinese sauce involving dried scallops and shrimps, Jinhua ham, garlic chilli and shallots. I did not recognise it here. There is seaweed, a Wigmore trademark, and I thought the waiter mentioned a white Japanese tomato with yuzu. I ate a tomato that seemed to be struggling awkwardly with citrus but I thought it was red.

Tomatoes, The Angel at Hetton

Lynne liked the elements, but could not see how they came together, I was just a little confused. What a shame we started with what we thought was by far the weakest course.

Wine. Etna Rosato, Pietradolce.
The sommelier was a bright and cheerful young woman, who took on the impossible task of finding a wine to compliment a dish of tomatoes with apparent enthusiasm. Michele Faro’s 11ha vineyard is on the side of Mt Etna 700+m up the mountain. He uses the local Nerello Mascalase grape and some of his vines have been producing for 120 years. His rosato is exceptional. Minerality and acidity come from the volcanic soil, while the vines generate a range of fruit flavours, with strawberry dominating. We could not find the redcurrant and cranberry mentioned by the sommelier, but we did find an orangey citrus note. I enjoy a good, dry rosé, and this was a very good dry rosé indeed.

Bread

Bread is never counted as a course but there comes a point in all such meals when somebody comes along and plonks down a basket of high-quality bread at a moment when you really have no use for it. Michael Wigmore , however, makes a laudable attempt to make sense of this interlude. Hokkaido milk bread is a light, fluffy bread in a shape suitable for tearing and sharing. With it came Ampersand butter, a traditionally made, batch churned cultured butter produced near Banbury, and a couple of dips. Colonnata lardo is a speciality of the Tuscan village of Colonnata. It is pork fatback cured for 6 months with layers of sea salt, garlic, rosemary, sage, pepper, and other local herbs/spices. Semi-liquid bacon is my best attempt at a description. The other dip was the rather more familiar taramasalata.

Bread, The Angel at Hetton

Not Wine. Poiré Granite, Eric Bordelet, Normandy
Our sommelier’s pick for this was not a wine but a sparkling poiré, or perry, in English. I rarely drink cider, and I had never previously tasted perry. Poiré Granit (referencing the local geology) is made by former sommelier Eric Bordelet in Normandy. It is made, we were told, in a way that more resembles champagne than cider. The retail cost is also reminiscent of (cheaper) champagne but unfortunately, the taste is not, and neither of us really liked it. Probably my first and last glass of perry.

Cod

This small, squat, white cylinder in the middle of its huge plate looked so lonely I felt sorry for it.

Cod, the Angel at Hetton

Then I unpacked it, removing the kombu, a variety of kelp very popular in Japan, and shifting the strips of cuttlefish to one side. Beneath it, balancing on the cod were two small, transparent circles of what I took to be potato, was this a homage to cod and chips?

I nibbled the kombu; it was all right. I nibbled the cuttlefish; the thin strips were remarkably tender. Lynne orders cuttlefish whenever it appears on a menu, but I am deterred by its resemblance to a bloated, yolkless boiled egg. The flavour is stronger than squid and it tastes more of the sea, but these strips were about texture not flavour.

Cod unpacked, The Angel at Hetton

The dark blobs were, presumably, smoked pike roe. There is no way of transferring the blob and its flavour to your mouth with a standard knife and fork. Michael Wigmore might aim for ‘casual’ but leaning forward and licking the plate would probably be a step too far.

The cod itself was remarkable. Surprisingly solid, but with flakes sliding across each other as if lubricated. The flavour was deep and intense; I never knew the humble cod could taste so sumptuous. I keep a list of platonic ideals, the food that has reached perfection. This makes the list, it is the cod that God would eat (if God a) exists, b) eats and c) likes cod.) Oddly I already have cod on my list, the product of a fish and chip shop in Reykjavik that was so fresh it was almost fluffy, so pristine it had to be eaten swiftly and in its entirety. There is room for both, apart from being cod, and being perfect, they have nothing in common.

Wine Rioja Blanco, Viñedos del Contino, Rioja Alavesa
I am old enough to remember when Rioja blanco spent years in oak barrels and the wines were stiff with oak. I rather liked them, but they went out of fashion and Rioja became all fruit flavours and crispness, often too thin and acid for me. Now a leading producer has put some oak back. The young sommelier was quick to note the oak was only to add structure and texture not oaky flavours, before admitting a hint of smoke and toast. I thought it struck a fine balance between oak and fruit, and was an inspired choice, few whites possess the structure to take on the dense flavoured cod.

Quail

Like the cod, the quail gave us a new view of an old favourite. In Portugal Lynne always buys and cooks quails, though our quail eating started long ago in France where they serve it guts and all. This quail breast was more tender, more moist and fuller flavoured than any I have met before. Onto the list it goes.

Quail

The carefully arranged accompaniments included:

Cotechino, an Italian sausage usually made of pork, but here made of quail. It was rich, savoury and subtly spiced.
Boudin Blanc, literally ‘white pudding.’ A ‘Full English’ breakfast usually includes black pudding, a sausage made from pigs’ blood, fat, cereal and spices. A ‘Full Irish’ can offer both local local black pudding and white pudding which is largely the same but without the blood. The French versions are similar but minus the cereal. They are softer, not a breakfast food, but more like paté. Michael Wigmore’s was very delicate in flavour.
Three tiny girolles that punched above their weight – I could have managed five!
Jerusalem artichoke ‘chip’ that supported my belief that there is little it can do that is not done better by a potato.

Wine. Pinot Noir, Winnica Turnau, Zachodniopomorske.
The sommelier seemed delighted to have sourced a Polish Pinot Noir. Winnica Turnau started planting in 2010 and today has 37ha making it Poland’s largest winery. Vivino display some comments, generally positive, though one remarks that it is overpriced. It apparently retails at around £30 a bottle. I am delighted to have tasted my first ever Polish wine, but sadly Lynne and I both felt it was borderline unpleasant. In retrospect we should have sent it back, but lacking experience of Polish wine, it had all gone before we were certain.

Peach

This was a very pretty dessert sitting in a delicate shortcrust pastry cup with baked white chocolate on the base and a peach sorbet on the top. I had to look up namelaka. It is a glossy, stabilized ganache made from white chocolate, milk, cream, and gelatine. So that is more white chocolate. balanced with fruit and flowers and a crumb beneath the sorbet. It is all very sweet and lovely.

Peach

Wine.“Kika” Chenin Blanc, Miles Mossop, Stellenbosch
Chenin Blanc is not generally considered a grape for the finest wines, either in South Africa or beside the Loire, but it is susceptible to ‘noble rot’ if left on the vine long enough. The grapes then shrivel, losing water but not sugar or flavour. Vinifying such intensely sweet grapes makes enough alcohol to kill off the yeast before it has consumed all the sugar, leaving sweet, or in this case, intensely sweet wine, balanced by the Chenin Blanc's high acidity. With a flowery aroma and a palate of honey and ginger, it is beguiling and even sweeter than the dessert it was paired with. Miles Mossop names his wine after family members, predictably his sweetest wine is named “Kika” after his youngest daughter.

Malt

The leading player in this act is the small brown truncated cone resembling a mini-Christmas pudding but tasting more like malt loaf – an almost forgotten memory. The menu also mentions dulce de leche; from Argentina (or Uruguay), it is a sweet, caramel-like spread made by slowly heating milk and sugar until it thickens and turns a rich golden-brown. I presume this forms the brown lines on the plate. Pearl barley also gets a mention, but where it was is a mystery. There was also salsify sticks, a vegetable I had not expected in a dessert, but they fitted well. I also noted a piece of pear, and a blob of something cool and dairy.

Malt

The menu also references Styrofoam, an inedible plastic used in packaging. I presume this is a reference to the pleasant crunchy stuff surrounding the main players and is a joke, of sorts. I may seem a little confused by parts of this dish, but we had been at the table for the best of three hours and drunk six glasses of wine (or perry) - not large glasses, but not small either. It was a pleasant end to the evening, not as sweet as the first dessert and not too demanding to eat (though describing it is another matter).

Wine. Anthemis, UWC Samos
The other way to make a sweet wine is to dump the must into alcohol of some sort, usually brandy, and so halt the fermentation before the yeast gets to the grape sugar. Anthemis is one such Vin de Liqueur. Made from Muscat Blanc à Petits Grains, it spends five years in oak barrels emerging a pleasing coppery orange. Intensely sweet, it retains the fresh aroma of the Muscat while the oak aging gives flavours of honey, smoke and toffee. It is possibly the only realistic answer to the question ‘what wine goes with Christmas pudding’? It also suits the malt loaf in this slightly less sweet dessert. It is a wonderful 'sticky' but, a little goes a long way.

The End (for tonight)

We finished the evening with coffee and sweet treats – petits fours to those less casual. We had enjoyed an excellent dinner, with great invention and with some real standouts. We had a good time, but it required a long period of concentration. Much work goes into producing such meals so we owe to the chef to take it seriously – and to us, to get our money’s worth!

Coffee and sweet treats

Breakfast

We awoke refreshed and got up in leisurely fashion. Last night the courses had been numerous, but the portions small enough not to interfere with our capacity to enjoy a good breakfast.

Breakfast presents Michelin starred restaurants with a problem. Diners go into the evening meal prepared to try novel combinations and new flavours but are rather more wary at breakfast. The solution is usually to go for top quality, but familiar ingredients simply cooked. This does not mean they cannot produce a dish worthy of my platonic list – I will remember the scrambled eggs at the Yorke Arms in nearby Ramsgill in 2013 for the rest of my life.

At the Angel the breakfast menu appeared to have another five courses, though the toast and preserves were presumably to be eaten together.

We started with yoghurt, made in-house and enhanced by a layer of fresh fruits and nuts, then we ate the trout, home cured and lightly smoked over hay and accompanied by crème freche and dill. The yoghurt woke the palate, and the trout (a breakfast first) was very delicately flavoured.

Yoghurt and trout

The toast is Shokupan, another Japanese milk bread, which went nicely with the ampersand butter and the preserves, made in-house like the bread and choux buns. Filled with tonka bean chantilly the buns were unbelievably light, while the filling was delicious,

Toast and choux buns

The meat was Nidderdale sausage, prize winning pork sausages made by Farmson and Co in Ripon. The bacon, also produced, was more of a slice from a bacon joint with a sweet-cured rind than the usual back bacon, but none the worse for that.

Sausage and Bacon

Last up was a soft-boiled free-range Cornish egg. I am not sure Cornish chickens per se produced better eggs than Yorkshire (or even Staffordshire) chickens, but this was a fine egg and with the yolk dripping across ampersand butter, truly memorable. I have no photo, but if you have read this far, you probably know what an egg looks like.

And that finished our wedding anniversary gastronomic adventure. We may have risen eager to take on breakfast, but when we stood up from the table, we knew we had sacrificed lunch. It was worth it.

'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)
The Angel at Hetton, North Yorkshire (2025, Golden Wedding Celebration)

Fifty Years Together (1) Chasing Memories Around Wharfedale

Back to Where it all Started

Heading North


North Yorkshire
Fifty years of marriage requires a celebration, but as we set out to do just that, only I knew where we were going. This has become the traditional format of our anniversary jaunts, though neither of us can remember how it started. Lynne took the wheel (eyesight problems make it unwise for me to drive) and I directed her north up the M6, and 80 miles later north-east onto the M65. From the end of the M65 at Colne (of ‘fond’ memory to some) we travelled cross-country to Skipton, Gateway to the Yorkshire Dales.

The Traditional County of Yorkshire
Skipton and Kettlewell are marked, Hubberholme is just north of Kettlewell and Hetton is north of Skipton inside the National Park

Below is how we looked 50 years ago today. What we look like now will be revealed (more than once), as this post wears on.

Wedding Day, 26th of July 1975

Skipton

We paused in Skipton for coffee and then took a short walk through the busy Saturday market to the gates of the castle and posed for the day’s first photo opportunity.

Outside Skipton Castle (hardly changed, have we)

Over the gate is the word 'Desormais' (Henceforth) the slightly two-edged motto of the Clifford family who owned the castle from 1310 until after the Civil War.

We did not enter the castle, but we did in 2020 and it features in a post called Skipton, Grassington and Kettlewell. We did, however, drop in to the adjacent parish church as we had never been there before.

Around 1300 a stone church was built on the site of a 12th-century wooden chapel. It has undergone many alterations since, sometimes because of damage (in 1645 from the Civil War and in 1925 from lightening) and sometimes because later generations thought they could do better, and sometimes they could.

The most eye-catching parts of the church are the rood screen, which bears the date 1553...

Tudor Rood screen, Skipton Parish Church

... and, looking through the screen, the reredos. Designed by Sir George Gilbert Scott in 1870, it is set off by stained-glass window of about the same vintage.

The reredos and the east window, Skipton Parish Church

Kettlewell

From Skipton we  entered the Yorkshire Dales National Park and found the B6160, the ‘main’ road that runs the length of Upper Wharfedale, …

Along the B6160 into Upper Wharfedale

… and followed it to Kettlewell. Fifty years ago we spent our honeymoon here, and apart from more and more dwellings being tarted up as second homes/holiday cottages it has changed little. Today the village has under 300 permanent residents.

Kettlewell had three pubs in 1975 and, remarkably, still has three pubs today. We stayed at one of them, the Blue Bell Inn, which has had its ups and downs over the years, but currently seems to be doing well.

Our honeymoon hotel
The paint is fresh, otherwise nothing has changed since 1975

Here is Lynne nursing a glass of Guinness Zero outside the Blue Bell as we waited for our lunch.

Lynne waiting for lunch outside the Blue Bell, Kettlewell

Despite many attempts over the years, I have yet to capture the charm of the village in a photograph. Here, though, is a photo from my 2020 post Aysgarth and Kettlewell showing the bridge over Kettlewell Beck at the top of the village. We played Pooh Sticks here in 1975, in 2020 and again today (and a few months ago played at the original Pooh Sticks Bridge in Ashdown Forest – we hope to go professional soon.)

Pooh sticks bridge over Kettlewell Beck in 2020

Hubberholme

Just as we did five years ago, we drove northwards up the dale through Starbotton to Buckden where we turned left towards Langstrothdale, following the tiniest of roads to the hamlet of Hubberholme, the smallest, pleasantest place in the world, according to novelist JB Priestly.

The compact Norman Church of Saint Michael and All Angels at Hubberholme was sturdily built to survive almost 1,000 years of Yorkshire weather. We came here in 1975 on the first full day of our marriage on a visit suggested by my best man Chris Noble, sadly no longer with us. He sent us to find the carvings of Robert Thompson (1876 – 1955), known as the ‘Mouseman of Kilburn.’ On returning in 2020 we found the church locked (the baleful curse of Covid) so we came again, on perhaps a more significant day.

The Church of St Michael and All Angels, Hubberholme, photo taken in 2020

Early in his furniture making career Thompson started signing his work by carving mice into it, and the rodents can be found on the oak pews and the choir stalls at Hubberholme.

I wandered round, searching for mice and found nothing. Lynne left the back of the church, where she had been reading about JB Priestley, whose ashes are in the churchyard, and joined me in the search. For a while she was equally unsuccessful, and then she spotted one, and then having seen one, she saw another, and another. She had found quite a few before I found my first, looking without seeing has always been among my special skills. We found lots eventually, but I doubt we them found all.

A Robert Thompson mouse, Hubberholme (they all look the same wherever they are!)

The company Robert Thompson founded: ‘Robert Thompson's Craftsman - the Mousemen of Kilburn’ is still going strong ‘creating the antiques of tomorrow’ from English oak – and ensuring they all carry at least one mouse.

The Angel at Hetton

Having gathered sufficient rodents, we headed back down the Dale, following the B6160 to Cracoe before turning west to Hetton. The village is on the edge of the national park and only 5 miles north of Skipton.

We drove straight past The Angel at our first attempt; its signage is so very discreet. Describing itself as a restaurant with rooms it relies very little, if at all, on passing trade, serving neither ordinary food, nor charging ordinary prices. This was the destination for on our special day, and I had booked months in advance.

The Angel at Hetton

Our room was over the road, in what were once the stables.

Our room in the stable

It was comfortable, large, light and airy if a little over-designed. The lighting looked eccentric, though it worked well when we figured out the switches, which were as discreetly signed as the Angel itself.

A mildly eccentric lighting system?

The bathroom sinks (one each) resembled hollowed-out ceramic tree trunks, while the bath was perfectly designed for a ‘brides in the bath murder’ - but 50 years too late for us. On the other hand, the shower was a shining light in a bathroom of over-designed oddities. It was spacious, the controls were easy to understand and operate, the temperature was easy to set and never varied, the maximum flow was pleasingly torrential, and I could run the sprinkler and the hand shower simultaneously. The best indoor shower ever. My best outdoor shower was at the Xandari Pearl, Marari Beach, Kerala.

At the appropriate time, showered and more formally dressed, we made our way back over the road for dinner. The review of our gastronomic adventure has a post all to itself.

Friday, 25 July 2025

East Sussex (6) Brighton and the Royal Pavilion

This is a new post, though it covers the events of the 25th of February 2025
It will be moved to its appropriate chronological position soon

The Brighton Royal Pavilion - the Extravagence of a Man with More Money than Sense?

Visits in Days Gone By


East Sussex
Brighton & Hove
During our stays with my sister Erica and her husband Peter in East Sussex, they have driven us all over the county in search of wondrous sights, but we have yet to properly visit the City of Brighton and Hove, home to some 280,000 people - over half the county’s population. Last year we went to Rottingdean (it is much nicer than it sounds!) politically within the city boundary, but in fact an outlying village. This seemed a good year to take on the urban centre, and its main attraction, the Brighton Royal Pavilion.

The County of East Sussex
Brighton and Hove are shown as dots, but in reality the City of Brighton and Hove occupies the whole south west corner of the county, encompassing Portslade, Patcham and Rottingdean

I had visited Brighton once before, in 1962. I was an 11-year-old Boy Scout, enjoying our troop’s annual summer camp at Small Dole, a village in the South Downs - the rolling hills north of Brighton, now a National Park. On one day our troop was transported into the city and let loose in groups of four or five with the strict instruction that each group must stick together. It was a little scary, but probably good for us to be left alone in a strange city with enough money in our pockets to buy lunch and fritter away the rest, as boys do, but not enough to do anything silly. We could not afford to visit the Royal Pavilion, but I doubt anyone cared, few if any of us had heard of it, we wanted to go to the pier and its amusement arcades.

Brighton Pier

I am sure we had a full day, but my memories are limited to eating sausages and baked beans for lunch and visiting the rifle range under the pier. Despite carefully aligning the rifle’s front sight with the bull’s eye, I not only missed the bull, but my five shots left no discernible mark anywhere on the target. Others were more successful, obviously there was something wrong with my rifle. I had another go, choosing a different weapon – and it happened again.

A couple of years later I discovered a rifle also has a rear sight which must be aligned with the front sight and target. It was blindingly obvious to the mature and intelligent 13-year-old I mistook myself for, but completely beyond the idiotic 11-year-old I had so recently been.

Getting to the Royal Pavilion

The obvious way to complete the 24-mile journey from Peter and Erica’s home in Heathfield is to drive, but then you must find a parking space. Even in February, it is easier to drive to Lewes, use the ample parking at Lewes station and take the train into Brighton.

The service is frequent, the train takes about 15 minutes and ours was on time as the sign pictured below suggests.

Lewes station

Once at Brighton it is a ten-minute walk to the Royal Pavilion....

From Brighton station to the Royal Pavilion

...but before we enter, here is a brief History of Brighton, which explains why the pavilion is there.

Brighton 1086-1823

Brighton features in the Domesday Book as Brighthelmstone. In 1086 it was a small fishing village dependent on fishing and farming, and so it remained for almost 700 years.

In the mid-1700s Dr Richard Russell, a Lewes based physician and medical writer started advocating sea water for bathing in and for drinking. It would, he believed, purify the blood, improve skin conditions and alleviate ‘glandular obstructions.’ His major work, a ‘Dissertation on the Use of Sea Water in the Diseases of the Gland’ (published in 1750) caused a stir. He moved his practice to Brighton and soon wealthy people were making the journey from London to ‘take the cure.’

Brighton’s rise as a fashionable seaside resort was boosted by a visit of the Prince of Wales (later the Prince Regent, later still King George IV) in 1783. In 1786 he leased a farmhouse here and transformed it into a neo-classical villa. After becoming Prince Regent for his debilitated father in 1811, he commissioned John Nash to redesign the building in an elaborate Indo-Saracenic style. Built 1815-23, it is the Royal Pavilion we see today.

Royal Pavilion, Brighton

Inside the Royal Pavilion

The first surprise was that it was so small, but then it is a pavilion, not a palace – and it is considerably bigger than my house.

The Pavilion is often described as ‘Indo-Saracenic,’ but the architect John Nash died in 1835, while the Indo-Saracenic blend of Western and Indian styles dates from the mid-19th. It remained popular with both the colonial rulers, and their local surrogates well into the 20th century.

The early 19th century was a period of fascination with the east, mainly among people, like the Prince Regent, who had never been there. Neither had John Nash but he was one of the foremost architects of his age, so with a little research he was quite capable of knocking up a fake Moghul Palace more than good enough to fool George.

For genuine Indo-Saracenic buildings see my 2016 posts Thiruvananthapuram (Formerly Trivandrum) for traditional Indian (in this case Keralan) architecture and Robert Chisholm’s Indo-Saracenic Napier Museum (1880) and Bangalore to Mysore for the Maharajah of Mysore’s enormous Henry Irwin designed palace (1912).

Entrance Hall

The interior design was mostly by Frederick Crace, and he filled the entrance hall with chinoiserie. Well, it is all Eastern so why not?

Chinoiserie in the Entrance Hall, Royal Pavilion, Brighton

In the 19th century, even royalty expected to be cold in winter, a fireplace could never warm their large high-ceilinged rooms, so they dressed accordingly. We do not, and the result is electric radiators compromising the design work.

There is something odd emerging from behind the clock, Brighton Royal Pavilion

The Banqueting Room

Beyond the Long Gallery we entered the Banqueting Room. The table settings are lavish; the walls are hung with red silk..

Banqueting Room, Brighton Royal Pavilion

…and covered in hand painted Chinese wallpaper.

Banqueting Room, Brighton Royal Pavilion

Above it all a colossal chandelier with a gilded dragon hangs below a domed ceiling.

Gilded dragon chandelier, Banqueting Room, Brighton Royal Pavilion

And if you cannot quite make out the dragon, take a closer look.

The Gilded Dragon

The Kitchen

Down a corridor that only the servants ever saw….

Servants corridor

…is a state-of-the-art Georgian kitchen with mechanical roasting spits,….

Kitchen, with mechanical roasting spits

… high ceilings for ventilation, and cleverly hidden skylights.

More of the kitchen

In here they produced 36 course dinners – and to think I struggle with a five-course tasting menu.

Menu for the visit of Grand Duke Nicholas of Russia 18/01/1817
Chef Antonin Carême

No one is expected to eat, or even taste, every course. The menu above starts with eight soups, but I have no idea how this sort of dining was managed. Perhaps diners opted for a particular soup in advance, or eight tureens were wheeled round on a big trolley and the choices were made as it passed, or maybe a footman stood at the end of the room and shout ‘Hands up for the curried chicken soup.’ None of these sound likely, and after the soup there are ‘eight Removes of fish’ and then ’40 Entrées around the fish’ and then and then and then….. Interesting to note, that although fascination with the east aligned more with a mythical than real east, very real chicken curry had already made its way west.

Music Room

With nine lotus-shaped chandeliers and the upper windows back-lit, the music room was designed to be seen at night.

Chandeliers and back-lit windows

It was a space for performance, Frederick Crace had thought about the acoustics as well as the light,…

A space for performance

… and for dancing.

A ball in the 1820s

The pillars were exotic…

This pillar is exotic

… sometimes bordering on ’strange…

And this one is weird

… and the walls were lined with chinoiserie. In its time the room was the height of elegance and opulence. But that was then, now they even let the peasants in.

The peasants, L to R:  Me, Lynne, Erica, Peter

Royal Bedrooms

Upstairs are the royal bedrooms, which are, perhaps, less idiosyncratic in design..

A royal bed

… and include some fine furniture. The inlays are, presumably, ivory, which we would frown at now, but this is of its time. Is it Chinese or Japanese?

I find this sort of inlaid furniture strangely pleasing

There is also this strange portrait of the prince.

A strange portrait of George IV

There is nothing obviously odd about this portrait, except that it is not a painting, it is a mosaic. Weighing close to half a tonne, it consists of half a million pieces of opaque coloured glass. As the sign underneath says it is a highly skilled example of the use of a glass mosaic to imitate paint. It is, indeed, but to what purpose?

Some Thoughts

We are nearly at the end of this tour, so it is time for a little reflection.

The Royal Pavilion is an extremely odd place. The Prince Regent, as he was then, asked for a building in Indian style on the outside, but he filled the inside with much chinoiserie, much else to suit the standard taste of aristocratic Europeans of the day, and some oddities like the palm tree pillar. The only hint of India inside is a reference to chicken Curry soup on a menu. George was a dilettante, a man who snatched at fashionable ideas, like, China, India and The East, but had little idea or interest in what they really meant. Could he really be as lightweight and spendthrift as Hugh Laurie’s portrayal of him in Blackadder?

Throwing vast sums of money at a building he never really understood, is evidence that he was. On the other hand, he was wise enough to employ the best people, like John Nash and Frederick Crace. He managed the project and got it done, and it was done with such panache it is hard not to admire it. He was extravagant, but much of the money was spent employing Brighton’s artisans and labourers.

The Royal Pavilion is beautiful, dire and quirky all at the same time. It might be a curate’s egg of a building, but it is a Fabergé Curate’s Egg.

The Royal Pavilion after George IV

George did not have long to enjoy his creation as he died in 1830, aged 68. He was succeeded by his brother, William IV, who also used the Pavilion, but with less enthusiasm, He died in 1837.

Queen Victoria found it cramped, and its location meant a lack of privacy. She commissioned the building of Osbourne House on the Isle of Wight as her seaside retreat. In 1850 she sold the Royal Pavilion to the town of Brighton.

The tour finishes in the Salon. In 1914 the Salon became a hospital for wounded Indian soldiers. 140,000 men of the British Indian Army were deployed on the Western Front. Relatively few of the many thousands of wounded were fortunate enough to be treated here. It may be an Indian building externally, but this was the only time the interior saw a major Indian presence.

The Salon as a military hospital in WW1

The building now belongs to the City of Brighton and Hove; it has been returned to its regency glory and is one of the most visited attractions on the south coast.

Our Visit Grinds to a Stop

We left the Pavilion, had a light lunch, photographed the pier (see the start of this post) and walked through some of Brighton's more interesting streets. Then we headed for the Museum.

Is this one of Brighton's more interesting streets?

It is sadly true that we are older than we used to be. It is an excellent museum with a varied collection of artefacts and an art gallery, but the history section was still greeting the arrival of the Romans when we admitted we had run out of steam. We walked wearily to the station and went back to Heathfield.

But to complete the post:

History of Brighton after George IV

Queen Victoria may have forsaken Brighton for the Isle of Wight, but Brighton’s growth continued unabated. The arrival of the railway in 1841 gave a direct link to London. Once the reserve of the upper classes, Brighton welcomed increasing numbers of ordinary Londoners while retaining its wealthy clientele. By 1900, with two piers and a variety of entertainment venues, Brighton catered for visitors of all classes.

Brighton continued evolving throughout the 20th century, though how it has remained a leading seaside resort since 1850 despite the handicap of a pebble beach is a mystery. Brighton was the destination of choice for the ‘dirty weekend’ and the place men resorted to when divorce laws required proof of adultery.  

More recently, while most south coast resorts have attracted ever more elderly residents, (Eastbourne is not the only one to be referred to as ‘God’s Waiting Room,’) Brighton has welcomed language students by the thousand, attracted the highest proportion of LGBT+ residents in the UK (2021 census) and developed a vibrant cultural hub. In 2010 the Brighton Pavilion Parliamentary Constituency elected the first (and until 2024, only) Green Party MP in the UK Parliament.

East Sussex

Part 1:Bodiam and Rye (2020)
Part 2:Bateman's, Firle Beacon and the Long Man of Wilmington (2021)
Part 3: Battle and Hastings (2021)
Part 4: Rottingdean and The Devil's Dyke (2024)
Part 5: Lewes and Charleston (2024) (coming soon)
Part 6: Brighton and the Royal Pavilion (2025)
Part 7: Winnie-The-Pooh and Standen (2025)