Showing posts with label UK-England. Show all posts
Showing posts with label UK-England. Show all posts

Saturday, 25 July 2026

Shrewsbury (1)

The Abbey, Unitarians and The Loopy Shrew

Why Shrewsbury?


Shropshire
Shrewsbury
For the last twenty years we have celebrated our wedding anniversary with an expensive dinner at a Michelin starred restaurant. This year, though, we changed the plan. Our anniversary fell on a Sunday and few such restaurants open on Sundays (or Mondays for that matter) and even fewer still offer a three-course dinner. We are getting older and 12-course tasting menu with 12 different wines – maybe I exaggerate slightly - are becoming hard work, miniscule though each individual course might be.

Instead, we decided to spend the weekend in Shrewsbury. The town is only 34 miles (55km) from home, but although we have rounded the by-pass many times, we knew little of what lies within, so we decided to find out.

Shrooze or Shrowz?

Shrewsbury is pronounced "SHROOZ-bree" or “SHROWZ-bree” apparently at the whim of the speaker. According to ChatGPT ‘Shrooz-bee is favoured by locals and much of Shropshire,’ but ‘Shrowz-bree is widely used elsewhere and is perfectly acceptable.’ They may be right.

The Basics

Shrewsbury has a population of almost 80,000. It is Shropshire’s County Town and was its largest town until the rapid development of Telford in the 1970s​.

Shropshire in England and Shrewsbury in Shropshire

It was founded by Saxons on a low hill almost completely surrounded by a meander of the River Severn. The town grew within this easily defended space – a rough circle of radius 400 to 500m – and by the 15th century had largely filled it.

The Centre of Shrewsbury (my thanks to the copyright holder)

There was little significant development beyond the river until the arrival of the railway in 1848. The town now spreads far and wide in all directions, but it is still the area within the meander that attracts visitors. Here the medieval street plan remains largely intact; timber framed buildings from the 15th and 16th centuries rub shoulders with grand Georgian town-houses, amid a sprinkling of Victorian classical exuberance, and modern geometrical design.

Old Market Square, Shrewsbury, empty at 8 o'clock on a Sunday morning
The stone Old Market Hall with the clock dates from 1595 (grade I listed), the timbered dwelling (Grade II listed) was built in the 1570s as a merchant's house, to its right is a 4-storey Georgian town house built some 200 years later

Over 660 listed buildings are crammed into this small space. There was never a plan, but somehow it works - though not for drivers. Once in possession of a parking space, it is best to forget the car and explore on foot.

Sat 25-Jul-2026

Shrewsbury Abbey

After extolling the delights of ‘inside’ I will start 'outside'; Shrewsbury Abbey is 200m the wrong side of the English Bridge.

It was founded in 1083 as a Benedictine monastery by Roger de Montgomery, Earl of Shrewsbury. Old Rog could never have imagined the Abbey Foregate Car Park, just across the road and the best spot for a photograph. I have excluded as many cars as possible.

Shrewsbury Abbey

The Abbey may now be best known for Brother Cadfael, who lived here and solved murders in the 12th century. Ellis Peters (real name Edith Pargeter) produced 20 meticulously researched Cadfael novels between 1977 and 1994. 13 were adapted for television in the 1990s starring the impeccable Derek Jacobi. I would believe he really was a medieval monk, but for his late 20th century sense of justice. The Abbey Foregate hardly looks medieval so the series was filmed in Hungary, but there is a Cadfael/Edith Pargeter stained glass window just inside the south door.

Jane Gray's Memorial window for Edith Pargeter, aka the Cadfael Window, Shrewsbury Abbey

Nearby are the effigies of Richard Onslow, Speaker of the House of Commons, and his wife Katherine. Richard died in 1571.

Richard and Katherine Onslow, Shrewsbury Abbey

On the north side is the shrine of St Winifred, (or Gwenffrewi),a 7th century Welsh virgin saint. The daughter of a nobleman in what is now Flintshire, she rejected her suitor, Caradog, deciding instead to become a nun. Displeased, he drew his sword and chopped her head off - a fine example of early medieval toxic masculinity. A healing spring appeared where her head fell.

Fortunately, St Beuno (who was, conveniently, Winifred’s great-uncle) came along, restored her to life and called down the wrath of God on Caradog causing the earth to open up and swallow him.

St Winifred became extremely popular in England in the 12th century, resulting in her relics being moved to Shrewsbury, and for a several centuries pilgrimages were made to see them. There is no undisputable earlier record of her, so she was, possibly, a 12th century fiction.

St Winifred's Shrine, Shrewsbury Abbey

The Dissolution of the Monasteries did not leave Shrewsbury Abbey a ruin as (like Bolton Priory in Yorkshire) it also served as a Parish Church, but it was not unscathed. The north and south transepts were demolished in 1540, the remains visible in the brickwork (half hidden by trees in my photo above). The eastern end of the Abbey - everything beyond the round Norman arch across the nave in the photo below - was also demolished.

The eastern end of Shrewsbury Abbey

In the 1880s, the eastern end was rebuilt on a much smaller scale to a design by John Loughborough Pearson who also designed the reredos.

Reredos, Shrewsbury Abbey

In the porch are plaques commemorating local people who died in two world wars. Most notable among them is the poet Wilfred Owen, whose name (Lieut. W.E.S. Owen M.C.) can be found by the poppy on the right-hand column. Born in nearby Oswestry, Owen later lived in Shrewsbury.

World War I Memorial, Shrewsbury Abbey

Outside, a memorial to Owen represents the pontoon bridge he was building across a canal when he was killed, aged 25, on the 4th of November 1918, one week before the armistice.

Wilfred Owen memorial, grounds of Shrewsbury Abbey

It seems an underwhelming memorial for the finest poet of World War One.

Getting Organised

After a light but leisurely lunch near the Abbey we decided to walk across the English Bridge and find our hotel on foot. Distances are small once inside the meander, and roads are smaller. Some were also closed for forthcoming celebrations, and we have learned from experience, particularly in Portugal, that the number and angles of roads at medieval intersection can overwhelm a sat nav trained on more orderly modern street patterns.

We found the hotel, discussed the location of their car park with reception, explored a little then returned to our car. It took us three goes to get in the correct lane in the convoluted approach to the English Bridge, one of these errors took us on a lengthy detour. Finding the car park was easy enough once we had found the right cobbled lane off the narrow street, but by the time the car was parked it was check-in time, after which, being elderly, we had a nap.

Shrewsbury Unitarian Church

During our brief recce we found the Unitarian Church. The Unitarians are not a well-known, nor a large group. Today there are some 170 Unitarian churches, chapels and fellowships in the UK.

Shrewsbury Unitarian Church
The Italianate Façade was added in 1839

Despite the date of 1662 at the top, The Italianate Façade was added in 1839. Behind is the site of the house of Richard Price and the chapel that was built behind that for security reasons.

Once Martin Luther set the ball rolling, people all over Catholic Europe started looking at church doctrine and deciding which parts to discard. The concept of the Trinity had always been problematic; Christianity is monotheistic so, some reasoned, if there is only one God, then it is God the Father. Jesus then becomes an important, maybe inspired teacher but not actually divine, and the Holy Ghost disappears in a puff of smoke. The virgin birth problem also disappears - it was always a stretch of the imagination, and a dubious translation, to boot. The idea of a Unitarian God first became popular in the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth and in Transylvania in the 16th century.

The English Civil War ended in 1649 with the execution of Charles I. Having rid themselves of a king who wanted to be an absolute ruler, England found itself governed by Crowell's Puritan zealots, which was worse. Oliver Cromwell died in 1658 and the monarchy was restored in 1660. With the intention of settling everything down, The Act of Uniformity was passed in 1662, from now on everybody would be Church of England and all services would use the revised prayer book.

It was not the first (nor last) act of parliament to achieve the opposite of its intention. Over 2000 C of E priests either resigned or were ejected, resulting in a growth in non-conformist churches. Presbyterians, Congregationalists, Baptists and Quakers, were tolerated or persecuted depending on whim. Two priests were ejected in Shrewsbury, the Rev Francis Tallents from St Mary’s (see next post) became a Presbyterian minister, preaching clandestinely in the house of a supporter.

Here is a nice picture of an old house in Shrewsbury - just to break up the big block of text

The Act of Toleration in 1689 belatedly corrected the situation. A small meeting house was cautiously built behind the house of timber merchant Richard Price, with Tallents as the minister.

During the 18th century many English Presbyterian congregations rejected the Trinity and became Unitarian, though how much they owe to the earliest Unitarians in Transylvania is unknown. Also unknown is the date when the Shrewsbury congregation became Unitarian.

In 1715 a Jacobite mob destroyed the chapel, but it was rebuilt almost immediately. The government paid compensation and George I later granted the congregation a Royal Charter, which is preserved inside the church.

Modern Unitarians reject the idea of doctrine, preferring members to decide their own beliefs. Whether they are Christian or post-Christian is a matter for respectful discussion.

I like religious buildings, this blog is full of churches, mosques, synagogues and temples - Hindu, Buddhist, Daoist and others. I like the architecture, the art and the history they embody, but I am not a member of any religion denomination. I do not feel I need a religion, but if I ever changed my mind, I would probably join the Unitarians.

Important Local Unitarians

Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Samuel Taylor Coleridge was appointed minister here in January 1798 at a salary of £120 a year. He resigned two weeks later when Thomas Wedgwood (son of Josiah Wedgwood, potter and entrepreneur) offered him financial support to devote himself to poetry.

Josiah Wedgwood
Josiah Wedgwood was a Unitarian and a member of the Lunar Society of Birmingham, a late 18th century club which brought together the leading scientists, inventors, industrialists and thinkers of the Midlands Enlightenment. Thomas Priestly, who first isolated oxygen, was another Unitarian member. Erasmus Darwin (we visited his house in Lichfield where the society sometimes met) was a physician and member of the C of E.

Charles Darwin
Erasmus Darwin’s son Robert married Josiah Wedgwood’s daughter Susannah and became a doctor in Shrewsbury. Six of their children survived infancy, and two of them married Wedgwoods, including their second son, Charles.

With a Unitarian mother and a C of E father, Charles Darwin attended the Shrewsbury Unitarian Church, but was educated at Shrewsbury School, which was (and is) C of E.

The Loopy Shrew

In the evening, we took a five-minute walk to the Loopy Shrew. We had booked a table there because they had an attractive small plate menu and I liked the name.

Despite the falling temperature, the seats round all the tables outside the Loopy Shrew were filled with drinkers, and plenty of people were standing around them drinks in hand as though waiting for a table to become free. We found the door guarded by a couple of heavies (well middle-weights, to be fair) – not something we are used to. Apparently deciding a couple of over 70s would cause no problems, they stepped aside. Inside the voices were loud and the music even louder. Beginning to wonder if this was a mistake, I accosted a member of staff, told him we had a booking and he led us through the crowd to the restaurant - a large backroom where the noise level was mercifully much lower. Perhaps all would be well.

I was toying with the idea of a cocktail when Lynne said ‘G&T’, so I had to have one as well – someone had to share the bottle of tonic or the gin would get drowned. A Tanqueray each and a shared tonic made a pleasant start to the evening.

Lynne and a G&T, Loopy Shrew

Lynne looked through the menu and decided she wanted the sea bass. I scanned the small plate menu but then spotted ‘Thai chicken and vegetable Penang curry’ among the ‘mains’. It was described as a ‘Thai red curry with coconut’ so I ordered it, despite my misgivings about the word ‘Penang.’

[Digression warning] We have visited Penang. It is one of my favourite places but it is a constituent state of Malaysia not Thailand. Eating in Penang is always a pleasure, the mixed Malay/Chinese/Indian population means that food from three of the world’s finest cuisines is produced by, and mainly for, those who understand it best. And then there are the delights of the fusion dishes, Penang laksa is almost worth the journey on its own. But curries in Penang are Indian, more exactly Tamil Nadu, in style, not Thai. [Digression over]

Back at the Loopy Shrew, Lynne was telling me how good her sea bass was,...

Sea Bass, Loopy Shrew

...while I was starting on a dish in which Thai red curry paste and chicken had been cooked in coconut milk. The milk had split into oil to fry the chicken, and coconut solids to add flavour to everything else. It is the same trick used by Malays and Indonesians to cook rendang and I find the resulting flavour combinations deeply satisfying.

Phanaeng Chicken curry, Loopy Shrew

[Update: After a little research I have found the curry has nothing to do with Penang, which is a typo. The menu should have read Panang (or more properly Phanaeng) referring to a red curry/coconut dish originating in central Thailand, which I had not previously encountered.]

The Loopy Shrew did a good job, though I have two quibbles i) lemongrass is an essential ingredient of red curry paste, and if there was any here, I could not taste it, and ii) the traditional garnish of makrut lime leaves, whose acidity provides an invigorating contrast to the heavy sauce, was missing. Fresh lime leaves are hard to find here, so this was unsurprising, but the rice cracker replacement was just a distraction. Most importantly, though, they did not back off with the chilli, as too many restaurants do. Anybody who orders a Thai red curry should know what they are ordering, and heat is part of the deal. So, for giving me heat and coconut, I will happily give them a solid 8/10.

We were both pleased with our main courses and felt we had space for a dessert. Lynne chose affogato, I picked Eton Mess Pannacotta, we both got what we expected, and very good they were too.

Pannacotta and Eton Mess, Loopy Shrew

The bill, the whole of it, food, gin and wine, was roughly the same as we paid for one 5-course tasting menu last year. As we had a 5-course tasting menu each and a different (and expensive) wine with each course, plus a few other things, last year’s wedding anniversary meal cost,… let’s just say considerably more than our evening in the Loopy Shrew.

At a Michelin starred restaurant you expect to find four or five ingredients you have never heard of before, two or three combinations you never imagined could go together, but do (smoked eel with horseradish ice-cream, and apple granita on scallops were two memorable successes). Two dishes should take your breath away with their excellence, and one will disappoint. But eating five or seven courses takes a long time, you need to concentrate on every mouthful, and we have reached an age were this becomes hard work.

The Loopy Shrew gave us four dishes, three of them familiar and the fourth, the Phanaeng curry, from a familiar genre. All were well cooked and presented and full of flavour. The restaurant is unlikely to win a Michelin star, but that does not mean you cannot eat an excellent, satisfying meal and enjoy a relaxing evening out.

As we left the volume of the music in the still crowded bar was louder than anything I have heard since my student days, now well over half a century ago. It reminded us that the Loopy Shrew is not aimed at our demographic, but somehow it did not seem to matter. I would recommend it.

Credits

Gnesener1900 - Shrewsbury Coat of Arms reproduced under CC BY-SA 3.0
Nilfanion Shropshire within England map. Adjusted for this blog reproduced under CC BY-SA 3.0
J Hewes, Map of Shrewsbury centre.

Images of Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Josiah Wedgwood and Charles Darwin are in the Public Domain

All text and other images 
© David and Lynne Williams

 David or Lynne Williams

Thursday, 4 September 2025

Barnard Castle

A Brief Stop for Lunch and Several Reasons to Return

Does Barnard Have a Castle?


County Durham
We set out to drive to Alnwick in Northumberland, but that takes 4 hours or more, so we needed a lunch stop. As the driver, Lynne decided to take the M6 as far as Tebay, eschew its excellent service station, turn right and track east cross-country to Barnard Castle. I had an eye operation two weeks ago and she thought we could have lunch, and I could check my eyesight while I was there; it was the obvious place to go.

Co Durham and its position within England (inset)
Barnard Castle is a town with some 5,000 inhabitants in the south west of the county

Arriving from the east we entered the town over the old bridge across the River Tees below the eponymous castle. The bridge was rebuilt in 1596 incorporating elements of a much older structure.

The castle is atmospheric if somewhat skeletal. Built at the end of the 11th century, it controlled the river crossing between the Bishop of Durham’s territory to the north and the feudal lordship known as the ‘Honour of Richmond’ to the south. It was updated in the12th and early 13th centuries by the Balliol family who (off and on) claimed the throne of Scotland (see The Battle of Stirling in the Stirling) post. The Earls of Warwick then held the castle until 1471 when it passed to the Duke of Gloucester, later Richard III, who held it until his death at the battle of Bosworth in 1485. In 1569, the ‘Rising of the North’, a Catholic insurrection against Elizabeth I, led to rebels besieging and then taking the castle after a damaging bombardment. The castle never recovered and was abandoned in the early 17th century.

Barnard Castle above the River Tees

We did not visit the castle – now in the care of English Heritage – as this was only a lunch stop. The borrowed photo, by Ben Gamble, is part of the Geograph project collection and is reproduced under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic licence.

Anything Else?

Other than the castle, Barnard Castle’s main attraction is the Bowes Museum. It is housed in a purpose-built château designed by Jules Pellechet in French Second Empire style. Building started in 1869 (the 2nd Empire collapsed in 1870) and the museum opened to the public in 1892. It was the vision of wealthy local landowner John Bowes and his Wife Joséphine, though unfortunately neither lived to see their museum open.

It has displays of art – paintings by Canaletto, El Greco and Goya among others – ceramics, silver, tapestries, sculpture and local history. There is also the Silver Swan – a life-sized 18th century automaton - that elegantly “catches fish” when activated. It is the only exhibit I remember from our visit in the 1970s. There was no visit this time, entry now costs £20 a head, too much for a lunchtime brief encounter.

Once round the castle we drove up The Bank – the lower part of what might elsewhere be called the High Street - and then went twice round the Market Cross. This was not strictly necessary, and the event produced a minor domestic dispute, finally settled by allotting the blame to me. Continuing through the High Street’s upper section, known Horse Market, we rounded the bend into Galgate. On our right was a large car park outside the local Morrisons, so we stopped there.

Barnard Castle Market Cross

Testing One's Eyesight

The first thing I did after leaving the car park was to test my eyesight, it is a long tradition in Barnard Castle dating all the way back to 2020.

Looking at things to test my eyesight, Barnard Castle

In April that year, during the first COVID lockdown, Dominic Cummings - Chief Adviser to PM Boris Johnson - travelled with his wife and child from London to Durham after she developed COVID symptoms. The rest of us were dutifully staying at home, as instructed, but an allowance was made for those seeking necessary childcare support. Few people imagined this allowance covered a five-hour drive.

Sometime later Cummings admitted to being seen in Barnard Castle (about 30 minutes from Durham - I have a Durham post, too). He had driven there, he said, to "test his eyesight" and ensure he was safe to make the long drive back to London after recovering from COVID symptoms.

Few people believed him. Apart from it being against lockdown regulation, would a sensible person take a 30-minute drive to see if their eyesight was fit for driving? Mine is marginal, so Lynne drove me here and after 20 minutes in Barnard Castle it still seemed marginal. Both Cummings and Johnson apparently believed in one rule for the people and another rule for them. Cummings resigned in November 2020, Johnson some 18 months later.

Lunch

Brie and Cranberry

We located a convenient café on Galgate and ordered toasties and a cup of tea. I enjoyed my brie and cranberry toastie and it set me wondering how a cheese from northern France first met a berry from the coastal United States and struck up a relationship. I asked the ever-semi-reliable ChatGPT and they told me that it is an English sandwich filling which first appeared in the early 2000s - they could cite no specific ‘first instance’ - and spread organically until it became widespread. The British market for French soft cheeses, they said, expanded markedly in the early 2000s, about the same time as cranberry sauce was first being imported from America where it had long been a traditional part of Thanksgiving and Christmas meals. There may be a grain of truth there, but cranberry sauce has been part of my Christmases since the 1970s and I have been eating brie and camembert since the 60s. Perhaps, when it comes to new foods, I grew up in a family of early adopters. I would note the combination requires an under-ripe brie, like most of those in British supermarkets. A fully ripe Brie de Meaux is a joy but would be overpowering in this context.

And a Side Order of Compassion

As we were finishing, an elderly man came in and sat at the table next to us. I am 75, I would hate to be called elderly (even if I am) but I have just used that word to describe somebody else. I doubt he was much older than me and he seemed in reasonable physical condition, but the blank look in his eye suggested he was not the man he once was. One of the young women who work in the café greeted him by name. “Hello Lenny,” she said, “D’you want a cup of tea?” He stared straight ahead but did not answer. She fetched some tea, put it in front of him and sat down opposite. “Do you want something to eat?” There was a long silence, but she waited patiently. “What's the soup?” “You wouldn't like it, Lenny. Would you like some apple tart?” He did not answer. “We’ve got custard, would you like some custard?” He nodded. She went away and returned bearing a bowl containing a large slice of apple tart wallowing in custard. He picked up his spoon and started eating with obvious relish.

We left at that point. I have no idea how much help he needs and gets, but he was reasonably well turned out.  Maybe he comes in every day, but the important point is that he was treated with sensitivity and compassion - a shining example of kindness in a world that sees too little of it.

Horse Market

Walking back round into Horse Market we saw a gentle curve of buildings running down to the Market Cross.  Most look Georgian though some are younger and a few older. Many have blue plaques explaining the various uses the premises have been put to over the centuries.

Horse Market, Barnard Castle

The good people of Barnard Castle have a Morrisons and a Lidl for their convenience but are blessed by also having the option of proper old-fashioned butchers and an artisan baker with a side-line in interesting cheeses. One of the several pubs offers ‘dog friendly karaoke’ (no, nor me) and there is an African/Caribbean coffee shop. I do not know when Nobia and Sons opened, but they have earned many friendly reviews over the last two and a half years. They sell the standard coffee and cakes but also offer Jollof rice, curry goat, jerk chicken and more. For a fleeting moment a second lunch seemed a good idea, then reality kicked in. Further down is a farmer’s market; it seems the only thing you cannot buy in the Horse Market is a horse.

Horse Market, the Market Cross and St Mary's Church

The octagonal market cross that we earlier circumnavigated was built in 1747 by wealthy wool merchant Thomas Breaks. The open ground floor was used by farmers selling butter, eggs and the like, while the upper storey has been variously used as a courtroom, gaol, fire station and town hall.

The principal modern use of the Grade 1 listed building, sometimes referred to by locals as ‘Breaks' Folly’ is as a traffic hazard. It reduces visibility for all drivers and is regularly clipped by HGVs making their way through the town (see the Teesdale Mercury. 2019).

St Mary's Parish Church, Barnard Castle

St Mary’s church dates from the early 12th century, the time Bernard de Balliol built the stone castle and gave his name to the town that would develop round it.

Like all old churches, there have been alterations and additions over the centuries, though most of what we can see is 14th century or earlier. The main exception is the tower that was rebuilt in 1873–74 as it was in danger of collapse.

The Parish Church of St Mary, Barnard Castle

Inside it has some odd features and at first sight appears to have been built backwards, but the pews do point in the usual direction.

Looking towards the west window, St Mary's Barnard Castle

There is a rather worn probably 14th century effigy of St Anthony and a boar. St Anthony, the patron saint of swineherds, is linked to the Augustinians, and an Augustinian friary was established in 1380 in Thorngate, just south of the castle and 250m from the church. No one knows what happened to the friary or whether it was ever fully established, but maybe the boar came to the church from there.

St Anthony and a Boar, St Mary's, Barnard Castle

The castle passed to the Duke of Gloucester, later Richard III, who also has the boar as his symbol. Under his patronage the church was enlarged, though the unusual flight of stairs up to the chancel was probably built later.

Steps up to the chancel, St Mary's Barnard Castle

In front of the steps is a stone arch with the sculpted head of Edward IV (Richard’s older brother) to the left….

Edward IV, St Mary's, Barnard Castle

…and Richard himself, as Duke of Gloucester, to the right. A hundred years later Shakespeare painted Richard III as a villain, but Shakespeare’s history plays never bothered too much with historical accuracy and Richard has been rehabilitated recently.

The Duke of Gloucester (later Richard III) St Mary's, Barnard Castle 

There is an enormous font from about the same time. A stool is provided for the priest to stand on while baptising children, but the diving board was removed in the 19th century. The letters and symbols carved round the edge have no known meaning.

Enormous font, St Mary's, Barnard Castle

Back to the Car and on to Alnwick

As we returned from the church it started to rain. At first the big, fat, lazy drops had space between them, but the further we walked the closer together the drops became and the harder and faster they fell. By the time we reached Morrisons, it was a torrential downpour, so we and a dozen others stood beneath their awning and waited. Rain that hard cannot last long, but as soon as it eased a new cloud cracked open and the intensity returned. After the third time this happened we ran for it.

Despite selecting ‘recommended route’ for the remainder of our journey to Alnwick, our SatNav chose the scenic route - at least as far as Newcastle and the A1. We crossed the bleak moorland of Teesdale and Weardale, which have their charms when you are pottering, but the narrow, meandering roads are frustrating when you have somewhere to go. One consolation of this diversion is that our route grazed the edge of the large village/small town of Stanhope. If other fans of Vera, the good-hearted but curmudgeonly detective who makes Morse look like a party animal, were wondering where she got her surname, they need wonder no more.

We reached Alnwick in the late afternoon, feeling that we should give Barnard Castle a proper visit one day soon.

Thank you for reading to the end. Your reward for doing so is the information that one 'fact' about St Mary's Church was invented by the author. But you knew that anyway.

Tuesday, 2 September 2025

Fifty Years Together (3): A Special Present

A Rare and Wonderful Bottle


Staffordshire
Wedding anniversaries are important to the couple involved, celebrations are often more private and involve less present giving than birthdays or Christmas. This rather special year however we received one spectacular present. It came from my sister Erica – seen here visiting Piglet in Ashdown Forest (aka the Hundred Aker Wood).

Erica visits piglet

I am a practising wine buff, and Erica goes to great lengths to find interesting wines for birthdays and Christmases, but for this anniversary she excelled herself. She gave us a bottle of Château Mouton-Baron-Philippe, from Pauillac in Bordeaux's Haut Médoc region. In 1855 the great and the good of the Bordeaux wine world examined their châteaux for consistency and quality and gave 60 of them the right to call themselves Cru Classé. Ch Mouton-Baronne-Philippe was among them, though then called Ch Mouton d’Armailhacq (and since 1989, Ch d’Armailhac). These 60 were the pinnacle of red wine making in the Haut Médoc, thus the pinnacle in Bordeaux - and thus in the whole world (according to the Bordelais). The people of Burgundy would have argued loudly in 1855 and today other regions (Tuscany, Napa Valley, Barossa Valley and more) might reasonably claim joint pinnacle status, but the 60 from 1855 - all still producing fine wine – remain at the tip of their pinnacle.

Chateau Mouton Baron Philippe

But this is not just a bottle from a top chateau, it was from the 1975 vintage. ‘75 was a good year in Bordeaux and was also the year we were married. We already had arrangements for our wedding anniversary, so decided to hold this over for our birthday celebrations, mine today, and Lynne’s at the weekend when we will be away. These celebrations also involve the number 75.

Vintage 1975

50-year-old claret is a beautiful thing and needs careful treatment. It would have thrown a heavy sediment, mostly adhering to the back of the bottle opposite the label, but it had been unavoidably disrupted by a 4-hour car journey from Sussex. Standard advice is to place the bottle in a vertical position some 72 hours before serving but because of the car journey I left it a couple of days longer. The wine was shoulder-high in the bottle, which is normal for its age.

Next came the challenge of extracting a fifty-year-old cork. I removed the capsule and inserted my corkscrew carefully into the extremely soft cork. With a smooth and very gentle pull I had the top half outside the bottle neck before it broke, which was a little better than I had expected. Had I owned a ‘butler’s friend’ the rest would be easy, but not being so blessed, I reinserted the corkscrew into the lower half of the cork. It would be frighteningly easy now to pull out the corkscrew leaving a hole and showering cork dust into the wine. Holding my breath, I pulled very gently and to my relief (and surprise) the lower half came out intact. All I had to do now was to decant the wine off the sediment, a largely successful operation.

The decanted wine

Then give it a gentle swirl…

Give it a gentle swirl

…and a sniff…

A thoughtful sniff

And drink it accompanied by a duck leg.

And what does a fifty-year-old claret taste like?

According to the textbooks, the tannins and fruit flavours should have faded and been replaced by a subtle, savoury complexity. Our bottle though retained noticeable tannin; 1975 was a year of particularly tannic wines in Bordeaux, so that seemed appropriate.

The following was culled from the notes I found on-line for this particular wine and vintage, and reasonably represent what we saw, sniffed and drank.

Colour: Tawny with a wide rim; heavy sediment

Nose: Little fruit but notes of cedar, leather, tobacco leaf, dried currant, graphite, forest floor, mushroom/truffle, maybe even soy sauce and a whiff of cigar box (classic Pauillac). Wine-writers play word association games, but it feels largely right, though I doubt I have ever handled a cigar box, never mind sniffed one.

Palate: Fruit almost gone, but faint dried blackcurrant or prune. The alcohol is well integrated; the wine has become lighter with age and the acidity more pronounced. The finish is long with savoury notes.

We have had the good fortune to taste a few such Cru Classé wines over the years, but never one of this age. It was an experience I enjoyed from start to finish – even the perilous cork extraction. We are both very grateful to Erica for giving us such a fine finish to our extended Golden Wedding celebrations and a memorable start to our birthday revels.

See Also

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 in-house, 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)

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