Friday, 26 July 2019

Fischers at Baslow Hall

A Wedding Anniversary Celebrated with a Fine Dinner in a Michelin Starred Restaurant

Baslow Hall


Derbyshire
The 15min drive from Haddon to Baslow took us past Chatsworth House.

Baslow Hall, a little north of the village, looks at first sight a typical 17th century country squire’s residence. It was, though, built in 1907 by the family of Jeremiah Stockdale, vicar of Baslow.

Baslow Hall, Baslow

In 1913 the hall was bought by electrical engineer and inventor Sebastian Ziani de Ferranti who had founded S.Z. de Ferranti (later Ferranti International plc) in 1885. From 1919 Baslow Hall had its own generator and more electrical gadgets than any other house of its time, even an electric laundry.

After Ferranti’s death in 1930, the Hall changed ownership several times before being bought by Max and Susan Fischer in 1988. After refurbishment Fischer’s Baslow Hall opened as a fine-dining restaurant with rooms in October 1989. It won a Michelin Star in 1994 and has maintained it ever since. [At least for the next few months. The star was lost when the 2020 edition of the guide was published in autumn 2019]

Baslow Hall

Max Fischer

Max Fischer was born in Lüneburg, left school at 16 and became apprenticed to a local chef. He worked in Germany and then in two Michelin starred establishments, the Restaurant Nicholas in Paris and the Bell Inn at Aston Clinton where, in 1975, he met his wife Susan. Spells in Sweden and Germany followed, before he and Susan took over a small café in Bakewell in 1980 and thence to Baslow Hall in 1989.

Kitchen Garden, Baslow Hall

Max now styles himself ‘Executive Chef’. The Head Chef is Barnsley born James Payne. After some years with Gordon Ramsey at Claridge’s he came to Baslow Hall as a Chef de Partie in 2010, working his way up through the ranks to become head chef this year.

Dinner at Fischer's, Baslow Hall

Apéritifs and Canapés

At the appointed hour we made our way to the lounge. The drinks menu listed seven gins, headed by old favourite Tanqueray, but willing to try something new we looked further down. Each gin was described in a word, or for Tanqueray two - ‘traditional London’, other words included ‘cucumber’ and ‘citrus’. Call us old-fashioned but we wanted a gin not a smoothie. Dingle, however, distilled in that fine Irish town (we visited in 2016), was described as ‘juniper’ – perfect. And very good it was too.

The canapés were pretty. On the left a shell of filo pastry with raw beef and a blob of black garlic on caramelised onion. The elements were top quality, the combination brilliant. Pork rind lounged in the centre laced with something not quite as simple as mayonnaise. It was fine, but however you dress up a pork scratching, it is still a pork scratching. On the right was a crisp mini-pizza with tomato and cheese. The world is full of rubbish pizzas; this is what they should be like (if a tad bigger for a main course.)

Canapés, Fischer's, Baslow Hall

Decor, Amuse-Bouches and Starters

We moved through to the dining room. Professional restaurant critics, of whom I am not one, often bang on about décor; some devote more space to interior design than cooking. Not me, I am here for the food not the curtains. Jay Rayner visited for the Guardian in 2015 and in the course of a faintly patronising review he called Baslow Hall, ‘a venerable country house hotel....where the outbreaks of floral and chintz made me mutter about being buried alive in Laura Ashley’s coffin. In here there is no design issue that cannot be solved by the liberal application of pelmets.’ I know only a little more about interior design than Donald Trump knows about cricket, but surely the design criteria for an urban space would be different from a country house – though according to Rayner the concept of a house in the country is so very 1980s. Perhaps it would have been more fashionable to gather them all up and move them inside the M25.

A tiny bowl of Wye Valley asparagus soup (presumably Herefordshire not Derbyshire's Wye Valley) was intensely flavoured with a swirl of tarragon oil adding an unexpected but delicious counterpoint. Food comes from the country, Jay, and it does not come any better than this.

A miraculous little bowl of asparagus soup, Fischer's, Baslow Hall

And then along came an excellent sourdough loaf with Abernethy butter and black garlic. All wonderful stuff but at this stage of the meal, what is it for? A question I have asked before.

Top class bread, but this is not quite when I want it, Fischer's Baslow Hall

Lynne’s first-course choice was hand dived scallops with tomato, lovage and Cornish gouda. She often orders scallops, knowing they will not match up to Claude Bosi’s at the Ludlow iteration of Hibiscus. Bosi had the confidence to do (almost) nothing to his scallops, and Lynne believes, even as she orders, that all other scallop dishes try too hard.

Scallops, Fischer's, Baslow Hall

These scallops were excellent, well-flavoured and accurately cooked, the lovage sauce a positive addition. The Cornish Gouda did little, though a stronger cheese/fish combination would have been unwelcome. The Dutch Spierings family enthusiastically produce traditional Gouda on their southeast Cornwall farm; a tad strange maybe, though I admire their enterprise and commitment. The unidentified ‘black things’ (looking misleadingly burnt) added crunch. Overall, she thought the dish impressive, but having eaten the platonic template of scallop dishes, nothing else completely satisfies.

My goose liver ballotine with peach, almond and camomile looked megalithic, sculpted cromlechs of peach forming a circle round a menhir of goose liver. The blobs of camomile had little flavour – fine, I don’t much like camomile – but with the almond flakes they provided contrasting textures. The ballotine in the middle was sumptuous, soft and elegant. The peach was a pleasant sweet/acid counterfoil, but the liver hardly needed it, I would joyfully have eaten a whole bowlful with a spoon (though I don’t think it would have done me much good).

Ballotine of goose liver, Fischer's, Baslow Hall
I know this is out of focus, but it's a bad photo or no photo - sorry

Main Courses, Rabbit and Beef

Lynne liked her main course, loin of rabbit with Scottish langoustine, crispy leg and sweet cicely but was mildly bemused by the langoustine. ‘It was lovely, but a bit like having two different dinners on the same plate.’ The crispy little leg croquette was a success, but overall, although the rabbit was perfectly cooked, it was not particularly rabbity.

Loin of rabbit, Fischers, Baslow Hall

I chose shorthorn beef with potato “tartiflette”, smoked short rib and garden leeks. The beef was first class. Cooked rare, as requested, it was tender without loosing its texture, and full of flavour. The short rib beneath had little smokiness but was soft, beguiling, slow cooked beef at its best. The sauce – or jus, or gravy – was deep, rich and satisfying. The vegetable accompaniment was just that, an accompaniment to the star performer. There was potato, there was leek and there was something delightfully caramelised. I had no more idea what tartiflette meant at the end than I had when I ordered, though I now know it involves bacon, cream and reblochon cheese. I do not recall any bacon or cheese, maybe the inverted commas suggested variations from the script but I don’t really care, everything came together in a substantial plateful of loveliness so what more could I want?

Short horn beef, Fischers, Baslow Hall

Lynne’s choices required white wine, mine red so we had a half bottle of Sancerre and similar of Gigondas. Both were good and of their type, but not outstanding, so given the usual hefty mark-up we were a little disappointed. The bottles were whisked away after pouring - the staff were attentive enough to ensure our glasses never ran dry, but why do this? I do not find pouring my own wine a burden, nor do I object to the sight of a bottle on a table; I like good service, but this felt oddly intrusive.

Pre-Desserts, Desserts and Cheese

A pre-dessert of elderflower ice-cream, fermented strawberries and sweet cicely (her, again) was three mouthfuls of deliciousness, though I wonder how (and why) anyone ferments a strawberry.

Pre-dessert, Fischer's Baslow Hall

Lynne’s desert was pretty and delicious. At his point, Jay Rayner, having had an unadventurous lunch, moans‘it’s as if the setting makes the offering of a crumble or something dense and steamed simply unconscionable’. Unlike Mr Rayner, I was paying for my own meal, and at these prices I expect something more complex than comfort food - not that there is anything wrong with an apple crumble, at the right time and place.

Dessert, Fischer's Baslow Hall

I went for cheese. The selection was impressive and all British, so I will restate my delight at the rebirth of British artisan cheese-making, and regret that such delights can only be found in specialist shops (and top-end restaurants.)

I have come across Tunworth, bottom left, from Hampshire before. Described as a ‘British camembert’ it was under-ripe at my first meeting and I was hoping to discover why it wins prizes, but this was over-ripe, and still short on flavour. [2022 Update: At my third attempt I bought a perfect Tunworth at Gloucester Services on the M5. It was worth it the wait.] Perl Wen (White Pearl), bottom right from Cenarth on the Carmarthen/Ceredigion/Pembroke border claims to be a ‘unique cross between Brie and Caerffili’. I hate to dis my native heath but I have never been a big fan of Caerphilly (Anglo spelling), and ditto, sadly, Perl Wen.

Cheese, Fischer's, Baslow Hall

Irritatingly the best cheeses are the three that must remain nameless (because I have forgotten). The blue and the goats’ cheese, so ripe it was dissolving into a puddle of its own unctuousness, were lovely, but the star was the unprepossessing fish shaped thing across the middle of the plate. At the perfection of ripeness, it was strong, elegant and as fine a cheese as I have ever been privileged to eat.

Coffee and Petit-Fours

And so coffee, petit fours and a cognac from the cheaper end of the list brought our wedding anniversary meal to an end. Jay Rayner was generally complimentary about the food, but after being chided by a (metropolitan?) reader that he is harsher on London restaurants he replies ‘I put more effort in trying to find good places outside London because what’s the point of a crap review of somewhere in, say, Derbyshire?...And sometimes even when you do find solid cooking, it comes with a side order of floral print.’

‘Solid cooking’? Damning with faint praise? He came for Sunday lunch, ate roast beef and wanted apple crumble, which speaks volumes about his expectations of ‘somewhere in Derbyshire.’ Whether Michelin stars are the be-all and end-all of good restaurants is another argument, but they do guarantee high quality cooking and a degree of inventiveness in the menu. There are about 140 starred restaurants in the UK, roughly half in London, leaving 70 in "places like Derbyshire" where the cooking, if you take the trouble to look, is better than ‘solid.’

I usually like Jay Rayner, there is more to him than just a metropolitan snob, but not in this review. We liked Fischer’s, we liked the cooking and we liked the ambience (though our bedroom was rather small). I would hope a 3-starred meal would be perfection, at 1-star I have always found something to quibble with, though rarely more than a quibble. For us, Fischer’s amply justified its place in the restaurant elite, whether judged by London or Derbyshire standards.


'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

Bakewell and Haddon Hall

A Victorian Town and a Medieval House

26/07/2019

Today is our wedding anniversary – 44 years believe or not. Tradition dictates I organise a day out ending with dinner at what is now called a ‘fine dining’ restaurant, usually one with a Michelin star. For Lynne the event is a mystery tour.

This year, Fischer’s in Baslow, Derbyshire – much closer to home than usual - was the chosen restaurant. The dinner is the subject of the next post, this one is about the day out.

Bakewell

Derbyshire

Our 38 mile journey to Bakewell took almost 1½hrs, but driving across the Peak District – coincidently both the most direct and most scenic route - is never going to be quick, and on a pleasant summer’s day, who cares?

Reaching Bakewell town centre from the car park involved crossing the bridge on the River Wye*. A Grade 1 listed building, it has stood here since 1270(ish). It now carries two lanes of 21st century traffic, so it must have been well made – and (I hope) considerably strengthened. The upstream side was rebuilt in the 19th century.

Bakewell Bridge over the River Wye - this is the downstream, i.e. the original side

Bakewell Pudding

Everybody knows that Bakewell is the home of the Bakewell tart. Only it isn't, it is the home of the Bakewell pudding.

The story of the pudding’s creation is well known, at least in Bakewell, but here it is anyway. It was discovered by serendipity in 1820 or 1860 when Mrs Greaves, the landlady of the White Horse Inn asked an inexperienced kitchen assistant to make a jam tart. The assistant spread an egg and almond paste mixture on top of the jam instead of mixing it into the pastry. In the oven it set like an egg custard and the result was so good it has been made that way ever since.

The story has some problems. The recipe had already reached London in 1836 when it was published in The Magazine of Domestic Economy, so not 1860. Worse, the White Horse Inn was demolished in 1802 and the Rutland Arms was built on the same site, so not 1820, either.

The Rutland Arms, Bakewell

The Old Original Bakewell Pudding Shop

Whenever it originated, it is indubitably here now, and three shops in Bakewell claim to be guardians of the original recipe. The first we passed was The Old Original Bakewell Pudding Shop. Once they sold candles, but Mrs Wilson, wife of the tallow chandler obtained the recipe and opened a café - good move, all Bakewell’s tallow chandlers have since folded. The shop is downstairs, the restaurant above, and we settled in a corner…

The Old Original Bakewell Pudding Shop

…and ordered a Bakewell pudding to share.

A Bakewell pudding for two, served with cream and custard(!)

I dipped my spoon into the not-quite egg custard. The jammy, almondy, marzipany flavour was toe-curlingly lovely. ‘It’s very sweet,’ Lynne observed. A couple of spoonfuls later I found myself agreeing, it was not just sweet, it was too sweet, even this wonderful flavour would soon start to cloy. Lynne could not finish her half, so I dutifully scooped up her custard but left the pastry. In conclusion: Bakewell pudding is lovely, but a little goes a long way.

I had entered the Old Original Bakewell Pudding Shop with a pudding-tasting plan, I left with the plan in tatters. We mentally cancelled lunch and accepted that after a meal tonight and a big breakfast we could not possibly manage another pudding at the Bakewell Pudding Factory Parlour tomorrow morning. In our youth, maybe… but that precious possession has somehow slipped between our fingers. Bloomers, the other claimants to the ‘original recipe’ is a bakery only, so we could still drop in there.

Two old dears on their 44th wedding anniversary. Sorry about the demonic grin, I was trying to smile

All Saints’ Church, Bakewell

Feeling more than full we dragged ourselves to Rutland Square and up the hill to All Saints’ Church.

All Saints', Bakewell

There has been a church on this site since 920, and that was predated by a couple of 9th century crosses now in the churchyard.

9th Century Cross outside All Saints', Bakewell

The building of the current church started in the 11th century, though little of that remains…

The Oldest part of All Saint's, Bakewell, with rounded Norman arches

…and most of it was constructed between 1120 and 1140. A spire (not the present one) was added in 1340 about the same time as the font was installed.

14th century font. All Saints', Bakewell

The spire was removed in 1825 as it was dangerous, and 15 years later a complete rebuilding was necessary. This was followed by an 1879-82 restoration by George Gilbert Scott Jnr (the middle generation of the Gilbert Scott dynasty of architects). The church as viewed today is largely Victorian…

The largely Victorian chancel, All Saints', Bakewell

…as is the town it overlooks…

Bakewell from All Saints' Churchyard

The Foljambe Memorial

…but it is the older monuments that catch the eye. The alabaster figures of Godfrey and Avena de Foljambe have been showing off their piety since 1376. Locally born, and buried here, Sir Godfrey was an associate of John of Gaunt and spent several years as Lord Chief Justice of Ireland.

Godfrey and Avena de Foljambe, All Saints', Bakewell. (The plaque below was added in 1803)

The Tombs of the Manners and Vernon Families

A collection of tombs, mainly of the Manners and Vernon families (of whom more later) is in an adjacent room. There is a remarkable early 17th century Manners family memorial, which includes an infant death…

Manners family memorial, All Saints', Bakewell

Sir Thomas Wendesley and the Wars of the Roses

…while nearby is the tomb of Sir Thomas Wendesley, who was killed at the Battle of Shrewsbury (1403). Maybe because the battle took place on the 21st of July, several floral tributes, in the form of Lancastrian red roses, lay beside the tomb. The notes attached were largely in Latin. One finished with the words Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori (it is sweet and fitting to die for one’s country) a line from Horace described by Wilfred Owen as ‘the old lie.’ I might also note that Wendesley died not for his country, but for a faction within his country. It depresses me that many Brexiteers imagine they are still fighting the Second World War. Here we open the possibility that there are people in England for whom the Wars of the Roses are unfinished business. Scary.

Sir Thomas Wendesley, All Saints', Bakewell

The Old House Museum, Bakewell

200m away and a little higher up the hill, is the Old House Museum. Built in the reign of Henry VIII as a tax collector’s cottage, it was expanded into a gentleman’s residence in Elizabethan times. Thereafter it had a varied life, in 1777 being leased to Richard Arkwright to be divided into workers cottages when he built a cotton mill in Bakewell. By 1935, in a state of disrepair and scheduled for demolition, the house was rescued by the Bakewell Historical Society and for the last 60 years has housed their collection of memorabilia.

Old House Museum, Bakewell

Outside the house is limestone, inside wattle and daub can still be seen in the kitchen.

One Tudor window has survived. Originally it would have been covered with gauze during the day to keep out the wind while letting in some light, and shuttered at night. It was glazed when glass became cheap enough for the moderately well off, not just the rich.

Tudor Window, Old House Museum, Bakewell

An indoor privy was a luxury in Tudor times, this house had one and it was rediscovered relatively recently hiding behind plasterwork.

Tudor indoor privy, Bakewell Old House Museum

The house was generally more interesting than the exhibits…

Agricultural tools and a butter churn, Bakewell Old House Museum

Ashford Black Marble

….but an inlaid ‘marble’ fireplace guard made in Bakewell by John Lomas and presented at the Great Exhibition of 1851 was impressive. The locally quarried ‘Ashford black marble’ is actually a carboniferous limestone rich in bitumen which is grey when quarried but becomes black when polished. The local area is rich in stone for the pietra dura inlaying technique (Blue John from Castleton, Fluorspar from Crich among others). Despite a revival in the 1990s the craft is currently dormant in Derbyshire.

Ashford marble pietra dura work, Old House Museum, Bakewell

Haddon Hall

Haddon Hall is a couple miles south of Bakewell. The hall has its origins in the 11th century, but most of the current building is late medieval or Tudor. It is the home of Lord Edward Manners, younger brother of the Duke of Rutland, but we peasants are allowed the run of much of the house and gardens – for a price.

Haddon Hall, near Bakewell
Also Prince Humperdinck's Castle in the Princess Bride(and much else)

According to the Domesday Book the manor of Haddon was held by William Peveril in 1087. It was forfeit to the crown in 1153 and then passed to the Avenell family. In 1170 Avice Avenell married Sir Richard de Vernon and the house remained in Vernon hands until 1565 when it passed by marriage to the present owners, the Manners family.

Peveril’s manor had been on a hill, but these were dangerous times so in 1194 Sir Richard de Vernon petitioned King John for the right to build a wall for extra security. He was permitted to build, but no higher than 12 feet and without crenellations so Haddon Hall never became a castle – and that probably accounts for its survival. That wall is still there, most of it incorporated into the structure, though a small section still clearly identifiable.

The 'King John' wall is on the left. As both walls were to be seen from outside (the right) the older wall is neatly faced with dressed limestone blocks, while the back of the newer wall is rough gritstone.

The Chapel

In the nearby chapel the older section predates the wall and the Vernons.

The old section of the Haddon Hall chapel

It was once the parish church of Nether Haddon but the village no longer exists, depopulated either by the hand of God (Black Death, 1348-9) according to information in the chapel itself or by the hand of Vernon (creation of a deer park, 1300) as Beresford’s Lost Villages suggests.

The wall paintings date from the time of the chapel’s extension in 1427, though they were covered in whitewash during the Reformation and re-discovered in the 20th century. Most noticeable is the large St Christopher facing the door (though the chapel is dedicated to St Nicholas).

St Christopher, Haddon Hall chapel

The Nottingham alabaster reredos is also early 15th century.

Nottingham alabaster reredos, Haddon Hall chapel

I also have to mention the memorial to a Lord Haddon who died in 1894, aged 9. It is mawkish Victoriana but takes up a lot of space in the nave.

The Kitchen and Banquetting Hall

But before the chapel, we had started in the kitchens – unchanged for 500 years -….

Kitchen, Haddon Hall

…moving through to the Banqueting Hall for an introductory talk. Built in 1370, his hall would have been the communal living space for the whole household. The 15th century French tapestry was a gift from Henry VIII.

Banqueting hall, Haddon Hall

The room was restored in the 1920s and the roof timbers replaced.

Banqueting hall roof, Haddon Hall

Tudor Haddon

The adjacent parlour was created by Henry Vernon in 1500 when family dining rooms replaced communal halls. It was panelled in 1545 and is claimed to be a ‘perfect Tudor room’…

Tudor Dining room, Haddon Hall
The table is a modern facsimile of the original, the chairs are hardly Tudor

…with a perfect Tudor nook.

Parlour nook, dining room, Haddon Hall

Henry married Anne Talbot and the strange beasts on the ceiling are heraldic representations of talbots, an extinct breed of dog resembling a basset hound.

Talbot, Haddon Hall dining room
As far as I can tell talbots had ordinary doggy paws. These lion-claws are for heraldic purposes only

The Gardens and the Elopement of Dorothy Vernon and John Manners

From the garden there is a good view of the house.

Haddon Hall and the lower garden from the upper garden

In 1563 Dorothy, daughter of Sir George Vernon,and John Manners, second son of the Earl of Rutland found themselves mutually attracted. The Vernons were Catholic, the Manners Protestant and Sir George was hoping for something better than the second son of an Earl, so he forbade their liaison. Slipping away from a crowded ball, Dorothy crept through the garden, descended the stone steps and crossed the footbridge over the River Wye to where John was waiting.

The stone steps from the garden and the footbridge over the River Wye, Haddon Hall

Their elopement spawned several novels, a play, an opera and a film, though it probably never happened, as the couple inherited Haddon Hall when Sir George died two years later.

We lingered in the garden long enough to encounter a co-operative peacock butterfly – if only more species habitually rested with their wings open photographing butterflies would be much easier.

(European) Peacock butterfly, Aglais Io,Haddon Hall garden

The Long Gallery

In the long gallery (every big house has to have a long gallery)…

The long gallery, Haddon Hall

…the peacock of the Manners family….

The peacock of the Manners family

…and boar of the Vernons are prominently displayed.

The boar of the Vernons (and a Tudor rose, because that was always wise)

Bringing the Story Up to Date

Luck then dictated that John and Dorothy’s grandson, also John, would became 8th Earl of Rutland, inheriting the title and Belvoir Castle from a distant cousin.

His son, another John was upgraded from 9th Earl to 1st Duke of Rutland in 1703 and moved to Belvoir Castle. He and his heirs used Haddon Hall very little, but maintained a skeleton staff so it remained almost unaltered from its 16th-century condition.

In the 1920s, the 9th Duke of Rutland, yet another John, realised the importance of Haddon Hall and began the house’s restoration and rehabilitation.

Before leaving we had a look round the artisan market. I am impressed by people who make things from little pieces of cloth, wood or metal resembling the off-cuts from larger projects, but I can never find a use for them. The four artisan gin stalls suggested a culling of weaker players in this overcrowded market is not far away. To differentiate their products they add a variety of fruit cordials, unwittingly inventing a high alcohol version of the alcopops that came and went some years ago. These will have their moment, and pass in the same way; real gin will go on.

From Haddon Hall we headed for Baslow and our dinner date.

27/07/2019

Return to Bakewell

Returning to Bakewell in the morning, we crossed and re-crossed the river in our search for the farmers’ market.

During the second crossing on a modern bridge we spotted what I now know to be a black headed gull in winter plumage. July is hardly winter (though it can be difficult to tell in the Peak District) but apparently their heads start to fade straight after the mating season and they are usually in full winter plumage by August.

Black headed gull in winter plummage (and several geese) River Wye, Bakewell

Bakewell Farmer's Market

The farmers’ market was not as big or as bustling as we had been led to believe. I am not sure a famers’ market should be indoors, and if it is, not in a room with a carpet!

Bakewell Farmers' Market

Spreading the market across an outdoor section and several indoor rooms spoils the atmosphere, but the mushroom stall was impressive…

Mushroom stall, Bakewell Framers' Market

…and we bought two ‘Granny Mary’ pâtés made by the Sutherland Family in Chesterfield. This is a new quality venture from the family who started Sutherland’s potted meats in 1927 (Granny Mary originally made the potted meat in her own kitchen). Sutherland’s long ago became part of the corporate world and the family are no longer involved, nor do they have the rights to their own name – hence the 'Granny Mary' brand.

Granny Mary's pates and parfaits

Bakewell: Puddings, Tarts and Cherry Bakewell

Having eaten as well and as much as anticipated yesterday we looked at the Bakewell Pudding Factory (actually a café) from outside…

Bakewell Pudding Factory, Bakewell

…but visited Bloomer’s Bakery. Unable to face another pudding, we bought a Bakewell tart instead. The tart is a 20th century development, perhaps more suitable to an age when few of us hone our appetites on hard physical labour.

Bloomer,s Bakery, Bakewell

[update: It was disappointing, mercifully much less sweet, but short on Bakewell flavour.

Bloomer's Bakewell Tart

The iced Bakewell is a development of the tart, and the Cherry Bakewell a further development. Mr Kipling claims his are exceedingly good, my picture is Tesco’s own brand. It is, of course, commercial not artisan, but it is not bad – too much fondant icing for my taste, and not enough jam – but real Bakewell flavour.

Tesco's Cherry Bakewell Tarts (other Cherry Bakewells are available)

Finally, a special mention of Bradwell's ice-cream who have been operating in the village of Bradwell, 8 miles north of Bakewell, since 1899. I enjoyed their cherry bakewell ice-cream in 2015 – could it have been the best ‘Bakewell’ of the lot.]

*There are three Rivers Wye in England and Wales. The best-known rises in mid-Wales then marks the English/Welsh border before emptying into the Severn Estuary. Another rises in the Chilterns and flows through High Wycombe on its way to the Thames. This Wye rises near Buxton and 15 miles later joins the River Derwent (that would be the Derbyshire Derwent as there are four of them) which then joins the (one and only) River Trent – though Trent Rivers can be found in New Zealand, Canada (x2) and the USA.