Thursday, 17 October 2024

The Alentejo: Eating and Drinking 2024

Good Food with Regional Character at Reasonable Prices


Portugal
Our first visit to the Alentejo in modern times (1980s camping trips don’t count) was to Évora in 2016. The resulting blogpost was overlong, so the pleasures of the local cuisine were hived off into a separate post called ‘Two Dinners in Évora’. Eight years, five more visits and quite a few dinners later that post has morphed into this annually updated companion to Eating the Algarve.

The Alentejo: Where and What is it?


Portugal's Modern districts
Alentejo Province
The Alentejo was one of Portugal’s traditional seven provinces and as the left-hand map suggest it was by some way the largest (and the most sparsely populated). In 1933 it was hacked in half, the northern Alto Alentejo with its capital at Évora and the southern Baixo Alentejo centred on Beja.

After the 1974 Carnation Revolution (the military coup from which Portugal emerged as a modern parliamentary democracy) the provinces were replaced by 18 districts (right-hand map). Beja district is the old Baixo Alentejo minus a coastal chunk (the Alentejo Litoral) which is now in Setubal District, the Alto Alentejo is split between the Districts of Évora and Portalegre. This post is based in meals eaten in Évora, Beja, Mértola, Castro Verde, Serpa and Santiago do Cacém – I have marked and ringed these as precisely as I can. The Alentejo may no longer officially exist (except to the Comissão Vitivinícola Regional about whom more later) but the concept of the Alentejo remains strong and the word is in everyday use.

A Confession

Before getting on with the food, a confession: I have spent far more time in the Algarve than the Alentejo and my knowledge of the Alentejo cuisine, having progressed through infancy, still lingers in the stroppy teenager stage. This post, then, is far from comprehensive – and may even, despite my best efforts, contain errors!

Meat

The Alentejo has only a small section of coastline and the districts of Portalegre, Évora and Beja are as far from the sea as Portugal can be, so meat is more important here than in the fish-eating Algarve. With that information, I will start with lamb and work my way up to pork, the most important meat in the region...

Lamb

Lamb in Portuguese is called Borrego or Cordeira. What the difference is, if any, remains a mystery. In Serpa, the Restaurante O Alentejano was recommended by the friendly staff at our hotel. We found their meat dishes a little heavy, but ate there twice, largely because we could not find anywhere else open on the Wednesday.

On the first evening I had leg of lamb, a dish with a single word Portuguese name, which was much lauded in Trip Advisor reviews. I cannot remember the name, nor can I now find the reviews, but I was disappointed. The lamb seemed to have been roasted, then cut up and dropped into a garlicky broth. The lamb was not the best, or had not been treated well, and the broth seemed underpowered.

Leg of Lamb, O Alentejano, Serpa 2023

On our second visit, Lynne had lamb cutlets. There was little to go wrong here, and the quantity of meat was enormous.

Lamb chops, O Alentejano, Serpa 2023 This was the quantity on the serving plate when Lynne paused for a second wind. 

Rabbit (Coelho)

Great Britain is an island hopping with rabbits, but despite this natural resource it is easier to find rabbit on a Michelin starred menu than in a supermarket. Lean and well-flavoured, it should be among the most popular and cheapest of meats, but it isn’t. Restaurant Migas in Mértola (photo: scroll down some way) has no pretentions, but in 2017 it offered Lynne a welcome opportunity to eat a well-cooked rabbit.

Wild Boar (Javila)

At the similarly unpretentious Tamuje, in the same small town, I enjoyed wild boar; the choicest morsels, simply cooked and moistened with the rich garlicky cooking broth and served with salad and potatoes.There was more chew than you get with a regular pig, and with a slightly different, slightly stronger flavour. I liked it very much.

Lynne's Porco Preto, my Javila (wild boar) and a bottle of Herdade dos Lagos, Tamuje, Mértola, 2017

Lynne, meanwhile, enjoyed porco preto cooked and served the same way, which introduces the most important beast in Alentejo cuisine...

Black Pork

The finest pork comes, indisputably, from the Iberian black pig (porco preto).

Iberian black sow, from the 2019 post Pigs, Ham and Tapas (Andalusia)

The pigs – believed to be a cross between domestic pigs introduced by the Phoenicians and wild boar - have been raised in central southern Spain and Portugal for millennia. They live a pampered life roaming in herds among the sparse oak forests feeding mainly on acorns.

Porco is Portuguese for ‘pig’, there is no word for ‘pork’, menus always refer to pig meat, Carne de Porco Preto. It is, of course, the pig that is black, or at least its trotters, not the meat which is normal pork colour.

The Spanish make a big fuss over the Jamón Iberico produced from these pigs, the finest of which fetches astronomical prices. We enjoyed three days in Andalusia in 2019 on an Iberian Ham extravaganza (three blogposts, for the first click here). The Portuguese produce ham, too, but this post concentrates more on the regular pork.

I first encountered Porco Preto in 2016 at Restaurant Malagueta in Évora and from the very first forkful I realised that there was something special on my plate.

Menu, Casa do Alentejo, Castro Verde, 2022

The precise cuts of Porco Preto are important in both Spain and Portugal, The menu tells me I had magro, abanico e cachaço (lean, fan and neck). I don’t know which was which but they were all excellent. Under Talho (Butcher) I could have chosen lagartos (lizards), secretos (secrets) presa (plunder) or plumas (feathers) wonderfully descriptive words even if I would not know one from another.

Migas is the usual accompaniment to porco preto, and is often named first, Migas de Espargos c/ Carne de Porco Preto as it says in the Casa Alentejo menu above. Migas is made from leftover bread (or sometimes potato) mashed and seasoned and mixed with garlic and olive oil and either tomato or asparagus. It is very heavy; the first time I ate migas and porco preto there were also chips on the plate and I dutifully scoffed the lot. I did not immediately realise how much I had overeaten, but 48-hours passed before I could face more food. This time I took a small portion from the slab on the serving plate – and was better for it.

Just a little migas with Carne de Porco Preto, Casa Alentejano, Castro Verde, 2022

Bochechas de Porco em Vinho Tinto

Pork cheeks stewed in red wine may not be unique to the Alentejo, but they are very much at home here.

I have seen recipes that use porco preto, but after it has marinated in red wine for several hours and then stewed in the same wine for several more, I suspect a special pork – or a high-quality wine – would have lost its finesse. This is hearty, rustic food; the wine-dark slabs of porky loveliness need only a salad, maybe a few chips and a jarra de vinho tinto to be totally satisfying.

Rabbit (Lynne) and Bochechas (me), Restaurant Migas, Mértola, 2017

In 2018, at the Beja Pousada (Pousadas are relatively upmarket hotels specialising in regional dishes) the attempted elevation of the dish by adding a poached pear, cinnamon-ed close to inedibility, just seemed odd. Bochechas are fine as they are, they are not supposed to be 'haute cuisine' they are comfort food.

This year, the Restaurant O Arco, set back from the road beside a petrol station on the edge of Santiago do Cacém did not look immediately attractive, but the hotel receptionist had tentatively suggested it as it was Sunday, a day many other restaurants close. They opened at seven and when we arrived at ten past we were not the first. By 7.30 the place was packed. From the decor, or rather lack of it, and the nature of the menu, we deduced they specialised in the food your granny used to cook - if you had a Portuguese granny. I think of comfort food as being immensely satisfying, but rather a guilty pleasure, but when it is someone else's comfort food, that little act of exploration cancels the guilt leaving only the pleasure.

Bochechas de Porco em Vinho Tinto, simply cooked, simply served. O Arco, Santiago do Cacém, 2024

Soft, unctuous pork cheeks, the fat mixing with the vinous, garlicky cooking liquor, leaving the diner no choice but savour it and smile.

Carne de Porco à Alentejano

As in the Algarve the link between meat and fish is provided by pork and clams, though the clams go unmentioned in the dish’s title. In the Algarve pork and clams are cooked in a cataplana, in the Alentejo the pork and potatoes are pan fried and then join the clams in a rich brown, garlicky sauce.

Carne de Porco à Alentejano, Casa Aletejano, 2022, Castro Verde

The dish is occasionally available in the Algarve, the finest I have ever eaten was at Dois Irmão in Faro. Lynne was disappointed with her Carne de Porco à Alentejano at the Casa Alentejano in Castro Verde, there were only seven clams, and four of those seemed to be cockles, a related but different animal. I did better in 2023 at the O Alentejano (there is a theme merging with these names!) in Serpa. I had 12 clams, and they were all clams.

Fish and Seafood

For centuries - or millennia, the districts of Beja, Évora and Portalegre were too far from the sea for fresh fish to be transported. There are no natural lakes and most rivers only run for a few months a year, so there was no tradition of fish eating - except for....

...Bacalhau.

'Bacalhau' is Portuguese for cod, but when used on its own means 'salt cod', fresh cod is always bacalhau fresco. Portuguese fisherman were catching cod on the Grand Banks off Newfoundland as early as the 1500s. To get the fish home in edible condition it was landed and salted in Newfoundland, Nova Scotia or, later, Iceland.

Salt cod, cheap, easy to transport and with an almost infinite shelf-life, soon became the Portuguese peasantry's main source of protein Soaking is the first step to making it palatable, and resourceful and imaginative people developed a range of recipes - there are said to be 365 - so they could eat bacalhau everyday but still enjoy variety. In time the wealthier classes realised they were missing something, and bacalhau gradually became the national dish of all Portuguese people.

Salting cod is no longer necessary, but the Portuguese love affair with it continues. Every corner shop and supermarket has rustling sheets of salt cod - loose, not pre-packed - for shoppers to sort through and select what they want. We no longer have to cure ham to preserve pork, or make cheese to preserve milk, but we still do because we enjoy the products. And similarly the Portuguese still have salt cod - as well as ham and cheese.

Pataniscas de Bacalhau. Last year (2023) I ate Pataniscas de Balcahau in Restaurante Molho Bico in Serpa.

Pataniscas de Bacalhau with rice and beans, Restaurante Molho Bico, Serpa, 2023

The patanisca was made by frying shredded salt cod with onion in a wheat flour and egg batter. It was served with a bowl of rice and beans and a good salad (not photographed). This is comfort food, not haute cuisine, and like all great comfort food it is rich, savoury and very satisfying.

Bacalhau Espiritual

This year (2024) at O Arco in Santiago do Cacém, Lynne ate Bacalhau Espiritual. Unlike most Bacalhau recipes its origin is known and fairly recent. In 1947 Countess Almeida Araújo was a consultant for a new restaurant in the Queluz Palace near Lisbon, and gave this name to her adaption of the French dish Brandade Chaude de Morue. The dish involves salt cod, shredded carrot, dry bread soaked in milk, béchamel sauce and a cheesy crust.

Bacalhau Espirtual, O Arco, Santiago do Cacém, 2024

Despite its aristocratic origins, the use of a French sauce and an Italian cheese (Parmigiano in the gratin) it is difficult not to see this as also being comfort food. Lynne enjoyed it very much but could not finish it all. A young man who came in after us and sat alone at an adjacent table, ate a mountainous salad, the whole bowl of Bacalhau and a dessert and left before we had finished our one course. We could have done that 50 years ago, but now we eat less, but savour more (it was never a choice, it just happened).

Other Fish and Seafood

The age of the refrigerated lorry arrived many decades ago, so inland Portugal has all the fish it wants, though it can never be as fresh as it is beside the sea. In 2022 we both ate Polvo à Lagareiro (Octopus Lagareiro -see Eating the Algarve for more details) at the oddly named Planície Gastronomia Criativa (Plain Creative Gastronomy) in Castro Verde and in 2023 Lynne ate Chocos (cuttlefish) at Molho Bico in Serpa. Enjoyable as they were, neither are essentially Alentejo dishes, so I will move on.

Cataplana Alentejano

This may not be an Alentejo dish, either, as the Cataplana is a traditional Algarve cooking vessel, but it was on the menu at Mr Pickwicks in Évora in 2017. Opened at the table, it produced a waft of inviting odours. Inside were huge chunks of deeply flavoured stewed pork, tiger prawns (of Thai origin?), mussels, crab claws and, of course, clams. Everything was steeped in a broth of the usual Portuguese suspects, tomato, peppers, garlic and coriander with chunks of potato boiled in the broth.

Inside the cataplana, Mr Pickwick's, Évora, 2016

It was wonderfully messy – getting your hands in is the only way to deal with prawns and crabs - and in every way delightful. The clams had a yellowish shell with a distinctive black edge. A week later we bought and cooked some identical clams in the Algarve and discovered they originated in Vietnam. In November 2017 we ate the same clams in both Hong Kong and Macau. Algarve clams have long been over-exploited, these are good, cheap and (for the moment) plentiful.

Cheese

Portugal has eleven cheeses that have been awarded PDO (Product of Designated Origin) status, three of them, Évora, Serpa and Nisa come from the Alentejo. All three are made from unpasteurised sheep's milk and curdled using an extract from the cardoon thistle making them suitable for vegetarians.

Nisa is a small town in the Portalegre District, about as for north and east as the old Alto Alentejo province reached.

Nisa Cheese is classified as 'semi-hard,' has a dense texture and is (usually) yellowish white with a subtle flavour and an acidic finish. I found the flavour relatively mild, but complex. The Wine Spectator cheese edition ranked Nisa among their 100 Great Cheeses.This may overrate it a bit, but it is reasonably priced and fairly easy to find (at least in Portugal) and is always enjoyable.

Nisa Cheese

Serpa comes from a small city in the Beja District near the Spanish border. The Cheese is not as easy to find as the other two and we went to Serpa (partly) to buy it. It looks similar but is a little stronger than Nisa. It is softer, too, in a style known as amanteigado meaning buttery. Forever Cheese describe it as strong and complex with sheepy, sour and buttery notes. That seems about right and it is my favourite of these three

Queijo de Serpa

Évora is the administrative centre of the Évora District. It produces a semi-soft cheese which becomes harder and crumblier as it matures and the rind darkens. It is described as being rich and robust with a salty tang. My example seemed a little drier than I would have liked. My plan is to check out another version next year.

Évora cheese

Other Cheeses

DOP cheeses are not very expensive, though they do command a premium price. The Alentejo produces a large quantity of less exalted cheeses, most of which are cheaper and some of which are very good. As they tend to look very similar, choice can be difficult. The price is usually a guide to quality (mostly you get what you pay for) but the only guide to strength/mildness is experience. The two below come from large and reliable Herdade Maia in Évora. One plain, one dusted with pimento, they are well made cheeses which would suit most palates,

Herdade Maia cheese

Cheeses are almost universally made from sheep's milk. With rare exceptions, rinds are edible, and cheeses are cut across, not into segments.

Wine

Alentejo may no longer exist for purposes of local government, but the Comissão Vitivinícola Regional recognises an Alentejo Denominação de Origem Controlada that covers large parts of the Évora and Portalegre districts. Eight subregions (Borba, Évora, Granja-Amareleja, Moura, Portalegre, Redondo, Reguengos, and Vidigueira) can use their own name as well as ‘Alentejo’ on the label.

Borba Tinto

The reds are soft, juicy and easy drinking. Borba is the largest sub-region (by production) and I have always enjoyed the wines from the local co-operative which are inexpensive, widely available and guaranteed to bring a smile to the face.

Encostas de Serpa, Vinho Regional

The whites tend to be more austere. They don’t win prizes in blind tastings, but paired with the right food they have a way of opening out and complementing the flavours of the dish. This is what they were designed to do, and they are very good at it. The Reguengos we drank with the cataplana Alentejano in Évora and the Vidigueira with the polvo in Castro Verde were particularly satisfying.

There is much DOC Alentejo wine, but there is even more Vinho Regional Alentejano, a classification for more basic wines, or for winemakers reluctant to follow the strict rules of DOC. I tend to go by cost rather than precise appellation, at any price point up to €10-12 Alentejo, or Alentejano wines can be relied upon for excellent value

And Finally

Light lunches in small cafés are rarely gastronomic, and not always light. The toastie is universally popular, the word 'tosta' was long ago incorporated into Portuguese. Sometimes a ‘sharing toastie’ can look….

It's a sandwich, Jim, but not as we know it, Café 7arte, Castro Verde 2022

….immense.

Thursday, 11 July 2024

Eating Aldeburgh

Finding Good Food on the Suffolk Coast

Introduction


Suffolk
Aldeburgh
This post differs from the similarly named posts for Malta, Madeira and elsewhere. There we read dozens of menus to see what local people ate, or at least the version of it restaurateurs wish to present to visitors, and then set about eating it

We did our research for those posts in Valletta and Funchal, both orders of magnitude larger than the small Suffolk coastal town of Aldeburgh (pop: just over 2,000). We did read the menus of Aldeburgh’s small clutch of restaurants and although they presented a cross-section of modern British restaurants – far better and more diverse than they were thirty or forty years ago – there was little uniquely Suffolk about them, so we had to look elsewhere.

Suffolk with Aldeburgh (underlined) and the position of Suffolk in England (inset)

The people of Aldeburgh and their visitors obviously care about good food. They have, I am delighted to report, no McDonald's, Burger King, KCF, Domino’s or Starbucks, but instead there is an artisan butcher’s, a bakery or two, a specialist cheesemonger and several independent coffee shops (plus the inevitable supermarket). They also have one local speciality which marks out the town - the fish shacks.

The Fish Shacks

Aldeburgh’s pebble beach is not much use to the bucket and spade brigade, but is good for landing the catch from small fishing boats. Much of that catch finds its way to the line of sheds along the top of the beach

Fish shacks, Aldeburgh

These are not officially called the ‘fish shacks,’ but the name seems appropriate. From this angle they look rather down-at-heal, but that is misleading. Aldeburgh is an affluent little town and these sheds deal in the finest and freshest fish available – and charge accordingly.

Smoked Fish

A couple of them specialise in smoked fish, and this was there we headed on our first morning.

Smoked fish shack

We bought some smoked haddock paté. Which made a pleasant lunch…

Smoked haddock paté, toast and a salad

…and some hot-smoked eel. Hot-smoking is carried out between 74° and 85°C. The fish cooks during the process, resulting in stronger smoky flavour and a firm, moist texture. Cold-smoking is done between 20° and 30° and the fish requires curing with salt afterwards.

The eel looked like a length sawn from a policeman’s truncheon, but the advice given was to cut it in rounds between the vertebrae and removed the leathery skin with a sharp knife. This worked and we gently warmed the resulting discs and served them with buttered boiled potatoes and the last spears of the English asparagus season. And very good it was, too.

Smoked eel, boiled potatoes and asparagus

Fresh Fish

On our final day, we returned to the shacks, browsing for a fish.

An Aldeburgh fish shack

At a shack – not the one photographed – we spied a Dover sole. Big enough to feed two, it was eye-wateringly expensive, because Dover sole is, but we could not resist it.

It was a whole fish, so Lynne decided she needed some advice about preparation. The internet was, as ever, full of suggestions, but it would be a remarkable holiday cottage which supplied the sort of knives needed to fillet the fish raw.

Fortunately, Rick Stein had a practical solution. First, remove the skin. A nick near the tail starts the process…

A nick by the tale starts the process

…and each side comes off in one piece, just as Rick promised. This allows you to deal with the guts which largely sit just behind the head.

Pealing off the skin

Then dust with flour and pan-fry it whole - if your pan is big enough. Even after removing the head, a cut across the fish was necessary to make it fit our pan. Fillet after cooking…

Filleting the cooked sole

…then serve with crushed new potatoes and locally picked samphire.

Dover sole with crushed new potatoes and samphire

Thank you, Lynne (and Rick).

Restaurant Fish

Take Away

Our attempt to eat out on Wednesday ended in failure. We had not booked, every table in the restaurant was occupied and we were turned away with apologies. Time for Plan B.

I earlier listed the fast-food abominations Aldeburgh does not have, and nowhere did I mention a chip shop. I give fish and chips a pass because they are deeply embedded in British food culture, and because they are almost all independent, there are no vast chains of franchised identikit fish and chip shops.

That said, I cannot remember the last time I was in a chippy, but it was years, maybe decades ago. Aldeburgh has two, both under the same management, and one, the Golden Galleon, was 50m from our front door.

The Golden Galleon, Aldeburgh. Our home for the week was up the alley to the left of the chippy

Inside it was bright, clean and did not smell of stale frying. Although there were, as always, other accompaniments we ordered cod and mushy peas with the inevitable chips, took them home and ate them from the chip papers.

Lynne with her fish and chips

The batter was crisp, light and golden, the fish huge and flaky and the chips fresh and not even slightly soggy – and that is as good as it gets.

Eating Out

We returned to our original choice of restaurant two days later, this time with a reservation.

Lynne was disappointed that the red mullet was finished, but instead chose the Catch of the Day, a pleasing plump, fresh plaice that arrived, lurking beneath a bed of capers. She was pleased with her alternative choice.

A nice piece of plaice

Lobster Thermidor is a somewhat dated symbol of luxurious, even extravagant dining.

Thermidor (19 July to 17 August) was the ‘Heat month’ of the French Revolutionary Calendar. Despite their richly descriptive names – Brumaire (Fog month 22 Oct to 20 Nov), Floréal (Flower month, 20 April – 19 May) – the Calendar did not catch on and was abandoned by Napoleon in 1805.

Created in Paris in the 1890s, Lobster Thermidor involved freshly boiled lobster being taken from its shell, shredded and incorporated into a sauce based on onions, mustard, wine, brandy and cream. It is then replaced in the shell, covered with grated Gruyère and popped under a grill until the cheese has melted.

There was no Lobster Thermidor on the menu, but this coast is best known for its crabs, so they had a Crab Thermidor. Maybe it was a bit tongue-in-cheek, and I ordered it with a sense of irony, but it was excellent. Lynne objects to ‘fish that has been messed about’ and although I am less purist, I expected the rich, complex sauce and the cheese to drown out the delicate flavour of crab, but not so, instead they worked together. It was nicely presented, though the salad dressing had a sweetness I could have done without.

Crab thermidor

Having skipped the starter, I was pleased to find I could manage a dessert. I chose the vanilla pannacotta, with rhubarb poached in vodka and shortbread crumb.

Vanilla pannacotta

The pannacotta wobbled nicely, though it may have been too wobbly, but that is erring on the right side. It also tasted of vanilla - I am always pleased when ‘vanilla’ really means ‘vanilla’ and is not being used as a synonym for ‘plain.’ I am unsure why vodka was involved; it hardly added to the flavour. The shortbread crumb provided a pleasing extra texture

An East Anglian Lunch

Not everything is about fish. We ate a lunch using ingredients culled from the specialist local shops where every item was, if not from Suffolk, at least from East Anglia – except the butter, which was sold as being just ‘British.’

An East Anglian lunch

The sourdough bread is from the bakery round the corner.

The tomatoes were supermarket bought in Staffordshire, but were (coincidently) grown in Cambridgeshire.

The cheese top left on the board is Wensum White, an artisan goat’s cheese made at Fielding Cottage on the Steggles family farm near Honingham, just west of Norwich. It is a mild, semi-soft cheese, often described as a ‘goat brie,’ though I find that confusing. It has a delicate flavour and a sumptuous texture. The name comes from the River Wensum which winds its way across Norfolk and through Norwich.

Baron Bigod (pronounced By God, by some, and Bigg-od by others) is made at Fen Farm near Bungay, on Suffolk's northern edge. Made using a Brie-de-Meaux recipe Baron Bigod has a silky breakdown under the rind and balances a clean lactic brightness with mushroomy, vegetal notes (Neal’s Yard Dairy). I always enjoy Brie-de-Meaux and Baron Bigod is as good as any, and better than most. It is surely one of the best cheeses made in England.

Digression alert! Last November we lunched at ‘Pick and Cheese’ at Seven Dials in London, where I had the privilege of tasting Truffle Baron Bigod, the same cheese with a layer of truffle infused ricotta.

Baron Bigod is expensive, the truffled version is, in Lynne’s words, extravagant. As she does not like truffles, I fear I cannot justify such extravagance.

Truffled Baron Bigod, Pick and Cheese

Digression over.

The sausage is a Suffolk chorizo. In 2019 we visited the Countryfile Live exhibition at Blenheim in Oxfordshire where we encountered the prize-winning Suffolk Salami Company in the British charcuterie tent.

Lane Farm Foods, Countryfile Live

Everything they produce is made at Lane farm in the village of Brundish, 20Kkm, as the crow flies, northwest of Aldeburgh. They make their chorizo with DOP Pimentón de la Vera paprika, a smoked paprika imported from Spain, but otherwise ingredients are local. It is smaller in circumference and more densely packed with pork than the mass-produced chorizo imported by supermarkets. Whether Spanish artisan chorizo’s are like this I do not know, but it matters not. This is a spicy, meaty delight and encouraged us to return to the shop and acquire a fennel salami to take home.

And In Conclusion….

We ate many other things during our stay, which were not particularly Suffolk, including an excellent pair of Barnsley chops from the local artisan butcher. There were also several, ‘cup-of-tea-and-a-sandwich lunches, and an occasionally beer and a packet of crisps. After all the food, I should mention that Suffolk is home to the excellent Adnam’s Brewery - and half a dozen or more wineries. We might possibly investigate those another time.

And we did not just eat. We visited castles and Anglo-Saxon burial grounds, old churches, local museums and more, as can be found in the other Aldeburgh post (coming soonish)

Aldeburgh and Around

Part 1: Strollng Round Town
Eating Aldeburgh

and much more to come

Tuesday, 2 July 2024

Strolling Round Town: Aldeburgh and Around Part 1

This is a new post though it covers the events of the 1st and 2nd of July 2024.
It will be moved to its appropriate chronological position shortly.

Fine Fish an Excellent Museum and a Church Full of Memorials

But first, Ickworth House

01-Jul-2024

Suffolk
Aldeburgh is just over 200 miles from home (North Staffordshire), but it is an easy journey, when there are no hold ups, and we had none. Following the M6 which morphs into the A14, there are no traffic lights or roundabouts for 170 miles. The final wander through rural Suffolk is a little slower, and the journey takes around four hours driving. We paused in Bury St Edmunds for a break and to visit Ickworth House.

Suffolk and its position within England)

Being third son, Frederick Hervey never expected to inherit the Earldom of Bristol or the Ickworth estate, so he went into the church, as third sons often did. He was ordained in 1754 and  by 1768 he was Bishop of Derry and doing an eccentrically conscientious job.

His older brothers succeeded to the title and estate, one after another. Both died relatively young and without legitimate issue, so in 1779 Frederick Hervey became the 4th Earl of Bristol aged 49. He liked to be known as the Earl Bishop but held some surprisingly progressive views. After dabbling in Irish nationalist politics in 1783 the authorities decided he should absent himself from Ireland,

Now Ickworth was his he, designed himself an implausible house – two widely separated wings linked by a rotunda.

Model of Ickwoth House

He spent much of his time travelling around Europe indulging his passion for buying art. The Rotunda, intended to display his collection, was the only part finished in his life time. Unfortunately, he lost his collection, trying to return home through France during the Napoleonic wars.

The Ickworth Rotunda

The rotunda belongs to the National Trust and is open to visitors. There are bedrooms and drawing rooms, their walls covered with largely English art…

Arty drawing room in the Rotunda, Ickworth House

… and other rooms stuffed with treasure.

Silver room, Ickworth Rotunda

He continued to travel, dying in Italy in 1803. He tendency to roll into town and put up the very best hotel led to a fashion for hotel owners renaming their properties ‘Hotel Bristol.’ There are still 50 in Italy, 20 in France and dozens more dotted across Europe and beyond.

His heirs completed the house, the east wing is now a hotel, the west wing a conference centre.

Ickworth east wing

We made use of the café and continued towards Aldeburgh

Arriving at Aldeburgh

We reached Aldeburgh in the late afternoon. The former fisherman’s cottage we had rented was in West Lane which connects the High Street with The Terrace. The lane is 40m long, and as The Terrace is 4m higher than the High Street, ends with a flight steps, the top being steep, narrow and with right-angled turns.

West Lane, Aldeburgh

We found a parking place on The Terrace and wrestled our baggage down to the cottage.

Our home for the week, Aldeburgh

The cottage felt surprisingly spacious for a two-up, two-down, was fully renovated and equipped with many things that would have boggled the minds of the earliest inhabitants, but we believe we cannot live without.

We cooked dinner, opened a bottle of wine and watched television – living the dream!

Aldeburgh Pronunciation Guide

Aldeburgh
Two recent posts were set in Wales, (Pontcysyllte and Llangollen) where place names can be problematic for anglophones, but sometimes even English place names do not sound quite as English-speaking foreigners might reasonably expect. All but the most uninformed tourist knows that Edinburgh is pronounced Edin – bruh, and the same applies to Scottish towns like Helensburgh and Fraserburgh. Aldeburgh is in southern England, 420 miles south of Edinburgh and as far as I know the only -burgh in England, but it too is pronounced Ald-bruh, just like Edinburgh – though with an extra redundant ‘e’.

02-Jul-2024

Aldeburgh Morning Stroll

There was no great rush to be up and out and there were some routine matters to deal with before setting out on a tentative exploration. We encountered some sunshine during our stay, but Tuesday was typical of the summer of ’24, threatening rain, and occasionally delivering.

With 2,500 inhabitants Aldeburgh has the design and facilities of a small town, rather than a large village. We walked to the High Street, which is wide and lined with apparently thriving businesses and turned north, away from the town centre.

We passed sturdy Edwardian homes….

Sturdy Edwardian homes, Aldeburgh

….flower filled gardens…

Flower filled gardens, Aldeburgh

….and after turning right onto Victoria Road, the attractive Mill Inn. Everything in this town is in good repair and well looked-after.

the Mill Inn, Aldeburgh

Between the end of Victoria Road and the expanse of shingle beach is Aldeburgh’s impressive Moot Hall.

Moot Hall

The Moot Hall is a timber framed building with brick nogging (I have learned a new word), a gabled roof and an overhanging upper floor, supported by intricately carved brackets. It dates from the first half of the 16th century and could not look more Tudor. The ground floor porch and windows have been restored, but still reflect this period.

Aldeburgh Moot Hall

Originally, Aldeburgh’s town hall, it has served as a meeting place for the borough council, municipal offices and a jail. It is now the home of Aldeburgh Museum, which does not open in the mornings, so we will return in the afternoon.

Snooks

We briefly sheltered from the rain before moving on to the boating lake, overlooked by a statue of Snooks, the dog of popular husband and wife doctors Robin and Nora Acheson. They came to Aldeburgh 1931 and Snoops joined the practice in 1943. Snooks and Dr Robin both died in 1959 while Dr Nora continued practising here until her death in 1981. The statue, unveiled in 1961, is the work of Gwynneth Holt. It commemorates the service of the two doctors, but also Snooks who sometimes went on house calls and was for many years an integral part of the team.

Snooks

The statue was stolen in 2003, this is a replica casting. In 2013 the original was found and now stands in the garden of the Community Hospital the Acheson’s helped found. Some citizens have been concerned for Snooks welfare and he was wearing a bonnet on this cool summer’s day. In winter he has various coats and scarves to ward off the chill.

The Fish Shacks

Aldeburgh’s origins are in fishing. That industry has declined but a few boats still unload their catch on the shingle beach. From the Moot Hall northwards, the path passes a series of sheds perched on the edge of the shingle.

Fish shacks, Aldeburgh

This is where to go to buy the finest and freshest of fish….

An Aldeburgh fish shack

…. or, for a change smoked fish.

Smoked fish shack

It might look like a line of shacks; indeed, it is a line shacks, but even when bought in a shack, fish of this quality and freshness can never be cheap. This was the first of our visits to the fish shacks, what we bought and what made of it is covered in a separate post called Eating Aldeburgh.

We returned home with our purchases and one of them became a light lunch.

A More Purposeful Afternoon

Aldeburgh Museum

In the afternoon we returned to the Moot Hall, climbed the stairs and were warmly welcomed by the enthusiast who took our small fee. He would never have believed it when he was young, he told us, but in mature years he felt delighted and privileged to volunteer in such an excellent local museum.

Too much was packed into one room to cover everything, but here are some highlights.

The Roof of the Moot Hall is one of those roofs that Tudor carpenters could throw up without drawings and with precious little measuring,

The roof of the Moot Hall

The History of the Coastline is told in maps. I have been unable to find the equivalent on-line, but here is a picture of the current coastline.

Aldeburgh and Orford Ness (Map from Bing, copyright TomTom)

The River Alde almost reaches the sea south off Aldeburgh, but longshore drift has created a spit, known as Orford Ness, which means the river must travel a further 10 miles to find the sea. It was not always thus, and it will be different in the future; there are places where the coastline is (literally) set in stone, but much of England’s east coast it surprisingly mobile.

In Roman times the River Alde emptied straight into the sea and the coast was 3km east of its present position. When the Normans arrived the North Sea was slightly wider and longshore drift had started to develop what would become Orford Ness. By the 16th century Orford harbour was in decline, but a new harbour was developing at Slaughden between Aldeburgh and Orford (the village is not on modern maps). Since then, the streets and houses seaward of the Moot Hall have been claimed by the sea, as has the village of Slaughden, and its harbour

They have a 14th Century Chest with three locks, so all three keyholders had to be present to open it. It would probably have held parish documents and other items of value. Whisper it quietly, but Newton Abbot Museum in Devon has a chest with eight locks!

14th century chest, Aldeburgh Museum

Matthew Hopkins. 1645 was a difficult year. Taxes were high, disease was rampant, the harvest had failed and pirates plagued the Suffolk coast. Clearly Aldeburgh was beset by witches. In December, they called in Matthew Hopkins, the self-styled Witchfinder General. His investigation led to the arrest of seven, elderly and vulnerable women. They were imprisoned in the Moot Hall jail, the remains of which can be seen outside the building.

The remains of the prison at the back of the Moot Hall, Aldeburgh

They were given no food and watched see if their familiar spirits came to feed them and so prove their guilt. No spirits came, but if you leave people without food in an unheated prison in the middle of winter, they will do anything to get out. Seven self-confessed witches were subsequently hanged in February 1646. This did nothing to improve Aldeburgh’s situation, but it did provide Matthew Hopkins with a fat fee. It was not the town’s proudest moment.

Newson and Louisa Garrett and their Offspring. Newson Garrett (1812-93) was a prosperous businessman providing malted barley to the brewers of Suffolk from his maltings at Snape near Aldeburgh. He married Louisa Dunnell and they had 11 children, 8 surviving into adulthood. He was mayor of Aldeburgh 1889-90. Aldeburgh has had mayors since 1527, but he was the first to have an official mugshot.

Newson Garret, top left

So far, so unremarkable among the Victorian bourgeoisie, and it is no surprise that the photograph also includes the Garrett’s youngest son George (mayor 1898-1901 and 1906).

The next photo (almost) includes their son-in-law James Anderson, (1893-4 and 1906), and, right in the centre, their daughter (and by then widow of the son-in-law), Elizabeth Garrett Anderson, not just Aldeburgh’s, but Britain’s first female mayor.

Elizabeth Garrett Anderson as mayor of Aldeburgh

But that was the least of her achievements, she was also the first woman in Britain to qualify as a doctor. Her formal education was sketchy and involved no mathematics or science (not girl’s subjects) and there was no existing route into the medical profession for women. Her long and ultimately successful battle against the establishment was won because she was outstandingly able – when permitted to enter examinations, she consistently achieved the top mark - and phenomenally persistent.

Given the strictures of the age, she remarkably found time to marry and have a family. Her daughter Louisa qualified as a doctor and became Britain’s first female surgeon.

Elizabeth Garrett Anderson was one of the most important women of her generation, incredibly, the same can be said of one of her sisters.

Millicent, eleven years Elizabeth’s junior, is better known by her married name, Millicent Fawcett. From 1897-1919 she led the National Union of Women's Suffrage Societies and worked for women’s higher education, as a governor of Bedford College, London and co-founder of Newnham College, Cambridge. She was instrumental in introducing the 1918 Representation of the People Act giving votes to women over 30 (subject to some restrictions).

One hundred years later Millicent Fawcett was the first women to be honoured with a statue in Parliament Square - now, why did that take so long?

Millicent Fawcett, statue by Gillian wearing, Photo; Garry Knight (Public Domain)

Roman Finds. Downstairs as we left, we passed a case containing a copper alloy head, a sword, some lamps, a spoon and other local Roman finds.

Roman finds, Aldeburgh museum

The Scallop

From the Moot Hall, we walked up past the fish shacks towards the Scallop.

Apparently growing organically from the shingle beech, The Scallop was installed in 2003 as a tribute to composer and long-time Aldeburgh resident Benjamin Britten. Crafted from stainless steel by Maggi Hambling, the open scallop shell stands some 4 meters high.

The Scallop, Aldeburgh

Walking round the back allows you to read the inscription and appreciate the weathering of the steel and the part-abstract nature of the work.

The Scallop, rear view. I have turned the camera for the inscription, the sea at Aldeburgh is not really on a slope!

‘I hear those voices that will not be drowned’ is from Montagu Slater’s libretto to Peter Grimes, Britten’s best-known opera. The opera which premiered in 1945 is based on a poem from The Borough a collection published by local poet George Crabbe in 1810.

Set in an English fishing village the opera explores themes of judgment, isolation, and human frailty, set against the backdrop of the sea which Britten's music makes a character in its own right.

Maggi Hambling’s sculptures are often controversial and The Scallop is no exception. Some locals love it, some object to the way it alters the natural landscape of the beach, some just object to it. Whatever your view, it is undeniable that visitors to Suffolk do come to see it (yes, we did.)

The Church of St Peter and St Paul, Aldeburgh

Walking back into town we detoured to the parish church of St Peter and St Paul. I failed to photograph the outside where a stumpy tower presides over a low, wide building, originally 14th century but much altered over the centuries. The large windows mean the interior is well lit.

Inside Aldeburgh Parish Church

The font is an excellent example of 15th-century Perpendicular Gothic style with the traditional octagonal shape.

The font, Aldeburgh Parish Church

Unwanted attention from the Puritans means that much of the font's carving was damaged in the 17th century.

Defaced Angel on the font

The impressive carved oak pulpit may be late medieval or early post-Reformation.

Pupit, Aldeburgh parish church

There are memorials to Elizabeth Garret Anderson,….

Elizabeth Garrett Anderson Memorial, Aldeburgh Parish Church

….Benjamin Britten, in the form of a stained-glass window by John Piper (1903-92), best known for the huge Baptistry Window in Coventry Cathedral. Three sections depict Britten’s settings of The Prodigal Son (1968), The Curlew River (1964) from a Japanese Noh play and The Burning Fiery Furnace (1966)

John Piper's Benjamin Britten memorial, Aldeburgh

…and poet George Crabbe, who is now hardly remembered, but whose work inspired Britten.

George Crabbe memorial, Aldeburgh Parish Church

St Peter and St Paul Graveyard

Many of the Garrett family, including Elizabeth, are buried in the churchyard, ….

The Garrett family plot, Aldeburgh Parish Church

…as is Benjamin Britten, the most important British composer of the middle and later 20th century. Born in Lowestoft, he moved to Snape after retuning from America in 1942 and shortly afterwards to Aldeburgh where he stayed until his death in 1976. He founded the Aldeburgh Festival which has been held annually since 1948.

Benjamin Britten, Aldeburgh Parish Church

Peter Pears was a singer and Britten’s professional and personal partner from 1937 until Britten’s death. Although homosexual activity was illegal until 1968, Britten and Pears relationship was an open secret. Provided they behaved in public, nobody seemed to mind.

Peter Pears

Imogen Holst was the daughter of composer Gustav Holst, who was more English than his name suggests. She never married and dedicated her life first to her father’s musical legacy and then to assisting Benjamin Britten. She was co-director of the Aldeburgh Festival from 1956-77. Since the early 1960s the main auditorium for the festival has been the Snape Maltings, once owned by Newson Garrett.

Imogen Holst, Aldeburgh Parish Church

And so ends the first post from Aldeburgh

Aldeburgh and Around

Part 1: Strollng Round Town
Eating Aldeburgh

and much more to come