Brodsky Quartet - Bovey Tracey, 9 June 2018
We were a few minutes away from booking in to our Newton Abbot Premier Inn on the third of our ten day jaunt inspired by Pet Shop Boys’ ‘Go West’. A quick dip into the muddy waters of the local Tesco left us at the checkouts becoming increasingly aware of an insistent thudding coming from the race course. The race course which is so near to being the front garden of our chosen hotel as makes no difference.
“It’s a pop festival. Mostly Drum and Bass… which, of course, is anathema to you and me, sir,” I was informed by our presumptuous checkout chap.
“Ah, that’s the music which my sons grew up with and which I enjoyed along with them. We stayed in Bristol last night. You know, home of trip hop...”
I saw the beginnings of a glazed expression forming on our server’s face which had nothing to do with Class A drugs. I decided to deflect the situation by asking if our purchase had exceeded the contactless card limit.
Settling in to Room 314 we certainly were close to the sonic action. But it was that frustrating closeness which only allows a muffled (if insistent) version of the full experience. Never mind. We were destined for different musical expression that night.
The Brodsky Quartet were making their fourth appearance at Bovey Tracey, a one-off concert at a venue of which they are understandably fond.
My header picture is of the screen at the church of St Peter, St Paul and St Thomas of Canterbury. It formed the backdrop to a gloriously varied programme of works. Four consummate musicians were illuminated on a raised platform in front of it. Their performance was undeniably special but it seemed to be elevated to even higher spheres by the setting.
I am not a religious person but I have some knowledge of its imagery from studying art history. As I listened I could not escape a reference to one of my favourite paintings, ‘The Adoration of the Magi’ by Gentile da Fabriano. I am not properly qualified to give you a professional critique of what we heard from perfectly pitched strings that night but for me it had all the colour, depth, detail, richness and achingly fine execution of this High Gothic masterpiece.
Time to do an ABBA as 'I Let The Music Speak'. I have created a playlist of the concert programme. If you click anywhere on the picture below you will hear the works which I heard (not all Brodsky performances... sorry)
The Brodsky line-up who entranced us
There were programme notes for the night which can be found here.
This was not part of the main ‘Nourish’ festival but I urge you to consider that as a diary date in September. You will get musical delights as well as crafts and food. You will not get the Brodsky Quartet again this year but Ian Wellens has organised much splendid music.
On our night in the church he introduced the Brodsky Quartet to us with enough suppressed reverence and emotion to suggest that we were in for a treat. It was indeed a very special treat.
* I have to add a final tribute here to the Mrs. Cheoff who is Jan. This concert was just one of the things she found and included in our wonderful ten day exploration of the West Country -xx-
Benedicts... Another Helping
Tasting Menu for three: Friday 11 May 2018
Our fourth visit. About time I dished the dirt, eh? (#Spoileralert: No dirty dishes here - Benedicts is all about hospitality at its polished best)
This meal was a treat for my Mum as part of her 90th birthday celebrations. I had messaged ahead and asked for minimal fuss on that account. Chef Bainbridge has his own inspirational and much-loved mother and I guess he was not going to let my Mum’s evening pass without acknowledging her particular landmark. This greeting card and a pudding with a message at the end of the meal (pic at the end of this post) were quiet, thoughtful gestures which added to Mum’s enjoyment but did not distract other diners. Nicely done.
We were greeted by Adam Vass who I introduced to Mum as the ‘Head Honcho of Hospitality’. But Adam is just one representative of a team who effortlessly bust a gut to make your dining experience special and memorable.
We shared the current tasting menu. I won’t try to describe the dishes which gave us waves of pleasure across the evening. These pictures should give you more than enough food for thought. They are from Benedicts social media pages and are most likely taken by the multi-faceted and terrifically talented Katja Bainbridge. A click on each picture will link to her originals. Here they are - you might even try scrolling to the end of them before exploring booking options. Good luck!
Be prepared for nibbles and treats to arrive from the kitchen as you relax into your first drinks and try to remain calm at the thought of further glorious offerings in store.
Those ‘further glorious offerings’? Here are two dishes from our tasting menu.
There is tangible joy in a room full of excited and delighted diners. This is due to the seamless delivery of everything which should be found in any top restaurant - great food and perfectly judged service. There is also the welcome bonus of generous prices. Mum was able to use all her still very much intact faculties to soak up the wonderful experience created by Benedicts exceptional team.
The Michelin Guide UK have also visited. Their pithy two word assessment below of ‘Simple restaurant’ gives no clue as to the complexity and quality of what is offered at every service at Benedicts. Subjectivity leaves all sorts of blurred edges but I just can’t help wanting to give those Michelin inspectors a subjective kick up the arse.
Richard, Katya and the Benedicts team will, of course, remain magnificent whatever a tyre company or a blogging bloke like me might think.
Here are some of the team celebrating yet another award shortly after our visit.
We continue to be lucky enough to have experiences elsewhere which help us know and understand a little bit about good food and service but we loved Benedicts from the start. Each time we return things get better! Which means that our 240 mile journey there and back will never be a barrier to returning as often as we can.
Black Grape & Pedro Ximenez Sherry Pastilles
This is my adaptation of a recipe from the Cheltenham chef whose mushrooms are wild but whose cooking is magic. I had wanted to increase the number of petits fours which I might offer after meals. When, after a short trip back to his parental home, our son left us with nothing but fond farewells and a considerably large bunch of black grapes I had something to work with.
500g black grape purée/juice
100g Pedro Ximenez sherry
500g caster sugar
100g liquid glucose
20g pectin powder
7g tartaric acid
to coat: 200g granulated sugar
The grapes were zizzed with a hand blender and then passed through a sieve. This leaves something with a little more substance… between a juice and a purée.
Combine that with 50g of the sherry, 450g of the caster sugar and the glucose in a large pan. Bring to the boil, stirring all the time. Cook up to 102°C, stirring enough to stop any sticking or burning.
Mix the rest of the caster sugar with the pectin powder, combining thoroughly. Whisk that mixture into the syrup when it reaches 102°C. Carefully... it's hot! Keep heating and make sure to stir until up to 110°C. Whisk in the tartaric acid and the other 50g of sherry. Strain into a tray lined with baking parchment to a depth of 1cm and leave to cool.
You can then cut into squares, strips or rectangles or use a small circular cutter. A silicone mould gives you the option of getting a more familiar rounded pastille shape. Toss the pieces in the granulated sugar and place in layers separated by baking paper in an airtight container.
My first batch had less pectin and tartaric content and produced a very sticky set. All was not lost as I picked off lumps to roll into balls with lightly wet hands and fingers. Once tossed into the sugar these sunk to a flatter but pleasing domed mound. Even more pleasing is the taste. Some fruit jellies benefit from a teaspoon of citric acid in the sugar coating but these shouldn't be pulled back from their sweet, sticky indulgence.
Here they are joining others from my current home-made selection:
Soft amaretti (Mrs Cheoff's work)
Damson 'cheese'
White chocolate and salted lemon fudge
Bitter chocolate fudge with pistachios and raisins
And... Black grape and Pedro Ximenez jellies!
Great Green Garlicky 'Alliaria petiolata'
You're looking up that fancy Latin name right now, aren't you. Well, perhaps 99% of you are... congratulations to the 'clever clogs' who didn't need to!
Cheffy excitement annually greets the Wild Garlic season with much wilting and chopping of its leaves. Lots of lovely suggestions for its use here. But as it dies down there is now an abundant and free alternative. Jack-By-The-Hedge.
A little more peppery perhaps, but still with a big nod towards the flavour of garlic. After years of being alerted to its existence just the other day I finally picked and used some.
Reference pictures here to help you find the right plant. Some of the lower leaves retain the rounder shape of youth whereas the upper ones have developed the distinctive spearhead habit.
The seed pods visible below are a quick snack while you are picking... and apparently won't leave you with 'garlic breath'.
No bold adventure with my first use of this ingredient. My pea and ham risotto was finished with bags of fresh mint, tarragon, thyme and marjoram. This meal just shouts out comfort food and with friends round to share it I had no intention of interfering too much with its natural appeal. So, a few flowers for presentation in the knowledge that they would provide an additional flavour... justifying their place on the plate. That flavour was noticed and appreciated with interest. Next time I will almost certainly chop some leaves for inclusion in the mix.
And now I am convinced of its qualities I am determined to make Jack-by-the-hedge panna cottas very soon.
This free ingredient is pretty likely to be just a short walk away from wherever you are.
Gillies Jones... Glorious Contemporary Glass
There would always come a time when Stephen Gillies and Kate Jones were properly acknowledged here. After all they have provided Jan and me with so much pleasure for so many years.
On our way to Glasgow recently we made a short, deliberate detour to the Bowes Museum specifically to see some of the latest work from their studio. I urge you to try and do the same (leave Glasgow for another time if you like!) Just eight bowls are on display. But there is so much colour, texture, design and achingly honest craft that the first reaction is delight that they are there at all. Inspired by the local Teesdale landscape, it was a privilege to add our visit to the story of a casual but committed association with a partnership that has blossomed for the last twenty-plus years in its home in the heart of the North York Moors National Park.
We camped at Rosedale Abbey forty years ago. Not long married. No kids. Enough bladder control to confine things at night to no more than one trip from our tent across wet grass to the toilet block. Britain has much to offer but we have returned here very often. No wonder Kate and Stephen were tempted to put down roots a couple of decades after our first visit. The area is lovely. In their case, full of lovely inspiration.
Eventually, alerted to their studio by tourist information leaflets, we found them and saw them at first hand, embedded in one of our favourite landscapes. A few years later we made our first excited purchase, a bowl from the ‘Long Leaves’ series in Steel Blue.
In 2014 we visited the studio again, on Jan’s sixtieth birthday. Kate was there to guide us. She eventually produced some bowls which were not on shelf display and describing one as ‘Pigeon Blue’ its choice was pretty much assured. One of our sons was setting up in business with a miniature figure range which included reference to Nikola Tesla and his rather intriguing relationship with pigeons! So, we had our second bowl, an ‘Opaque’ this time. Kate had brought out other pieces as we browsed and without much debate we impulsively added our third work, ‘Still Pool’.
Having signed up to the newsletter, in November of that year we were alerted to one of Gillies Jones' early 'Limited Edition' bowls. The Peony Bowl was in our home for that Christmas.
No further purchases as yet but we are regularly and sorely tempted. We see the studio's work as it travels to other parts of Britain for temporary exhibition. I remember speeding as calmly as I could to the reception desk at Blackwell The Arts & Crafts House to let them know that a Gillies Jones bowl was within a whisker of crashing from its plinth!
Temporary contemporary juxtaposed with permanent posers... complementing each other nicely
The Bowes Museum exhibition is now in its last two weeks. My pictures cannot do justice to the works on display. If you miss them at Barnard Castle some will appear elsewhere over time. Others have been made. Three of them are on their way to Blowing Hot and Cold in London. Look out for more opportunities by signing up to the Gillies Jones newsletter. And please take advantage of at least one of those opportunities. You can then see that this work has the same strong impact as standing in the landscape itself.
I vaguely remember seeing earlier ‘Landscape’ bowls at the Rosedale studio. Perhaps I didn’t give them enough attention, knowing they were out of our pocket. But I do remember a more graphic, stripped down abstraction in those early forays seeking to express physical and human geography in glass.
The latest work is informed by digital satellite imaging but technology is gently interrupted and questioned by the artist's eye and mind. This creates a synthesis which is revealed in different ways as you move around each work. The mastery of blown glass is there still but the scalpel-like precision of engraving is now even more in tune with the curve and sinew of the material. And the changing features of a landscape influenced by light and seasons twist and swirl through each bowl. We were seduced and stayed longer than planned.
Heading on to our Glasgow destination we left those delightfully accomplished bowls behind us. But we continued to be cradled in their real inspiration until we exhausted its southern limits along the A66.
#101TTDBNT: EIGHT - Bash Out Some Bhajis
#101TTDBNT is back after an eighteen month hiatus!
In the intervening time I have decided to allow the substitution of ‘Tuesday’ for ‘Thursday’ in 101 Things To Do Before Next Tuesday/Thursday. I do love a tiddly touch more titillation from alliteration!
I’m still here with my avowed intent to make a few of you think that cooking is a worthwhile pursuit in your home kitchen… so let's get on with my nudging and inspiring.
At Cheoff Towers Indian cooking remains one of the most inauthentic styles which I attempt. I am most unlikely to be given enough further years on planet Earth to master its true techniques, ingredients, approaches and mind-boggling regional diversity.
Yes, I’ll toast and grind spices for my own curry powder and I’ll mix a paste from scratch as a base for some very tasty dishes but, for the most part, I’m producing very British 'Indian' stuff. The stuff, let us be honest, of many 'Indian' takeaways. Takeaways which were very much a part of our 'It's Friday night, work is done, the weekend begins' ritual. Friday is still very often 'Curry Night' but it is much more likely to be a home-made effort now that the terrible burden of retirement has arrived!
Onion bhajis are made regularly. Although at their best when fresh, they do freeze well after cooking and cooling.
They are made with the paste and recipe from Mr Huda's Chef's Secrets. This is a local business which we discovered a decade ago before they hit the big-time with national supermarkets. I have toyed with the idea of preparing my own spice mix but a nostalgia touched by quaint loyalty has stopped me so far. The array of flavours is really pleasing. Each waits in turn to tickle you.
Here is the relevant recipe. There are plenty more on the Huda's website.
After all the prep you should end up with a mix of sliced onions which are evenly coated with a layer of spicy batter. My mix often has an extra green chilli and the addition of a small, freshly cut lawn of coriander!
Now you must deep fry with care. Get a little production line going with shaping, frying and draining. Three or four at a time go in my pan but judge this carefully for safety reasons. Apart from small items in a wok, this is almost the only deep-frying which I do.
You must also decide on the size wanted. I'll make walnut shapes for canapés and a palm size patty for main meal sides. Mine are not pressed or moulded and result in a less dense, more crunchy bite.
The inevitable stray strands are lifted out with a slotted spoon and guarded jealously. These are usually eaten as soon as they are cooled but a good idea is to save enough for sprinkling crunch on top of fish and rice dishes. They are the equivalent of fish and chip 'scraps'. I have been known to pull off the ragged ends from full bhajis to create even more of these crispy bits. I don't think that makes me a bad person... does it.
Mr Huda's Chef's Secrets do offer a 'Paste for Making Authentic Raitha' on their products page. I'm fine with the style of that particular British takeaway staple but at home freshly chopped mint and our own yogurt provide the zingy dip accompaniment.
You could end up making your own bajees or bajjis but be careful if you make bhajjis because they might be pakoras. As long as you don’t research into the whole thing too much and just get on with making a batch of these spicy onion delights my job here is done.
*You didn’t get to do it by this Tuesday? Relax… Tuesdays just keep on coming along.
And if you're not so fond of alliteration... Thursdays do too.