#liverpool fish and meat market

[stephenkdf560434-blog]

Mississippi Stream Cruise ship Minneapolis.

An online meal organizer is an advantage to a lot of which are actually possessing a difficult time in stabilizing in between their main works and also their kitchen area opportunity. Impression: That singular folks are determined to become welcomed over for yourpower11.info Thanksgiving supper. The auto parking area and also available spot dinner party is actually very appealing to customers. It is actually not a good possibility for the long-run, however if you'll utilize the table just from time to time (or even if you move frequently) after that this can make good sense to select fiberboard.

Upon getting here on the table, there are actually merely a few points you must perform as an act to present really good table manners. Probably, your behavior of attacking up talks will certainly both influence others to carry out the very same as well as offer topics of passions interacting several supper event attendees. Prepared in just half an hour, the creamy deliciousness this simple supper tip is sure to become a home run! Details in a cell phone are actually a smart idea, considering that many of our company carry them along with us into the food store. If you are actually presently a participant from it then you need to begin spreading out the good life U.S.A label amongst people you know so they can additionally join this. An individual due to the title from Barry Shaw, an individual that purchases meat at the Wirral Farmers Market situated near Liverpool claimed that aspect of the passion is actually inquisitiveness and gimmick" as well as this's a wonderful chat starter for supper gatherings". Allow's take over within this scenario the visitors are actually getting to 7:00 pm and also supper will certainly be actually served at 7:40 pm. This took hrs at the oven cooking the sauce as well as creating noodles for a pastas supper However this is a great idea to prepare your meat as much as the medium properly amount, where the meat obtains a gray brown in the outdoors as well as retain merely a channel volume of juice.

U.N. emissaries of the USA, Britain, France and also Russia did not join the dinner conference with Foreign Official Manouchehr Mottaki arranged by Iran's U.N. mission, yet sent reduced degree mediators. My property is that a connection profile under existing conditions should be definitely dealt with through folks along with a great performance history. Furthermore, you won't receive any kind of appeals from frustration if you notify the little ones you are actually making hen treasures for supper. That is likewise the custom-made to start the supper along with a thanksgiving prayer or blessing. May your property too be actually loaded with enjoyable and contentment and intermittent good things you delight in!

Some of the choices a provider must consider while fund raising coming from prospective financial backing partners is to try to find a really good standing placement agent. Exclusive after supper sound speakers checklist and also rates coming from After Dinner World who are actually a UK member of The Professionals Asociation. Acquiring icy fish is in fact a very good way to ensure a clean item, however this might not be as convenient when ceasing heading property coming from job to find one thing for dinner. The Kim Yan Street holy place serves free vegetarian morning meal, lunch time and also dinner coming from 7am to 7pm.

[chriskarrtravelblog]

Top 10 B&Bs

From Georgian elegance to a converted chapel and a former windmill in the reed beds, The Good Hotel Guide features a great choice of places for bed and breakfast. Here the editors pick ten of the best B&Bs

  Chapel House, Penzance, Cornwall

A Georgian house overlooking the harbour, with views to St Michael’s Mount has been given the boutique treatment by hostess Susan Stuart. The six bedrooms are chic and contemporary, with soft coastal hues, perhaps a hand-made four-poster. New arrivals are welcomed with tea and cake. On Thursday, Friday and Saturday nights, guests can enjoy a communal supper of local produce. Breakfast includes sizzled cod roe with smoked bacon, home-baked breads and pastries. At Sunday brunch there are devilled kidneys, kedgeree, bubble-and-squeak.

B&B £125–£220. Set dinner £27.50. 01736 362024, chapelhousepz.co.uk

  Brownber Hall, Newbiggin-on-Lune, Cumbria

There are old-fashioned comforts at Peter Jaques-Walker’s Victorian country house with views to Howgill Fells – freshly baked cakes on the sideboard, a 1950s honesty bar – but this is a stylish operation. The eight bedrooms, some with wet room shower, are contemporary and unfussy, supplied with 100 Acre toiletries. Public rooms have bare floorboards, period furniture, modern artworks. Four nights a week there are stone-baked pizzas, while breakfast brings home-made granola, home-baked sourdough, Westmorland sausage, waffles and crispy bacon.

B&B £66–£200. À la carte £30. 01539 623 208, brownberhall.co.uk

  Shallowdale, Ampleforth, Yorkshire

There are glorious views to the Howardian hills from Anton van der Horst and Phillip Gill’s 1960s house in beautifully tended gardens. With just four bedrooms, the hosts can lavish time and care upon their guests, and clearly love to do so. There are home-baked scones at tea, books to read, freshly squeezed orange juice at breakfast. Little extras include chocolates and luxury toiletries. At night, given notice, Phillip will cook dinner with imagination and real flair.

B&B single £115–£140, double £135–£170. Set dinner £48). No under-12s. 01439 788 325, shallowdalehouse.co.uk

  2 Blackburne Terrace, Liverpool

A town house on a cobbled drive in the city’s Georgian quarter has been given a very stylish make-over by owners Sarah and Glenn Whitter. The four bedrooms are supplied with hand-made chocolates, a nip of artisan gin. One has an in-room, free-standing bath, a blue velvet sleigh bed; a top-floor suite has an ottoman upholstered in orange velvet, a bathroom with a free-standing volcanic-limestone bath against a raw stone wall. Guests have use of the drawing room and walled garden. Breakfast brings rare-breed meats, kippers, vegetarian options.

B&B £160–£290. No under-10s. 0151 708 5474, 2blackburneterrace.com

  Old Whyly, East Hoathly, Sussex

Sarah Burgoyne’s Georgian red-brick manor house in glorious gardens with tennis court and outdoor pool, close to Glyndebourne, is essentially a beautiful private home, filled with antique furniture, paintings and possessions. New arrivals are welcome d with tea and home-baked cakes. The four bedrooms have romantic period style. At night Paris-trained Ms Burgoyne cooks dinner, served by candlelight in the dining room, or under a vine-covered pergola. Breakfast brings eggs laid by the hens and ducks that roam the grounds, with orchard fruits, honey from the hives.

QBandB Old Whyly

B&B £98–£150, D,B&B £136–£188. Set dinner £38. 01825 840216, oldwhyly.co.uk

  Cley Windmill, Cley-next-the-Sea, Norfolk

One of the most unusual B&Bs in Britain, Julian and Carolyn Goldee’s five-storey tower mill stands overlooking the River Glaven and reed beds, with views to the North Norfolk coast. There are eight characterful bedrooms in the mill tower and outbuildings. The Wheel Room and its shower room are accessed by ladders. The River Room has views on three sides and direct garden access. Book ahead for a set dinner in the beamed room at the tower base.

B&B doubles £159–£245. Set menu £32.501263 740 209, cleywindmill.co.uk

  Millgate House, Richmond, Yorkshire

Nothing is stinted at this Georgian town house on the market square. Tim Culkin and Austin Lynch, owners since 1980s, have filled every room with antiques and artworks, clocks and ornaments, while creating a green oasis in the walled garden. The six bedrooms have original features, perhaps a fireplace, a cabinet of china. In the morning the Spode and silverware are laid out for a breakfast of home-baked bread, organic yoghurt, fresh fruit, kippers or what you will.

B&B £125–£165. 01748  823 571, millgatehouse.com

  St Cuthbert’s House, Seahouses, Northumberland

Jill and Jeff Sutheran are the friendly hosts at this converted Presbyterian chapel B&B and occasional music venue. A pulpit gallery overlooks the sanctuary cum lounge, with harmonium and honesty bar. A ground-floor bedroom has a walk-in wet room. All have a coffee machine, black-out curtains, Gilchrist and Soames toiletries, robes, slippers, a salon-quality hair dryer. A breakfast of honey with Lindisfarne mead, award-winning sausages, kippers or kedgeree from the local smokehouse, fresh-baked bread and home-made marmalade sets guests up for a day exploring the Farne Islands.

B&B single £110–£130. 01665 720456, stcuthbertshouse.com

  Riverwood, Strathtay, Perth and Kinross

The River Tay runs through the woodland gardens of Ann and Alf Berry’s contemporary house in a conservation village a short drive from Pitlochry. Guests can fish for brown trout, enjoy a complimentary round of golf at Strathtay course. The interiors are very smart (no outdoor shoes, please). Bedrooms have an espresso machine, a mini-fridge, Arran Aromatics toiletries. Some have a private patio. A wonderful breakfast brings Dunkeld smoked salmon, potato rösti, griddled pancakes. A dinner of local ingredients is offered on certain nights.

B&B £110–£155, D,B&B (on selected nights) £180–£215. No under-12s. 01887 840 751, riverwoodstrathtay.com

  Ael y Bryn, Eglwyswrw, Pembrokeshire

In the heart of the Pembrokeshire countryside, overlooking gardens with a wildlife pond, water features and views to the Preseli hills, Robert Smith and Arwel Hughes’s B&B invites guests to unwind. Built in the 1940s as a hostel for agricultural workers, it has been made over by the owners with every comfort. Guests have use of the conservatory, music room and library. Four immaculate bedrooms are supplied with ground coffee, fresh milk and biscuits. A communal dinner is served with prior notice.

B&B single £90–£150. Set dinner £26–£30. No under-16s. 01239 891 411, aelybrynpembrokeshire.co.uk

    The post Top 10 B&Bs appeared first on Britain Magazine | The official magazine of Visit Britain | Best of British History, Royal Family,Travel and Culture.

Britain Magazine | The official magazine of Visit Britain | Best of British History, Royal Family,Travel and Culture https://www.britain-magazine.com/features/top-10-bbs/

source https://coragemonik.wordpress.com/2019/06/27/top-10-bbs/

[easytravelpw-blog]

Full text write on https://easy-travel.pw/6-of-the-best-pubs-with-rooms-in-london/england/

6 of The Best Pubs With Rooms in London

01 of 06

The Fox and Anchor, Clerkenwell

Fox and Anchor

Located opposite Smithfield Market in the heart of Farringdon, the Fox and Anchor is a handsome and historic pub. The narrow wood-paneled bar is a popular spot for market porters and opens at 7 am Monday to Friday for breakfasts and beers. The massive 'City Boy Breakfast' is piled high with eggs, bacon, sausages, black pudding, tomatoes, mushrooms, and beans, and is served with a pint of stout.

Meaty bar snacks like pork scratchings and British charcuterie boards are served throughout the day and roast dinners are available on Sunday. The six elegant rooms are decorated with photos and prints of the local area, dark walls, and plush velvet fabrics. Some rooms feature fireplaces and roll top baths and the Market Suite has an outdoor terrace. 

How to get there: The Fox and Anchor is a 5-minute walk from Farringdon station, a national rail station and an underground station on the Circle, Hammersmith & City, and Metropolitan Lines. 

02 of 06

The Pilot, Greenwich

The Pilot Greenwich

Located in North Greenwich, the Pilot is within walking distance of the O2 Arena and makes a great base if you have tickets to see a blockbuster gig at the iconic venue. It sits on a cute cobblestone street lined with Georgian cottages and was built in the early 1800s to cater to local coal workers. The bar serves cask ales and craft beers and dishes up seasonal British dishes from an open kitchen. If the weather's good, grab a seat in the beer garden or head up to the sunny roof terrace.

The eclectic rooms feature colorful artwork and giant wooden bed frames and come with free WiFi and parking. Arrive in style by hopping on a river boat (Thames Clipper) or taking the Emirates Air Line cable car from the Royal Docks. Bonus fact: The pub features in the music video for Blur's 1994 Britpop anthem, Park Life.  

How to get there: The Pilot is less than a 10-minute walk from North Greenwich Station on the Jubilee Line and a 5-minute walk from the Emirates Air Line Greenwich Peninsula station. Thames Clippers operate a river bus service to the O2 Arena.

03 of 06

The Half Moon Pub, Herne Hill

Fuller's

This iconic south London boozer dates to 1896 and was once a popular venue on the 'pub rock' circuit attracting artists like David Bowie, U2 and Tom Waits. It re-opened in March 2017 after a huge restoration project following a local flood. Many of the original features — including chunky wood panels, painted mirrors, and intricate windows — remain but the pub now has a contemporary gastropub look.

Downstairs, you'll find a traditional bar area, a light-filled modern restaurant and a cool beer garden with fire pits and a children's play area. The 12 boutique rooms are named after astronauts that have walked on the moon and are both colorful and characterful with thoughtful extras like Marshall digital radios, coffee machines, and posh toiletries. 

How to get there: The Half Moon Pub is located across the road from Herne Hill train station. The station is served by the Thameslink and Southeastern rail networks and is 11 minutes from London Blackfriars and 9 minutes from London Victoria.

04 of 06

The Malt House, Fulham

Part of the Jolly Fine Pub Group, the Malt House in Fulham is a good looking gastropub with six stylish rooms. While the building dates back to 1729, the interiors are sleek and modern and the restaurant serves contemporary meals. Fill up on hearty British dishes like slow-cooked pork cheeks with creamy mash and roast beef served with Yorkshire pudding and all the trimmings.

Dine in the pretty courtyard garden in the summer months and retire to one of the rooms, which are all kitted out with king size beds, fancy wallpaper, flat-screen TVs and coffee machines. Rates include WiFi, homemade cookies, and mineral water. The pub is within walking distance of Chelsea FC's home ground, Stamford Bridge, the King's Road, and Chelsea Harbour. 

How to get there: The Malt House is a 5-minute walk from Fulham Broadway station on the District Line. 

Continue to 5 of 6 below.

05 of 06

The Bull & The Hide

The Bull and The Hide

Set amid towering skyscrapers and sleek wine bars, the Bull & The Hide is a modern take on a traditional boozer. It was originally built as a residence for a local nobleman and parts of the building date to 1550. Sip a pint from the copper bar on the ground floor and fill up on classic pub grub like pies and Scotch eggs.

The first-floor dining room serves more substantial dishes with ingredients sourced from Billingsgate fish market and Smithfield meat market. The seven rooms are decorated in light grays and soothing pastel colors and feature toiletries from British perfumer, Miller Harris. From some rooms, you can spy the Gherkin skyscraper. 

How to get there: The Bull & The Hide is less than a 5-minute walk from Liverpool Street station, a national rail station and an underground station on the Central, Circle, Hammersmith & City, and Metropolitan Lines. 

06 of 06

The Grazing Goat, Marylebone

A couple of blocks from Oxford Street, the Grazing Goat in Marylebone's Portman Village is a stylish gastropub with eight cozy rooms. With its roaring fires, mounted deer heads and chandeliers made from antlers, it has an urban ski lodge vibe.

The bar serves local ales and hearty snacks while the dining room above offers a Best of British menu of classic gastropub dishes like beer battered fish and chips and lamb rump. The rooms are set over three floors and feature wooden sleigh beds, light gray walls, sumptuous throws, and Bang and Olufsen gadgets. 

How to get there: The Grazing Goat is less than a 5-minute walk from Marble Arch underground station on the Central Line. 

#travel #airlinetickets #airtickets #cheapairfare #planetickets #travelinsurance #travelquotes #travelblogger #traveller #travelling #travelocity #travelodge #vacation

[eatingexeter]

I’d heard some great things about the food at Pho following their launch night, so I was really excited to go along and see for myself.  Pho is a Vietnamese restaurant, the first of its kind in this neck of the woods. If you haven’t had Vietnamese food before, the owners describe it as “similar to Chinese or Thai but with complex flavours, more contrast of colour and texture and with lots of fresh herbs it’s healthier”.

So let’s get stuck in and ‘Go Pho’!

Pho is located in the Queen Street Dining Quarter where Polpo used to be. There is plenty of seating outside and in.  My 20 year old son accompanied me on this visit and we ate inside to get the complete Pho experience.

With drinks in hand and a plate of crackers with a sweet chilli sauce to nibble, we perused the menu which looked very exciting and inviting.  Try pronouncing the names of the dishes – that will put a big smile on your face for starters!  Fortunately underneath was a detailed description of the dish which will help with your choice.

I went for the Cha Gio, pork crispy spring rolls (veggie option available) with a peanut sauce. I had a tip-off about the excellent peanut sauce.  My son chose the pork and lemongrass meatballs and a nuoc cham dipping sauce.  Both dishes arrived served on a plate of lettuce and herbs. The waiter told us how to eat our starters; you tear off a piece of lettuce, place the spring roll or meatball in the middle with a mint leaf and wrap the lettuce leaf around it, then dip into the sauce.

Now that sounded like fun and it was!  The mint leaf certainly added to the flavour of the very lightly spiced, delicate crispy spring roll.  It just so happened we were sitting near to some other diners who were using the chopsticks to eat their starters so we thought we would do the same.  They tasted even better this way.  We shared the dips, both went well with each dish.  The peanut sauce was particularly good.

Pho, the Vietnamese national dish, is a very special bowl of soup with noodles in.  It is a broth made by simmering bones very slowly for a good 12 hours which allows the Pho to develop all the flavours, goodness and aromas.  These steaming bowls of soup are served with a plate of fresh herbs to make the dish your own, as well as the extra flavourings on the table. These were Sriracha (chilli sauce), homemade garlic vinegar, homemade chilli and garlic paste and a fish sauce. A bit like a DIY soup!

I chose the House Special ‘Spicy Green’ chicken Pho and Ashley went for Bun Rieu, a classic dish from the Hanoi region of Vietnam, which was a rich tomato and crab broth with vermicelli noodles.  We dived in with our chopsticks to fish out the noodles and taste the delicious broth, meat and herbs before deciding if we wished to add any other sauces and accompanying herbs. This was a big bowl of soup and once you had wrestled with the noodles and delicate herbs using your chopsticks, you could slurp the rest with a wooden spoon. There must have been some splashing going on, as the waitress asked if we would like a bib.

Whether or not she thought we were particularly messy eaters, we couldn’t see anyone else wearing one. But we agreed that actually getting bibbed was a very good idea. The fun continued as we attempted to finish our tasty bowls of broth. (We did see other diners bibbed up on our way out later).  As well as the Pho dishes, you could order plates of noodles, rice or salads.

Feeling a little full for dessert, my eyes lit up when I spied banana fritters on the menu.  Both desserts served with coconut ice cream, my warm fritters and Ashley’s pandan waffle were in fact a refreshing end to our meal.

This was a new and fun dining experience for us and we could see all the other diners enjoying themselves too.  If you don’t have a big appetite, then maybe just have a bowl of Pho.  Heading into autumn I can see that I will be making a detour to Pho for a tasty bowl of heart-warming broth and asking for a bib before I dive in!

This was a hosted review: the opinions expressed were not influenced by the restaurant.

Where is it?

Pho, 18 Higher Market Guildhall, Queen Street, Exeter  EX4 3HP

Check for opening hours: https://www.phocafe.co.uk/locations/exeter/

To book a table call 01392 706778 or email exeter@phocafe.co.uk

Exeter is Pho’s 27th restaurant.  You can find others in Balham, Battersea, Birmingham, Brighton, Bristol, Cambridge, Chiswick, Clerkenwell, Covent Garden, Ealing, Guildford, Islington, Kingston, Leeds, Leicester, Liverpool, Manchester, Oxford, Oxford Circus, Reading, Soho, Spitafields, St Pauls, Stratford, Westfield, Wimbledon

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/PhoRestaurant/ 

Twitter @PhoRestaurant

Instagram https://www.instagram.com/phorestaurant/

Restaurant Review: Pho, Queen Street, Exeter by Sue Stoneman @phorestaurant @sue_stoneman @devonfoodhour #restaurantreview #devonfood I’d heard some great things about the food at Pho following their launch night, so I was really excited to go along and see for myself. 

[redherringquotes]

John Greaves Nall, Great Yarmouth and Lowestoft: A Handbook for Visitors, 1866

Page 13: Footnote: Thomas Nashe was a Lowestoft man, born in 1558, a B.A. of St. John’s College, Cambridge, and one of the ablest Euphuistic writers of the Elizabethan age. His very rare tract on Great Yarmouth, reprinted in the Harlan Miscellany, vol. II, is a characteristic and favorable specimen of the literary fustian of his day;— “Taffeta phrases, silken terms, precise, Three plied hyperboles, spruce affectation, Figures pedantical.’ It is entitled “Nashe’s Lenten Stuff concerning the description and first procreation and increase of the town of Great Yarmouth, in Norfolk, with a New Play never played before, of the Praise of the Red Herring. Fit of all Clerks of Noblemen’s kitchens to be read; and not unnecessary by all serving men who have short board-wages to be remembered.” The principal passages of this scarce and curious work are given in the Appendix. Page 273: Footnote: Formerly, in many parts of the kingdom, in the Shrove Tuesday procession, was a man called Lenton, to represent Lent, clad in white and red herring skins, and his horse had trappings of oyster shells. Page 341: Gillingwater relates that in 1776 a panic set in amongst the herring merchants of Lowestoft, an extinction of their fishery being apprehended from attempts at that time commenced by the merchants of Scotland, the Isle of Man, and Liverpool, to introduce at their respective stations the red herring cure. ‘Towers’ from Lowestoft and Yarmouth were engaged to teach the processes, and an endeavor was made to displace the English East Coast herrings in the markets of the Mediterranean, the larger coarser fish of the North being introduced at Leghorn, and in the Levant, at lower prices. After several years’ operations, the attempt was abandoned as a failure, the nature of the Scotch herring proving unsuitable, their fat and oily quality rendering the fish both difficult to smoke, and unpleasant to the taste, the season also at which they were caught — in the heat of summer — affecting the cure. Page 344: Foonote; The Yarmouth red herring exportation has almost rom the first labored under grievous disadvantages. The heavy freight incurred by the lengthy voyage to the ports of the Mediterranean is a great drawback to its profits. Add to this the onerous duties and local charges, and the result has been that with some countries it has been carried on under conditions almost prohibitory. In Spain and Portugal they are quite excluded. Page 346: This would however be a great underestimate, inasmuch as it is computing the entire catch, at the weight of full, fresh, or ‘wet’ fish of the largest size. The smoked red herring, the curing of which absorbs nearly half the Yarmouth catch, loses much of its weight in the process, and a barrel of 2 cwt. will contain 1,000 fish and upwards. A proportion (about a fifth,) of the catch are shotten herrings, and of these a last will be just half the weight of the full fish. A barrel of Yarmouth herrings, as regards its weight and contents, is anything but a fixed quantity, and if a dozen persons in the fish trade be asked to define it, the probability is that a different answer will be made by each, the most frequent reply would give 500 fish to the cwt.; the red herring forming the staple of the local trade. Page 353: “The puissant red herring, the golden Hesperides red herring, the Maeonian red herring, the red herring of Red Herrings Hall, every pregnant peculiar of whose resplendent laud and honor to delineate and adumbrate to the ample life, were a work that would drink dry fourscore and eighteen Castalian fountains of eloquence, consume another Athens of fecundity, and abate the haughtiest poetical fury betwixt this and the burning Zone, and the tropic of Cancer.’ “There are of you, it may be, that will account me a palterer for hanging out the sign of the Red Herring in my title page, and no such feast towards, for aught you can see. Soft and fair, my masters; you must walk and talk before dinner an hour or two, the better to whet your appetites to taste of such a dainty dish as the red herring.” — Nashe’s Lenten Stuff. Page 358: The proverbs of a people are its most genuine cardiphonia, the fireside communing of a nation, the deliverance of its collective wisdom on the subjects which most engross its thoughts. In Dutch proverbs the herring occupies the foremost place. The national importance of their fishery to the comfort and well-being of the country is illustrated in their, — ‘Herrings in the land, the doctor at a stand.’ Their ‘Don’t cry herrings till they are in the net’ is the expression of a caution conveyed in a hundred shapes in other languages. There is a curious disparagement of the larger fish conveyed in their — ‘Big fish spring out of the kettle’ — ‘Big fish devour the little ones’ — ‘Great fishes break the net’ — ‘Little fish are sweet.’ Our English — ‘It’s neither, fish, flesh, nor good red herring’ is complimentary to the latter. An obsolete English proverb is that of ‘Luck in a bag, and then you may wink and choose, for the devil a barrel the better herring amongst the lot.’ The Scotch proverb of, ‘Let ilk herring hing by its ain head,’ smacks more of the latitude of the Yarmouth curing houses, but their ‘Dinna gut your herrings till you get them’ is perfectly characteristic. ‘O’ a’ fish i’ the sea, herring is king,’ is an old Scotch saying, another is, ‘It’s but kindly that the pock savor of the herring,’ of which, ‘the cask still stairs o’ the herring’ is a variation. A rhyming saw is that of — If you would be a merchant fine, Beware of o’ auld horses, herring, and wine. The first will die, the second stink, and the third turn sour. The Danish proverb, ‘Better a salt herring on your own table than a fresh pike on another man’s,’ is a homily upon contentment which the world is more apt to preach than listen to, and but sorry comfort can be extracted from their ‘Of bad debtors you may take spoilt herrings.’ ‘As straight as the backbone of a herring,’ is one of the proverbial sentences collected by Ray. In the Isle of man the two Deemsters or Judges, when appointed, declare they will render justice between man and man, “As equally as the herring bone lies between the two sides,” and image which could not have occurred to any people unaccustomed to the herring fishery. ….. Footnote: Among the proverbial observations gathered by Ray, is an obscure one relating to its cookery — “Red herring ne’er spake but e’en (once), Broil my back, but not my weamb.” The bony strictures of the herring has supplied an appellation to herring bone masonry, courses of stone laid angularly, and to the herring bone cross-stitch in seams, used chiefly in woolen work. ….. The herring has furnished the theme for a variety of similes, which abound in the works of our dramatists and slang writers. ‘Dead as a herring; Packed as close as herrings in a barrel; Scragged, lagged or sent across the herring pond,’ the felon’s irreverent Old Bailey formula for the terrors of the law, may be instanced. The sporting freak of laying hounds on a red herring trail, on a blank or frosty day, has supplied that caveto to an enlightened public, which ‘decies repetita placebit’ — not to be put upon a false scent, and distracted from the game in view. ‘A shotten herring’ has passed into literature amongst the bye words of contumely. “If manhood, good manhood, be not forgot upon the face of the earth, then am I a shooter herring,” exclaims Falstaff. In Quevedo’s description of the ‘House of Famine,’ “the master was a skeleton — a mere shotten herring.” Page 361: Burton, in his ‘Anatomy of Melancholy,’ discussing diet, quotes in commendation of sea fish Gomesius, an authority in whom one’s faith later on gets terribly shaken, on finding him declaring that fishes ‘pine away for love and wax lean.’ Galen pronounces fish to be melancholy food, but seems to have been a dyspeptic critic somewhat hard to please, and condemning beef and mutton as open to the same objection. Besides he is flatly contradicted by Cicero, who affirms that for some distempers of the mind fish will be found a better prescription than philosophy. A writer of our day has ingeniously sought to prove that Shakespeare was profoundly versed in medicine. We have not seen his book, and therefore do not know what weight of authority he attaches to Falstaff’s declaration (2 Henry iv, Act. 4): “There’s never any of these demure boys come to any proof; for their drink doth so overcool their blood, and making many fish-meals, that they fall into a kind of male-green sickness; and then, when they marry, they get wenches.” Sir Toby Belch was of Sir John’s way of thinking. ‘A plague o’ these pickle herrings!’ is his drunken apostrophe to the disguised Viola. Whilst some writers have dwelt on the ‘cold phlegm of a fish diet,’ others have criticized its heating tendencies. ‘To think on a red herring,’ exclaims Nashe in his ‘Lenten Stuff,’ ‘such a hot stirring meat it is, is enough to make the cravenest dastard proclaim fire and sword against Spain. The most itinerant virgin wax phisnomy that taints his throat with the least rib of it; it will imbrawn and iron-crust his flesh, and harden his soft bleeding veins as stiff and robustious as branches of coral.’ Page 366: Of all fish that swim the sea, none has been more bountifully and abundantly supplied by a wise Providence for the sustenance of man than the herring; and, considering its cheapness, its excellent flavor and wholesomeness, no article of diet has undergone so absurd a proscription from the tables of the wealthy and great. That vile purse pride of the vulgar rich, which would fain protest with Peter that it had ‘never eaten anything that is common,’ has in this instance but obeyed with a servile fidelity the culinary edict which has banished the beautiful but plebeian fish from the menu of fashionable society. This ostracism of the herring is a thing of modern date, for turning over the leaves of our old cookery books, the reader will be surprised at the important place the red herring formerly occupied in the household menage, and the multiplicity of ways in which it was brought to table — stewed, potted, baked, boiled, roasted, fried, made into pies, soups, ragouts, terrines, puddings, etc.; dressed with cabbage, pickled with mushrooms, boiled with carrots, dished the Italian way, the Spanish way, as Virginia trouts, cum multis alitis, quoe etc., the choice offered to the gourmand is quite bewildering, whilst the recipes given for a variety of epicurean banquets on fresh herring roes, by Carême, prince of modern cooks, and others, would rouse the palled appetite of a Lucullus. Page 367: It is to be regretted (fàcheux) he observes, that the red herring does not enjoy in general a reputation sufficiently exalted to gain it admission to the tables of the great, and that the ostentation of rich people has banished it to the cookery of the people. It wakes up the blaséd appetite, it rouses vigorously the relaxed nerves. Served up as a hors d’oeuvre (side-dish) it prompts one to do justice to the entrées; cut in small morsels and mixed with the salad it gives it piquancy. Moreover it has a variety of exceptional uses, and if taken with moderation ought never to be entirely banished the table. It has besides an excellent virtue, one, of which the wine imbiber gratefully admits the value — it excites thirst, and renders him indulgent as to the quality of the wine. From all this one may conclude that maugre its defects — the red herring, like many people of merit, is of a much greater value than its ordinary reputation. Page 388: A cheap family Scotch dish is that of several pickled herrings, washed and put in a stone pan, or close covered pot, filled up with peeled potatoes and a little water, and baked in the oven or boiled till done. The herrings should be placed uppermost. A red herring sandwich is one of the standing list of articles supplied at the new model dining rooms opened in Glasgow. Page 399: Footnote: The reader may consult for much curious heraldic lore, treated very attractively, Moule’s Heraldry of Fish, 8vo. 1842, to which we are indebted for part of the foregoing. Mat: Thy lineage, Monsieur Cob, what lineage? what lineage? Cob: Why, sir, an ancient lineage, and a princely. Mine ancestry came from a king’s belly, no worse man; and yet no man neither (by your worship’s leave, I did lie in that), but Herring the king of fish, (from his belly I proceed), one o’ the monarchs o’ the world, I assure you. The first red herring that was broiled in Adam and Eve’s kitchen, do I fetch my pedigree from, by the harrot’s book. His, Cob, was my great great-mighty-great-grandfather. Mat: Why mighty, why mighty? I pray thee. Cob: O, it was a mighty while ago, sir, and a mighty great Cob. Mat: How know’t thou that? Cob: How know I? why, I smell his ghost, ever and anon. Mat: Smell a ghost! O unsavory jest! and the ghost of a herring, Cob.”—Every Man in his Humor. Page 400: ‘Be of good cheer, my weary readers, for I have espied land,’ breaks out Nashe, towards the close of his mad rhapsodical fantasias on the praises of the red herring. ‘Fishermen, I hope will not find fault with me for fishing before the net, or making all fish that comes to the net, in this history,’ he adds, and we would crave the same indulgence for this discursive, gossiping narrative. Our space imperatively requires us to take leave of this fascinating theme which has encroached so largely upon its originally allotted limits. We quit it with the greater reluctance, at leaving our tale but half told. More than half our materials, — illustrating the history of the herring fishery in Scotland, Ireland, Holland, and the Baltic, — and tracing the origin and growth of that romance of natural history, the herring migration theory, are per force thrown over for some future opportunity. Page xxii: A Ramble Round Old Yarmouth: …. “To fetch the red herring in Trojan equipage, some of every of the Christ Cross alphabet of outlandish cosmopolite furrow up the rugged brine, and sweep through his tumultuous ooze. For our English Microcosmos or Phoenician Dido’s hide of ground, no shire, county, count palatine, or quarter of it, but rigs out some oaken squadron or other to waft him along Cleopatrean Olympickly, and not the least nook or crevice of them but is parturient of the like super-officiousness, arming forth, though it be but a catch or pink, no capabler than a rundlet or washing bowl to imp the wings of his convoy. Holy St. Taurbard, in what droves, the gouty bagged Londoners hurry down, and dye the watchet air of an iron russet hue with the dust that they raise in hot spurred rowelling it on to perform compliment unto him.”

[tombutt585471-blog]

" Everybody Possesses High" Company Dairy Products Catch "High Quality Entrance"

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[wbouldingblog-blog]

There isn’t really enough space to get comfortable in my bunk on this double-bunk sleeper bus. Each of the 35 travellers has their own bed, with two rows on the sides next to the windows and a central row, which is where I’m sitting. I’m on the second of two buses from Hoi An to Ho Chi Minh City, and have had about 4 hours’ sleep in total. Of the 22 hours of bus travel we started with, we’ve got about 10 left. I’m folded in half with my big blue bag under my legs as it won’t fit anywhere else and Henny, surprisingly enough, is sleeping to my left, oblivious to the views of the white sandy beaches and interesting-looking islands now visible in the early morning sunlight from her side of the bus. This, dear readers, gives me a break in adventuring long enough to fill you in a little on our time in Hoi An, as long as I can keep my eyes open (which is proving hard).

We arrived at Danang airport and were met by a chap from the hotel, who had our name on a board (I think I mentioned this previously) and two Spanish travellers who had been abandoned by their hotel after arranging a pickup a few hours’ previously. We took them with us from the airport on the 45-minuteish bus to Hoi An, during which time they cunningly enquired as to how much the taxi was going to cost them by writing a message on the phone. I was handed the phone and read the message: ‘What cost the taxi with you? $ total’. Assuming (and making a total ass out of u and me) that this message was for the driver, I helpfully made a few changes to the question so that it was in slightly more perfect English and started to hear sniggering behind me. Embarrassedly, the Spaniard who’d written it said, “No, answer please”. Mortified that I’d just shown up his English rather than helping him, I confirmed the price with Henny and sat in silence for the rest of the trip, not wanting to give in to my British need to apologise, as that would probably only make it worse (he probably thought nothing of it) but also wanting to apologise profusely for insulting his English ability. Torn, I decided to play it cool and just stared out at the Vegas-style neon hotels as we passed through Danang along the coastal road.

Once we arrived at our hotel, tired and vaguely hungry, it was 11 o’clock in the evening and Hoi An was as lively as an old people’s home. We checked in, got our welcome drinks and some coconut biscuits, which had to suffice. Our room was nice and big again with a view over the pool. We put another couple of episodes of the Inbetweeners on, polished off some cashew nuts from the minibar and went to sleep.

The next day we had another big breakfast, including what they called a ‘full English’, which was ok, but the beans were cold. We then decided to go and have a dip in the pool, where some Asian children were laughing and splashing. We happily did a couple of lengths (the slightly longer pool meant that I could only just get end-to-end underwater) then, following a mucosal outburst of coughing from one of the splashing kids, we went up to finish our blog posts about HCMC and I did a very quick German to English translation for Georgina at Living English. We suddenly realised that the only free bus ride to the town (about 10 minutes on an electric bus) was about to leave in 5 minutes, so we hastily got dressed and scrambled out of the room, camera in hand, to head to Hoi An old town.

Beautiful small yellow-washed houses with little black roofs make up the small UNESCO world heritage site of Hoi An. Unfortunately, they are surrounded by tourists from all over the world and locals on bikes and scooters who all come to haggle, shout and get in the way of each other at every possible moment while classical music blares from speakers tactically placed to try and alleviate some of the stress. After the initial annoyance at having to fight through the throng to get to a coffee shop (via a few of the shops selling souvenirs, including film-inspired drinks coasters), we sat down and ordered some of the local coffee specialities, a Vietnamese filter coffee (with condensed milk) for Henny and an egg coffee for me (made with fluffed egg yolks and condensed milk), both of which were rich, dark and, in my case, like a cappuccino made with the creamiest froth ever. Whilst enjoying these exotic delicacies, Henny booked us an appointment at another cat café, which operated more like a cat rescue centre, which we headed to after some expert map reading on my part.

We missed the house at first. It was an unassuming high metal gate with a small A4 paper sign saying ‘Jack’s cat café’ in faded and rain-stained ink. We rang the wrong doorbell at first, then the right one, and a young Italian woman (who also spoke German, we found out later) let us in and asked us to take our shoes off before showing us to a table. I ordered a beer (Don’t judge me – I’m on holiday!) and Henny a coconut shake, and we read about the beginnings of Jack’s café. It had all started with a street cat, called Jack, who turned out to be pregnant and was taken in by the owners of the café. After giving birth to her litter and a few months of happy meowing, Jack went missing, presumed stolen by someone wanting to make some money on the black market for cat and dog meat. The owners, heartbroken, decided to change the lives of many more cats and opened their sanctuary, where they now live with volunteers and two rather rotund dogs called Boomer and Ruby. Armed with this knowledge and the want to do good, we went to stroke some cats.

Entertaining the locals

Playing with the young’uns

A doze of cats

‘Superior brain size’

Inside a little covered patio, some kittens were playing with other guests, so we joined in. After a while (and a few needle-like paw scratches), I started making friends with Ruby. She reminded me of a chubbier version of Mr G’s Celine from the Australian series Summer Heights High. She loved being stroked and, on the rare occasion that I stopped, she would place a pleading paw on my arm, begging for the love to continue, as it did for the majority of the 90-minute visiting time we had. It was just like me to go to a sanctuary for former street cats and end up making friends with a tubby dog.

Eventually, we had to say goodbye and I had to tear myself away from Ruby. We took a slightly different route back to the bus pickup point, along a quieter back street, then onto the bus to dive back, beeping and whirring, to the hotel. Once there, I finished my translation and sent it off, while Henny continued struggling through her writer’s block for her blog post and booked us a place on a cooking course for the next day. Once this was done, I finally showered, and we headed back to the city for the evening at 8pm. Just as well we did, as everything began to shut down rather quickly. We headed through the lantern-lit streets, over the bridge and into a shiny restaurant where ate some local specialties �� Cau Lao (lye-dipped noodles with beef, veg and crispy rice cakes) and chicken with spicy rice for me.

By this time, it was getting a bit late (about 10 o’clock) and things around us, even on the touristy street, started closing, so we decided to get an Uber home. Or we wanted to, having placed the order for the Uber on the app, and waiting for them to find a driver to take us. And again we waited. We had a sneaky peak of where the nearest driver was and found that they were halfway between Hoi An and Danang, driving slowly in circles, helping nobody. Deciding to use our beautiful pins, we walked through the back streets of Hoi An, past some woofy dogs, some men gathered around a board on the ground and jabbering excitedly (I couldn’t tell what it was, just that it was probably something that they shouldn’t have been doing), and a homestay called Hoi An field. I could only imagine it was a B ‘n’ B for permed, moustachioed Liverpool fans á la Harry Enfield.

The next day, we were halfway through breakfast (I’d had some Cau Lao and was munching my way through the first of two slices of peanut butter-spread toast) and the bus arrived to take us to the Thuan Tinh cooking course. Luckily, toast is portable (unlike Cau Lao) and nobody had a peanut allergy, so I brought it with me. We picked up a few more culinary-skill-seeking souls from various hotels and were brought to a café somewhere, where we met our guide and chef for the day, Trang, who can’t have been out of her mid-20s for long but had a very respectable grip of the English language, her one major flaw being her mispronunciation of ‘sour’ as ‘shower’. I dread to think of what she would have made of my Vietnamese, so we stuck to English. In our group of eight were Henny and me, four French-Swiss (or is that Swiss-French? In my sleep-deprived state, ‘Swiss’ doesn’t look like a word either – maybe it’s time for a nap), and a lovely older couple of Aussies called Mike and Jane, who’d retired 17 years ago from their Great Barrier Reef tourism business and had been travelling the world ever since.

Trang took us around the market, explaining what each of the herbs and ingredients we were buying would be used for. In my basket, I carried a pineapple (green at the top and yellow at the bottom, meaning it wasn’t too sweet but not unripe – just in that Goldilocks zone) and the all-important red and green chilis. Henny, on the other hand, got a bundle of Vietnamese coriander (flat-leafed, rather than scalloped like normal coriander), some Asian basil (lovely and citrus-y) and some very small, very tart (‘shower’) kumquats. We walked past stalls of live fish and prawns, tuna halves (and heads) and a fly-infested meat hall. Old ladies packed bags of Romana lettuce while smoking ash-dripping cigarettes without a thought for the end user (it’d hopefully be washed anyway) and tourists were trapped into taking photos with the market sellers for a couple of 10,000 dong notes.

After a quick demonstration of a multi-purpose slicing tool, which we were to receive as a present later, we were ushered onto a boat and taken on a leisurely, If a little loud, ride along the river. After a shot minibus journey to a causeway where they were harvesting and drying the reeds, we got on another (smaller) rowing boat and were taken along a reed-lined river to our kitchen underneath a great big thatched roof.

Here, we watched in wonder as Trang prepared some tasty treats, then tried (a little cack-handedly) to follow her instructions dish-by-dish to make our own. We made Goi Cuon, otherwise known as summer rolls or fresh spring rolls (the paper kept sticking to my hand and my peanut sauce was a little watery); Banh Xeo, a rice pancake with pork and prawns, eaten rolled up with a chili and fish-sauce sauce (I managed to flip mine first time – all those years of Shrove Tuesday practice finally paid off); Bun Bo Nam Bo, a flambéed beef and noodle salad (was very happy with my first flambé attempt, hoping to practice again soon); and phinally our Pho (pronounced like you’re trying to get a hair out of your mouth – ‘fuh’). Suddenly, we’d eaten everything and it was time to go home.

Bun bo nam bo with a cucumber crocodile at the top

Boulders’ Summer roll

The Vietnamese pancake

Henny’s mad kitchen skillz

We were dropped off at our hotel and I went to the gym while Henny had a skype date with Mara, one of her bessie mates from home. Yes, dear readers, I went to the gym. Cross-trainer, free weights and spinning bike, if you must know. I sweated a great deal. Yum. Having lost an Olympic swimming pool’s worth of water weight, I returned to the room, showered, and got dressed and donned my England rugby shirt once more for the Scotland game. After a couple of hours of chilling at the pool and finding out that all the overnight trains to Ho Chi Minh were booked out, meaning we’d have to take a 22 hour bus journey (the very same that we’re now on, dear readers), we went out, had a very pleasing dinner of Bun Chá (pork meatballs with broth, veg and rice) and Won Ton and headed over to the Three Dragons pub for the Ireland/Wales game and then the Scotland/England game. The less I say about the outcome of the match, the better, I think. I just hope we can give the Irish a run for their money on the last weekend, if they haven’t already won it by then.

Whilst I was somewhat tipsily congratulating some Scottish fans on their well-earned win, Henny had paid the bill and we headed outside, where, somehow, we ended up on the back of some random guy’s scooter and flying back to our hotel. After a brief scrabble for change, we stumbled through the lobby and into bed.

The next day began hot and hungover. We pretty much scrabbled to get to the remnants of breakfast and, after negotiating another night at the hotel, spent some time getting rid of our headaches by sleeping and/or swimming at the pool again. After having achieved nothing all day, we decided to go for a walk (Henny) or a cycle (Will) to see what we could see. I found myself just cycling along the same road for a long time, until I came to a little touristy harbour, where I flatly ignored the locals’ imploring that I should rent a small round boat (where would I put the bike?!) and go on a coconut forest exploration trip or buy a mango or coconut. Having practiced different ways to say ‘no’ graciously, and taken some lovely photos, I rang my bike bell back through the throng of tourists and turned right at a junction, which took me up to the other side of Hoi An, near the beach. Here, they seemed to be building another town – they’d flattened whole swathes of marshland to make way for hotels. Progress eh? I then followed the same road round and, feeling a tad peckish, picked up a Banh Mi to munch on the western extreme of Hoi An. After a quick glance at the time, which told me I was going to be late to meet Henny at the hotel, I wove my way through the foot-traffic at the river’s edge and used a local café’s wifi to tell her to meet me at the bus drop-off point. We found a nice riverside restaurant to eat at and leave my bike at while we went to check out the night market, where Henny finally found some gifts for her au pair girls and we tried some of the market food – the highlight of which was Henny’s choice of a coconut and chocolate grilled cake. I cycled back and Henny managed to get the last electric bus back.

The next day, after our last breakfast, Henny did another shave of my head (the man bun is coming on quite nicely) and, after a shower, we cycled out to the town to get some more pressies for the Aussies, where my excellent navigational skills allowed us to find the shop we wanted without any hassle. After venturing out to get some snacks and water for our long coach journey (I found some Ritz biscuits – heavenly but SO bad for you), we tried to get back to our bikes, only to be stopped by a woman wearing a badge saying ‘ticket inspector’. Not realising we needed tickets to return to our bikes, and running low on dong, we made our excuses and went a different way into the town, where nobody wearing a ‘ticket inspector’ badge could harass us and got our bikes. We went back to the hotel, collected our bags and got the electric bus back to the town, where we got an Uber from the drop-off point to the bus office, where we made friends with a nice Dutch girl who seemed a little overawed at the situation.

After getting on our bus, we made our way overnight to Nha Trang, where we waited for our bus to Saigon (that’s what it says on the ticket) and where I am now, passing along a seaside road, where the white waves are breaking pleasingly on the shore to my left and a large orange desert seems to be off to my right-hand side. Henny is snoozing gently and my legs are going numb from balancing Big Blue (the bag) on them. I’m going to leave you here while I adjust my position. Until next time, my faithful few, when we’re off to Melbourne via Singapore. I’m very excited.

Yours pins-and-needlesly,

Boulders

Oi oi! Hoi An! There isn’t really enough space to get comfortable in my bunk on this double-bunk sleeper bus. Each of the 35 travellers has their own bed, with two rows on the sides next to the windows and a central row, which is where I’m sitting.

[culinaryinquisitor-blog]

How to stand out in the oversaturated...

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How to stand out in the oversaturated...

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The casual dining market may be a victim of its own success. In a market where multiple operators offer a similar product to hungry diners, what makes one stand out above the rest? Richard McComb looks at how you can go the extra mile

If the trend-watchers are correct, restaurants will be targeting rum-quaffing vegans eating gold-leaf cakes and sustainable edible flowers in 2018, while chefs will be looking for something to replace kale and kimchi in this multibillion-pound business.

Market expansion, the diversification of eating styles, and changes in food delivery and payment methods have taken place at a breakneck pace. The average Briton is estimated to spend £44 a week on eating out. While that rate of growth is expected to slow in the next 12 months, in financial terms if not in innovation, balance sheets are expected to make pleasant reading for canny operators.

Brand visibility and an unerring commitment to customer service will be key for successful operators, according to Susan Chappell, divisional director/executive committee at restaurant and pub operator Mitchells & Butlers. “In a challenging marketplace, staying relevant to your guests is imperative. In a world where offers are constantly evolving, if you fall behind you soon disappear,” says Chappell, who has responsibility for All Bar One, Browns, Nicholson’s and the Castle pub portfolio.

“We need to take drink as seriously as food, as we are seeing a return to the drink occasion. Give guests difference in their drinks as well as their foods,” she says.

Set your menu free

Chappell will be a key speaker at the Casual Dining 2018 trade event at the Business Design Centre, London, 21-22 February. She highlights the importance of the “guest experience”, arguing that loyalty is effectively obsolete in a wide-ranging market. She adds: “The rise of health, vegetarian, vegan and free-from foods is incredibly important, and no menu will survive without a good dollop of all of them.”

This is a message echoed by a large number of operators contacted by The Caterer, including Tom Aikens, chef and operator of the Tom’s Kitchen brand. “Health-conscious diners will seek out options that cater to their individual diet and ethical choices in 2018,” says Aikens.

Tom Aikens

“We’ve seen this first hand at Tom’s Kitchen, and we have had a lot of fun increasing the free-from options on our menu. Customers are turning away from the quick-service, carb-heavy menus of the super-chain restaurant and are looking for a casual-dining experience that relies upon fresh, seasonal ingredients and that celebrates traceable produce.

“There will still be a need for quick-service dining, but restaurants will be required to provide a social responsibility. They need to show a passion for ingredients, as well as connecting their guests to their suppliers through showcase events and tastings.”

Baked celeriac with smoked butter and hazelnuts

Sophie Bathgate and Rupert Power’s newly opened Sophie’s on Great Windmill Street in Soho incorporates a 125-cover restaurant and bar as well as a 120-cover steakhouse. Where the original Sophie’s concept concentrated on classic cuts of meat, the new site reflects changing appetites for flexitarian dining. An equal emphasis is now placed on vegetables and fish, with dishes such as seared scallop, black garlic butter and crispy capers, and baked celeriac with smoked butter and hazelnuts, all cooked over an open-fire “infiernillo” grill.

Rupert Power and Sophie Bathgate

Global flavours

Bidfood expects restaurants to offer a mix of traditional Middle Eastern ingredients fused with well-known Western dishes. Its New 4 You innovations guide features products such as Lion Middle Eastern hot sauce, hummus mayonnaise, and tahini and harissa paste, which work as marinades, dips and toppings.

“We all know that little touches go a long way and Bidfood provides a range of catering equipment to help give menu presentation an authentic feel, such as tapas dishes, terracotta tagines and stonecast plates,” says Lucy Pedrick, insights manager at Bidfood.

She also points to the growing popularity of Modern European cuisine, with diners seeking out flavours across Scandinavia and the Balkans, through to the Mediterranean.

“Bring food back to basics by serving up home-grown meat, shoreline fish and fresh vegetables – for example, pork and potato dumplings with fresh dill or chives,” she says.

Food by design

Bricks and mortar – specifically restaurant fit-outs – are increasingly important, with the design of venues playing on diners’ sense of place, comfort and aspiration. Sticks’n’Sushi, which delivers a trendy Nordic spin on Japanese cuisine, opened its fifth London restaurant, in Victoria, at the end of 2017 and plans further openings in Soho and Chelsea in 2018. It also has restaurants in Oxford and Cambridge.

Andreas Karlsson, Sticks’n’Sushi chief operating officer, says the group is “humbly confident” in its product, so the F&B offer varies little from country to country (there are 12 branches in Copenhagen). “We differentiate ourselves in the design, with every restaurant offering its own discrete experience,” he says. “We pay a lot of respect to both the area and the people working and living there, and we also incorporate any notable features already in the space into the new design.”

At Victoria, the interior recalls monastic cloisters, with a free-standing arched canopy spanning the top floor. “Being in a brand-new building, it would have been easy to create a ‘glass box’, but instead we have made it an oasis from the city outside, with warm clay surfaces and the comforting embrace of the canopied space upstairs,” says Karlsson.

Sticks’n’Sushi Victoria

The design for Oxford is inspired by the university’s libraries and dining halls, with long tables reminiscent of mess tables. In response to requests from diners, Victoria and Oxford offer private dining for 16 and 18 respectively.

Karlsson adds: “The Danish philosophy of ‘merydelser’ – which translates roughly as ‘going the extra mile’ – informs our customer service. We put the guest at the heart of everything we do and ask ourselves, what will make their visit better, happier, more memorable? Then we do our utmost to deliver that unique experience.”

A taste for retro

Street food operator Kerb, which runs six markets in London, predicts further demand for one-off, handmade dishes, “filled with the heart, soul and personality” of traders. Such has been the impact of street food on mainstream casual dining that restaurants will be watching developments closely.

Alison O’Reilly, Kerb head of marketing, says: “We expect to see more regional Asian foods and a return of retro favourites, like pop tarts, smores [cookies, chocolate and marshmallows] and soft-serve ice-cream. We think people will continue to seek out healthy options, like plant-based alternatives, sustainable sourcing, super powders or root-to-stem eating.”

Social media continues to drive business, particularly among millennial audiences. At the health and design-conscious Love Thy Neighbour restaurants in Liverpool and Manchester, whose vibe is described as LA-cum-Ibiza, teams post live Q&As and vlogs to engage and inform about the latest in nutrition.

In a marketplace where authenticity is vital, is there any place for large-scale food manufacturers, then? McCain thinks so. The Beefy Boys, set up by former backyard cooks turned restaurateurs, opened its first outpost in Hereford. It uses McCain Fries and sees the product as compatible with its values.

Anthony Murphy of the Beefy Boys says: “They cook up fantastically, they look rustic with a little a bit of skin on them, and they are by far the best that we came across.

“You can get a burger in every pub, so you need to find an edge. That applies to our fries, too. We do sell plain fries, but we also have topped and seasoned options. We have people coming in just for the fries.”

The Beefy Boys

Drink it in

The buzz in restaurant drinks may have been dominated by craft beers and artisan spirits, but operators are missing a trick by failing to refresh their wine lists. Gerald Chislett, national account manager at Hallgarten Wines, points out that consumers who drink wine at casual-dining brands spend 21% more on average than those who do not.

Chislett believes consumers will look to “premiumise” and spend more if the wine is right. He says: “The emotional levers we are seeing in consumers affect the way we look at supplying wine to casual dining brands. We have to put ourselves in the customer’s shoes, look at the psychology and ask ourselves why customers would buy a specific product.”

One-stop shop

Hotels are also looking to reclaim territory lost to the high-street casual-dining market – by playing their rivals at their own game. Euan McGlashan, co-founder and managing partner of Valor Hospitality Partners, says: “We’d seen guests leave hotels to eat at restaurants nearby. We knew hotel dining venues had the potential to compete, but the sector seemed to have a lacklustre attitude to making it happen.”

Valor set up an F&B team to implement dining concepts in response to consumer demand for casual, quality hotel restaurants and bars, such as Store Street Exchange at DoubleTree by Hilton, Manchester. “On one Saturday night, it served 120 people, with around 85% of diners coming from outside the hotel,” McGlashan says. “It’s evidence that hotel F&B concepts can satisfy hotel guests and succeed alongside a competitive high-street market.”

Suppliers

Bidfood www.bidfood.co.uk

Casual Dining Show www.casualdiningshow.co.uk

Hallgarten Wines www.hdnwines.co.uk

McCain www.mccainfoodservice.co.uk

Sticks’n’Sushi www.sticksnsushi.co.uk

Valor Hospitality Partners www.valorhospitality.com

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[almondmarketingagency-blog]

Flexible Working in The City - Serviced Offices in St Mary Axe

Deciding where to base your business is not always an easy task.

A whole host of factors need to be considered, some of which may not be immediately premeditated. From crazy golf to champagne at The Gherkin, here we take a look at (a far from exhaustive) list of the many benefits of choosing serviced offices in St Mary Axe.

Why choose serviced offices in St Mary Axe? - Location

The highlight of having serviced offices in St Mary Axe is definitely the location. 30 St Mary Axe (aka The Gherkin) is at the heart of London’s modern financial district. It was designed by Norman Foster for the global reinsurance company Swiss Re who had the building commissioned for them as the head office for their UK operation. Many financial service companies have also moved into 30 St Mary Axe, such as Pearson Jones and Scottish Mutual Pep & ISA Managers Limited. Being just a stone’s throw away from St Paul’s and Bank, there are also serviced offices in the Leadenhall Street area near Lloyds of London, as well as serviced offices in Bevis Marks with clients the likes of IPS Group ltd. These are examples of the many financial companies based in the area.

Away from Canary Wharf, The City is the top location for insurance and other financial related services companies such as Aviva plc. This district has become accustomed to some iconic modern buildings such as 20 Fenchurch Street (aka The Walkie Talkie) and 122 Leadenhall Street (aka The Cheese Grater). As a prestigious address, St Mary Axe has attracted investors from overseas to buy into the area with The Gherkin being sold to a Brazilian Billionaire for £700m in 2014 and the more recent sale of the Walkie Talkie in 2017 for a staggering £1.3bn to a firm based in Hong Kong. The area is in high demand and has several new buildings due for completion in the next couple of years. If you want to find out more on who owns London, read our blog on “Who owns London’s Iconic Landmarks?”

Why choose serviced offices in St Mary Axe? - Central Location

Perhaps one of the most important factors in determining where to base your business is ensuring it is located in an accessible area for both your employees and your clients. Serviced offices in St Mary Axe are at the heart of The City of London, providing great transport links from in and around the capital. There are a whopping 9 stations, with 7 different underground lines, and national rail at your disposal. From the closest (5 minute walk) to the farthest (10 minute walk) these stations include Aldgate, Fenchurch Street, Liverpool Street, Bank/Monument, Aldgate East, Tower Hill, Moorgate and Cannon Street, with a further 4 stations a very short bus ride away. One of London’s top visitor sites, London Town provides a greatly detailed description on how to get to your serviced offices in St Mary Axe.

Why choose serviced offices in St Mary Axe? - Dining

Ensuring you have a place to take your clients to wine and dine is at the top of the list for most businesses, and having serviced offices in St Mary Axe is the perfect location to do this. Most serviced offices house their own coffee shop or kitchen, however, should you wish to stretch your legs or take your staff out for some team bonding, St Mary Axe is surrounded by an array of establishments catering for everyone. From Searcy’s at The Gherkin to spices down Brick Lane, the world famous Tripadvisor presents a detailed look at what is available and why choosing serviced offices in St Mary Axe caters to all your dining needs!

Why choose serviced offices in St Mary Axe? - Shopping

Famous for housing The Gherkin, St Mary Axe is at the heart of one of London’s business hubs, surrounded by an array of bars, pubs and restaurants. What is not always considered, is the proximity to which having serviced offices in St Mary Axe are to some famous shopping locations. These include Old Spitalfields Market and Leadenhall Market, both of which host an assortment of retailers as well as traditional food market stalls for meat, fish and dairy. One of London’s top visitors site London Town provides an extensive list of the shops and markets that can be found nearby

Why choose serviced offices in St Mary Axe? - Entertainment

Having serviced offices in St Mary Axe provides you with an array of activities that only true Londoner’s will know of. One such activity is the selection of two crazy golf establishments - Swingers, located right next to The Gherkin, and Junkyard Golf down Brick Lane. This provides fantastic opportunity to host team bonding sessions or perhaps even entertain clients should they *ahem* swing that way. However should you prefer something more private, there is an exclusive crazy golf course on the roof of one of the serviced offices in St Mary Axe!

These new buildings due for completion will continue to extend The City’s reach, with views which 10 - 20 years ago only big corporations could ask for.

Nowadays, these spaces and all the perks that come with them-including the prestigious address and views are available to everyone. Serviced offices in St Mary Axe and the surrounding areas offer leases for co-working space, catering for one person start-ups to 10+ people businesses. Take for example The Shard, licenses start at around £1000 per desk per month, proving that you can have an office in a landmark building with a view second to none in London. Demand for coworking space is on the rise thanks to their ability to provide greater productivity through high morale and employee flexibility. Serviced office providers also have floors in the iconic buildings mentioned above such as 20 Fenchurch Street and 122 Leadenhall Street.

To gain exclusive access to these serviced offices, get in touch with Office Experts for a free consultative chat and find your next office space today!

[jennysimmons8272-blog]

One of his customers was training for the Houston Marathon.

The rest of their income, which they describe as “middle-class”, comes from sales of their self-published book of photos and stories, as well as real-estate photography for marketing brochures and manual labour. At Denali National Park & Preserve, park ranger Anna Moore has witnessed warming affect wildlife across only a couple of years. Alexandre Lacazette and Aaron Ramsey increased the agony for Koeman and Everton with goals in the final 16 minutes. Liverpool had more of the ball, Spurs took their chances. Instead, farmers and shepherds cultivated their wheat fields and herds of lambs and cows far inland, thus developing a cuisine that largely relied on meat and not fish. When Tom Davies replaced Ashley Williams at half-time, it was the ninth time in 17 games this season that Koeman has made a substitution at the interval. "Id had traditional cameras since I was six or so and I enjoyed using them. Gazumping - when a seller accepts a higher offer from a new buyer, having previously accepted a lower offer - is among the most contentious of house-buying practices. (Credit: Idle Theory Bus) The crisis in 300 words Comes to nothing. “In fact, I didnt think [it was] enough. Most of them had brought arms, and many brought women. Hamilton really happy before potential US GP decider Profile: Robert Mugabe It was the year Australia went to war in the Gulf, when Monica Seles and Boris Becker won tennis grand slams in Melbourne, and The Simpsons was first shown on Aussie television, while a swooning Bryan Adams was a hit with love-struck teenagers ("Look into your heart, baby"). Article Reactions How climate change will transform business Wim WendersImage copyright GETTY The US-led coalition says it tried to minimise risks to civilians. What impact, if any, the typhoon had on turnout remains to be seen.

[samanthasroberts]

‘It’s flavourful as hell’: welcome to Hawaii’s annual Spam festival

In Britain its a joke. In Hawaii its a delicacy. Why does the luncheon meat have such a cult following?

Not even the drizzle can deter the crowds unspooling along Hawaiis Waikiki Beach. As late April showers fall upon Kalakaua Avenue, the roads are lined three-deep with sunburned tourists, surfer bros and silver-haired pensioners. Their colourful T-shirts, flower garlands and fancy dress costumes are soaked by rain, but eagerly they wait. Suddenly, a chorus of tiny ukuleles starts to play. The procession begins. Are they waiting to pay homage to a visiting dignitary or religious leader? No. Theyre here to celebrate Hawaiis favourite food: the immortal luncheon meat called Spam.

I join snaking queues for seemingly endless food stalls, each dish more absurd than the last: Spam pizza, Spam fried rice, Spam crackers, Spam pho, deep-fried mac and cheese bites (with Spam) and, of course, Spam fritters. I spot some Spam-infused macadamia nuts, and a slab of grilled Spam atop sticky rice, doused in soy and bound with seaweed: Spam sushi. Theres even Spam dipped in chocolate.

Serious Spam fans are focused on buying up rare flavours such as Spam Mezclita, Spam Tocino and Spam Portuguese Sausage. Others snap selfies beneath a giant arch of Spam cans, or gawp at a catamaran festooned with Spam tins. Kids try their luck at the Spam wheel of fortune, hoping to take home a branded T-shirt or headphones. I stumble into a king-sized Spam can made of foam, with human arms and legs sticking out. Inside is Honolulu Foodbank employee John Valdez. What would Hawaii be without Spam? he shouts through the costume. It would be boring!

Welcome to Spam Jam, the largest gathering of tinned pork enthusiasts on Earth. Today, I am one of 20,000 fans at the 15th annual event. The residents of Americas 50th state eat more Spam per capita than anywhere on earth, with Hawaiian steak found on five-star restaurant menus and at McDonalds. Last year, 8m cans were sold here and thats just the regular-sized ones, not counting Spam Singles, Spam Spread or smaller tins. But its not just Hawaii that adores Spam: in time for Spams 80th birthday on 5 July, global can sales topped 8bn.

Cans of Spam on display at the Spam Jam. Photograph: Marco Garcia for the Guardian

In Britain, Spam is derided as fish bait, furniture varnish or gun grease; there have long been rumours that it contains pigs lips, snouts, trotters and tail. In fact, it lists just a half-dozen ingredients: pork with ham (Two cuts of the pig. One perfectly tender and juicy flavour), water, salt, sugar, potato starch and sodium nitrite. Spams makers are keen to point out that theres no hidden scrapings or useless bits of pork, and that its all from the shoulder or rear. In fact, at 90% pork, Spam rivals some luxury sausages. Yet in the UK its reputation is up there with Turkey Twizzlers, while its high salt and fat content make it the kind of processed food we now avoid for our health. If Spam is known in Britain as a culinary punchline, why is it so popular across the Atlantic?

In Austin, Minnesota, population 24,716, all roads lead to Spam. Spamtown USA, as it is sometimes known, is a cutesy, model version of a city, all straight lines and artificial lakes. It was here in 1891 that George A Hormel founded a family meatpacking firm that would one day become a Fortune 500 mainstay, employing one in six of Austins inhabitants. Hormels got his feet sticking out the window again, schoolchildren used to say, when the porky odour floated out factory doors.

Georges son, Jay Hormel, was a born opportunist: as a child, hed pay two cents for housewives unwanted sink grease, then hawk it to his fathers soap-making divisionfor twice the price. In 1929, he succeeded George as president and soon came up with a way to make use of rarely butchered pork shoulder meat. He adapted a Napoleonic food preservation technique, adding salt and sodium nitrite to keep it pink and ward off botulism, and at the same time making it indefinitely edible. By 1942, Hormel Foods was selling $120m- worth of Spam a year.

Anne and Mark I Love Spam Benson are in town to marry at the local Spam museum. Photograph: Marco Garcia for the Guardian

Hormel-owned structures still dominate Austins skyline. Theres the stinky plant, rolling office blocks and the Hormel Institute, a biomedical research centre. The apex of the citys microscopic tourist industry is a newly revamped Spam museum, an Ikea-coloured time capsule of social, military and pop culture history. With Spam print beanbags, touch-sensitive screens and a jungle gym, the museum is aimed at the meat lovers of tomorrow, but when I visit it is also packed with elderly locals and Mormon missionaries. Inside, a bespectacled tour guide finds everything Spamazing, including a production line of cans that whizz overhead like Scalextric.

It is the meat that won the war, my guide cheerily informs me. During the second world war, allied soldiers consumed 68,000 tonnes of Spam, but Jay Hormel was devastated by the hate mail he received. The language people use! he told the New Yorker in 1945. If they think Spam is terrible, they ought to have eaten the bully beef we had in the last war. Hormel died in 1954, before President Eisenhower sent a letter with a personal pardon. I ate my share of Spam Ill even confess to a few unkind remarks about it, he wrote, on the firms 75th anniversary in business. But as former commander-in-chief, I believe I can still officially forgive you your only sin: sending us so much of it.

Spam couture. Photograph: Marco Garcia for the Guardian

Today, the Spam museum is hosting its first wedding. Tying the knot are an eccentric British couple, Anne Mousley, 33, and Mark Benson, 42. A smiley care worker from Liverpool, Benson recently changed his middle name by deed poll to I Love Spam.His grandfather worked in Liverpools Spam factory after the war. No prizes for guessing the wedding buffet. Its like nothing else, says Benson of his favourite food, which he eats at least twice a week. Bit of a bacon flavour, bit of a porky flavour. Its totally unique. Spam aficionados of such calibre are rare, although I do learn of one Nebraskan man who in 2007 survived a 30-day Spam-only eating challenge.

Meanwhile, in South Korea, second only to America for Spam consumption, profits are booming. During the lunar new year, Spam is given as a gift, and budae jjigae, a Spam-infused army stew from the second world war, remains popular.

I learn that island territories such as Guam and Micronesia see Spam as a life-saver. During extreme weather, Spams limitless shelf life makes it a Pacific Islanders best friend. Later, I speak to a wild-haired Spam celebrity in rural Alaska, known as Mr Whitekeys. For 26 years, he ran a Spam-themed bar, complete with frequent Spammer cards buy 10 meals, get one free. If you want meat, you gotta have Spam, he says via Skype. Why? You cant get fresh supplies in large amounts, and half the time you dont have refrigeration.

Back in sunny Hawaii, breakfast beers are noisily slammed on a plastic folding table. Three miles from Waikiki Beach, I am mingling with professional chefs at the esteemed Kakaako farmers market, surrounded by organic produce and artisanal pasta. Keen to know what islanders really think of Spam, I talk to chef Mark Gooch Noguchi, 43, who runs the Pili Group, a culinary movement based around healthy, sustainable food. The opposite, one would assume, of Spam.

Spam-based dishes on display at Spam Jam 2017. Photograph: Marco Garcia for the Guardian

But I love, love, love Spam, Noguchi tells me, unprompted, between swigs of beer, dressed in shorts, flip-flops and a loud flowery shirt. We grew up on it, he explains, passing me a pan-fresh beef taco. I remember when I was cooking in New York, other chefs would joke with me, like, Ha, you guys eat Spam, he says. But our parents had gone through the second world war. The big joke among local people is that if you visit your grandparents and look downstairs, theres six cases of toilet paper, four cases of paper towels and three cases of Spam. In Hawaii, Spam is the cement that bonds its many cultures from Japanese, Filipino and Hawaiian native, through to mainland United States. Noguchi proudly boasts that locals can tell Spam from its canned-pork competitors Tulip and Treet. Elsewhere, Spam is slowly being appropriated by hipster culture, just like scotch eggs and avocado before it. Its both an indulgence of nostalgia and two fingers up to eating clean. In Londons Soho, Jinjuu restaurant makes a Spamarita cocktail, mixing Spam-infused Ocho tequila with mezcal, pineapple, citrus, mandarin orange and agave nectar. And Saint Marc, an upscale restaurant in Huntington Beach, California, has a hidden Spam speakeasy known as the Blind Pig.

Flipping Spam burgers. Photograph: Marco Garcia for the Guardian

Its revered, man, says Nina Pullella, 36, a chef I meet at Kakaako market. I think its the challenge of taking a can off the shelf this strange food from the second world war and doing something spectacular. Pullella is a vegan, from New Jersey via Italy, yet she still oozes praise for Spam as an ingredient (Its flavourful as hell, right?). After three hours at the market, I find just one person down on Spam. And she wont talk on record. Are you kidding? Ill have the whole island on my back, she whispers.

Night falls on Waikiki Beach. As the raindrops evaporate, a female rock band loudly tests the suspension of a flatbed stage. There is a snaking queue for OnoPops, an ice-cream company that flogs a Spam-based popsicle. Its a heartstrings thing, explains owner Josh Lanthier-Welch, 46, a stout man with a goatee. Though a Spam devotee, he warns of the dangers of excess: The Spam musubi [sushi] is a symbol of whats wrong with the local diet. It is so beloved, but living on Spam, white rice and nori will kill you.

As the festival comes to a close, I decide to break my 20-plus years of Spam abstinence (I havent touched the stuff since childhood). Im handed a skewer of cold cubed Spam and crunchy vegetables. I sink my teeth into the soft meat, and am transported back to my youth. The salty, pork-ish flavour wafts up my nostrils. I feel dirty and a little bit sick. Next I try a hot Spam katsu sandwich, from Hula Grill. I take a small bite. Then a larger one. It has a deep, smoky bacon flavour, offset by rich katsu sauce. It is, Im almost embarrassed to say, tremendous. Spam tempura fries, Spam corn dogs and Spam dim sum soon follow.

As I chew, I wonder if Spam deserves its reputation. Perhaps Brits just lack the imagination to cook Spam right. Or maybe, like KitKats in Japan or David Hasselhoffs mega-stardom in Germany, Spam should simply remain a pop culture anomaly the American Marmite that one either loves or hates.

Spam-flavoured macadamia nuts. Photograph: Marco Garcia for the Guardian

Spam fritters

Serves three.

340g Spam (ie, 1 can) 150g plain flour 225ml cold water 3 tbsp olive oil Buttered roll (optional) Cut the Spam lengthways into six thick slices. Put the flour in a mixing bowl and slowly introduce the water, whisking, until you have a smooth batter.

Heat the oil in a large frying pan. Dip each slice of Spam in the batter mix, shake to drain off any excess and lay in the hot pan. When its golden and crisp on one side, flip and repeat until its brown and crisp on both sides.

Serve in a buttered roll, if desired, with chips and peas on the side.

Source: http://allofbeer.com/2017/10/08/its-flavourful-as-hell-welcome-to-hawaiis-annual-spam-festival/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2017/10/08/its-flavourful-as-hell-welcome-to-hawaiis-annual-spam-festival/

[allofbeercom]

‘It’s flavourful as hell’: welcome to Hawaii’s annual Spam festival

In Britain its a joke. In Hawaii its a delicacy. Why does the luncheon meat have such a cult following?

Not even the drizzle can deter the crowds unspooling along Hawaiis Waikiki Beach. As late April showers fall upon Kalakaua Avenue, the roads are lined three-deep with sunburned tourists, surfer bros and silver-haired pensioners. Their colourful T-shirts, flower garlands and fancy dress costumes are soaked by rain, but eagerly they wait. Suddenly, a chorus of tiny ukuleles starts to play. The procession begins. Are they waiting to pay homage to a visiting dignitary or religious leader? No. Theyre here to celebrate Hawaiis favourite food: the immortal luncheon meat called Spam.

I join snaking queues for seemingly endless food stalls, each dish more absurd than the last: Spam pizza, Spam fried rice, Spam crackers, Spam pho, deep-fried mac and cheese bites (with Spam) and, of course, Spam fritters. I spot some Spam-infused macadamia nuts, and a slab of grilled Spam atop sticky rice, doused in soy and bound with seaweed: Spam sushi. Theres even Spam dipped in chocolate.

Serious Spam fans are focused on buying up rare flavours such as Spam Mezclita, Spam Tocino and Spam Portuguese Sausage. Others snap selfies beneath a giant arch of Spam cans, or gawp at a catamaran festooned with Spam tins. Kids try their luck at the Spam wheel of fortune, hoping to take home a branded T-shirt or headphones. I stumble into a king-sized Spam can made of foam, with human arms and legs sticking out. Inside is Honolulu Foodbank employee John Valdez. What would Hawaii be without Spam? he shouts through the costume. It would be boring!

Welcome to Spam Jam, the largest gathering of tinned pork enthusiasts on Earth. Today, I am one of 20,000 fans at the 15th annual event. The residents of Americas 50th state eat more Spam per capita than anywhere on earth, with Hawaiian steak found on five-star restaurant menus and at McDonalds. Last year, 8m cans were sold here and thats just the regular-sized ones, not counting Spam Singles, Spam Spread or smaller tins. But its not just Hawaii that adores Spam: in time for Spams 80th birthday on 5 July, global can sales topped 8bn.

Cans of Spam on display at the Spam Jam. Photograph: Marco Garcia for the Guardian

In Britain, Spam is derided as fish bait, furniture varnish or gun grease; there have long been rumours that it contains pigs lips, snouts, trotters and tail. In fact, it lists just a half-dozen ingredients: pork with ham (Two cuts of the pig. One perfectly tender and juicy flavour), water, salt, sugar, potato starch and sodium nitrite. Spams makers are keen to point out that theres no hidden scrapings or useless bits of pork, and that its all from the shoulder or rear. In fact, at 90% pork, Spam rivals some luxury sausages. Yet in the UK its reputation is up there with Turkey Twizzlers, while its high salt and fat content make it the kind of processed food we now avoid for our health. If Spam is known in Britain as a culinary punchline, why is it so popular across the Atlantic?

In Austin, Minnesota, population 24,716, all roads lead to Spam. Spamtown USA, as it is sometimes known, is a cutesy, model version of a city, all straight lines and artificial lakes. It was here in 1891 that George A Hormel founded a family meatpacking firm that would one day become a Fortune 500 mainstay, employing one in six of Austins inhabitants. Hormels got his feet sticking out the window again, schoolchildren used to say, when the porky odour floated out factory doors.

Georges son, Jay Hormel, was a born opportunist: as a child, hed pay two cents for housewives unwanted sink grease, then hawk it to his fathers soap-making divisionfor twice the price. In 1929, he succeeded George as president and soon came up with a way to make use of rarely butchered pork shoulder meat. He adapted a Napoleonic food preservation technique, adding salt and sodium nitrite to keep it pink and ward off botulism, and at the same time making it indefinitely edible. By 1942, Hormel Foods was selling $120m- worth of Spam a year.

Anne and Mark I Love Spam Benson are in town to marry at the local Spam museum. Photograph: Marco Garcia for the Guardian

Hormel-owned structures still dominate Austins skyline. Theres the stinky plant, rolling office blocks and the Hormel Institute, a biomedical research centre. The apex of the citys microscopic tourist industry is a newly revamped Spam museum, an Ikea-coloured time capsule of social, military and pop culture history. With Spam print beanbags, touch-sensitive screens and a jungle gym, the museum is aimed at the meat lovers of tomorrow, but when I visit it is also packed with elderly locals and Mormon missionaries. Inside, a bespectacled tour guide finds everything Spamazing, including a production line of cans that whizz overhead like Scalextric.

It is the meat that won the war, my guide cheerily informs me. During the second world war, allied soldiers consumed 68,000 tonnes of Spam, but Jay Hormel was devastated by the hate mail he received. The language people use! he told the New Yorker in 1945. If they think Spam is terrible, they ought to have eaten the bully beef we had in the last war. Hormel died in 1954, before President Eisenhower sent a letter with a personal pardon. I ate my share of Spam Ill even confess to a few unkind remarks about it, he wrote, on the firms 75th anniversary in business. But as former commander-in-chief, I believe I can still officially forgive you your only sin: sending us so much of it.

Spam couture. Photograph: Marco Garcia for the Guardian

Today, the Spam museum is hosting its first wedding. Tying the knot are an eccentric British couple, Anne Mousley, 33, and Mark Benson, 42. A smiley care worker from Liverpool, Benson recently changed his middle name by deed poll to I Love Spam.His grandfather worked in Liverpools Spam factory after the war. No prizes for guessing the wedding buffet. Its like nothing else, says Benson of his favourite food, which he eats at least twice a week. Bit of a bacon flavour, bit of a porky flavour. Its totally unique. Spam aficionados of such calibre are rare, although I do learn of one Nebraskan man who in 2007 survived a 30-day Spam-only eating challenge.

Meanwhile, in South Korea, second only to America for Spam consumption, profits are booming. During the lunar new year, Spam is given as a gift, and budae jjigae, a Spam-infused army stew from the second world war, remains popular.

I learn that island territories such as Guam and Micronesia see Spam as a life-saver. During extreme weather, Spams limitless shelf life makes it a Pacific Islanders best friend. Later, I speak to a wild-haired Spam celebrity in rural Alaska, known as Mr Whitekeys. For 26 years, he ran a Spam-themed bar, complete with frequent Spammer cards buy 10 meals, get one free. If you want meat, you gotta have Spam, he says via Skype. Why? You cant get fresh supplies in large amounts, and half the time you dont have refrigeration.

Back in sunny Hawaii, breakfast beers are noisily slammed on a plastic folding table. Three miles from Waikiki Beach, I am mingling with professional chefs at the esteemed Kakaako farmers market, surrounded by organic produce and artisanal pasta. Keen to know what islanders really think of Spam, I talk to chef Mark Gooch Noguchi, 43, who runs the Pili Group, a culinary movement based around healthy, sustainable food. The opposite, one would assume, of Spam.

Spam-based dishes on display at Spam Jam 2017. Photograph: Marco Garcia for the Guardian

But I love, love, love Spam, Noguchi tells me, unprompted, between swigs of beer, dressed in shorts, flip-flops and a loud flowery shirt. We grew up on it, he explains, passing me a pan-fresh beef taco. I remember when I was cooking in New York, other chefs would joke with me, like, Ha, you guys eat Spam, he says. But our parents had gone through the second world war. The big joke among local people is that if you visit your grandparents and look downstairs, theres six cases of toilet paper, four cases of paper towels and three cases of Spam. In Hawaii, Spam is the cement that bonds its many cultures from Japanese, Filipino and Hawaiian native, through to mainland United States. Noguchi proudly boasts that locals can tell Spam from its canned-pork competitors Tulip and Treet. Elsewhere, Spam is slowly being appropriated by hipster culture, just like scotch eggs and avocado before it. Its both an indulgence of nostalgia and two fingers up to eating clean. In Londons Soho, Jinjuu restaurant makes a Spamarita cocktail, mixing Spam-infused Ocho tequila with mezcal, pineapple, citrus, mandarin orange and agave nectar. And Saint Marc, an upscale restaurant in Huntington Beach, California, has a hidden Spam speakeasy known as the Blind Pig.

Flipping Spam burgers. Photograph: Marco Garcia for the Guardian

Its revered, man, says Nina Pullella, 36, a chef I meet at Kakaako market. I think its the challenge of taking a can off the shelf this strange food from the second world war and doing something spectacular. Pullella is a vegan, from New Jersey via Italy, yet she still oozes praise for Spam as an ingredient (Its flavourful as hell, right?). After three hours at the market, I find just one person down on Spam. And she wont talk on record. Are you kidding? Ill have the whole island on my back, she whispers.

Night falls on Waikiki Beach. As the raindrops evaporate, a female rock band loudly tests the suspension of a flatbed stage. There is a snaking queue for OnoPops, an ice-cream company that flogs a Spam-based popsicle. Its a heartstrings thing, explains owner Josh Lanthier-Welch, 46, a stout man with a goatee. Though a Spam devotee, he warns of the dangers of excess: The Spam musubi [sushi] is a symbol of whats wrong with the local diet. It is so beloved, but living on Spam, white rice and nori will kill you.

As the festival comes to a close, I decide to break my 20-plus years of Spam abstinence (I havent touched the stuff since childhood). Im handed a skewer of cold cubed Spam and crunchy vegetables. I sink my teeth into the soft meat, and am transported back to my youth. The salty, pork-ish flavour wafts up my nostrils. I feel dirty and a little bit sick. Next I try a hot Spam katsu sandwich, from Hula Grill. I take a small bite. Then a larger one. It has a deep, smoky bacon flavour, offset by rich katsu sauce. It is, Im almost embarrassed to say, tremendous. Spam tempura fries, Spam corn dogs and Spam dim sum soon follow.

As I chew, I wonder if Spam deserves its reputation. Perhaps Brits just lack the imagination to cook Spam right. Or maybe, like KitKats in Japan or David Hasselhoffs mega-stardom in Germany, Spam should simply remain a pop culture anomaly the American Marmite that one either loves or hates.

Spam-flavoured macadamia nuts. Photograph: Marco Garcia for the Guardian

Spam fritters

Serves three.

340g Spam (ie, 1 can) 150g plain flour 225ml cold water 3 tbsp olive oil Buttered roll (optional) Cut the Spam lengthways into six thick slices. Put the flour in a mixing bowl and slowly introduce the water, whisking, until you have a smooth batter.

Heat the oil in a large frying pan. Dip each slice of Spam in the batter mix, shake to drain off any excess and lay in the hot pan. When its golden and crisp on one side, flip and repeat until its brown and crisp on both sides.

Serve in a buttered roll, if desired, with chips and peas on the side.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/2017/10/08/its-flavourful-as-hell-welcome-to-hawaiis-annual-spam-festival/

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“When Did You Last Buy a Joint of Beef?”: East London Big Flame and the People’s Food Co-op

Just before Christmas in 1973 a small group of people living on the Lincoln Estate in Bow, East London, set up a food co-op. Their reason for doing so was simple: rising inflation and stagnating wages. Since the beginning of a Conservative rule in 1970, rent, food, and other consumables had been going up in price, whilst wages remained the same. In short, people had to spend an increasingly high proportion of the money they earned just to get by. They named their venture the People’s Food Co-op. It aimed to provide for everyone in need on the Estate and was run by the residents themselves.

Built in 1964, Lincoln Estate housed 2000 residents, and by the early 70s was in a dire state. The tower blocks were neglected and dirty, and there were virtually no facilities for those who lived there, such as a playground for children or a decent chemist. Often hot water and heating was faulty, and alongside the residents being dismayed that the estate was neglected by the off-site caretakers, there were also complaints that the estate’s architecture led to people feeling isolated.

When the co-op first started it was modelled like a market, setting itself up on the Estate’s green, where tables were set out and piled with food that was sold cheaply at wholesale price. Set against the dismal conditions of the estate, the sight of tables set out with food, and members of the co-op inviting those who walked by to join, was an odd thing to see. But such a sight enticed people to join up. As well as camping out by the estate, the People’s Food Co-op made flyers, pamphlets, and leaflets to garner interest. These were often pointed documents, asking their readers why they had to put up with the conditions they were in. They also relayed information about the co-op’s activities, and printed stories from the co-op’s members.

The people who set up the People’s Food Co-op, were part of East London Big Flame. This was a collective of fifteen or so people in East London — made up of men, women, migrants, the employed, the unemployed, and squatters — that had come together a year prior. They had been inspired by a larger collective based in Liverpool called Big Flame, who described themselves as a revolutionary socialist feminist group, orientated towards the working class. Big Flame had developed from a magazine into a political organization with smaller branches cropping up across the country. Campaigning for workers’ and women’s rights, they wanted to change the face of Leftist politics, which they consider to be outdated and unaccommodating of new forms of political and social action such as squatting.

East London Big Flame were influenced by feminist politics as well as the worker and student movements that had recently flourished in Germany and Italy, which were grounded in Autonomist Marxism. This approach espoused organizing around your own needs and political demands, rather than aligning with political parties or even unions. In an essay written anonymously by one of East London Big Flame’s members, reflecting back on the group’s activities, they explain how at the time they saw unions as being ‘blinkered by a hierarchy of white, male, middle-class’ elitism. By working together collectively, they intended to break down and to be critical of the austere social and economic structures that came to determine how one considered and conducted their life. East London Big Flame considered the house workers and the stay-at-home mums as equal to factory workers, and recognized that class struggle was inseparable from women’s struggle for equality. The members of East London Big Flame were adamant that social change or revolution could start from the houses and estates in which people lived, not just from those working in factories or along the docks.

With ‘SOARING FOOD PRICES: CAN WOMEN FIGHT BACK??’ emblazoned across the co-op’s first flyer, its members laid out how food prices had increased ‘25p in the Pound’ since 1970. They proposed that even if inflation could not be solved, they could cut out the increasing margins imposed by shopkeepers by working together and buying their food wholesale and then selling it at cost price. In this way, people would spend a little less, and in turn, keep a little more in their pockets each week. The flyer also asked its reader, rather rhetorically, ‘People get together at work to fight for a decent living — why can’t we do it where we live too?’

Although the flyer was only a one-sided piece of A4 paper and sparse in text, it had taken a whole evening to make. A member of East London Big Flame explained this in another leaflet produced sometime later, stating simply, ‘we hadn’t much experience of doing it’. However, despite the difficulty and their unfamiliarity with producing flyers, it was a prime way to procure support. The sheets of paper were diligently distributed by children on Lincoln Estate, who pushed them under people’s doors and into their homes. The flyers became a physical and symbolic reminder of rising food prices, inflation, stagnating wages, and, not least, of the widening disparity between rich and poor — not to forget the mission and activity of the food co-op itself.

One of the People’s Food Co-op’s pamphlets, bluntly titled ‘WE PAY while THEY PROFIT’, brazenly made this disparity evident. In one column the pamphlet outlined rising food prices, and in another it detailed how inflation was benefiting the banks as well as those who ran and worked for the businesses supplying food. How could it be that the price of eggs had doubled in a year, that a loaf of bread now cost 12p, and that the price of fish, frozen food, fresh fruit, meat, and biscuits — not to mention shoes, telephone bills, stamps, clothes, and beer — had all risen too? How come the four major banks had doubled their profits that year? And how come John Stratton, the chairman of the aptly titled Fatstock Marketing Corporation — supplier of fresh meat, bacon, poultry, and sausages — had received a £16,000 pay rise.

The pamphlet provoked its reader by asking, ‘How often these days can you afford pork chops?’ and ‘When did you last buy a joint of beef?’. The rhetoric was aimed to make the people of Lincoln Estate seriously consider the plight of their material living conditions. Despite the fact that the flyer was rather prosaic in parts, these questions, paired with straight forward examples of rising food prices,  clearly pointed out that what could be afforded —– as well as what cuts people were being forced to make —– was a direct consequence of the decisions and actions made by large companies and the government. Not being able to provide a roast dinner or the household staples wasn’t just a personal or family problem, it was a political one too. The pamphlet showed how one person’s problems were likely to be another’s, and by elucidating this shared reality, the co-op’s members were able to step towards changing it. Solidarity around issues in the home could lead to action, much like how strikes and unionization in the factories had led to change before. A cartoon in the pamphlet depicts fat, suit-wearing bosses, conspiring about how to maintain their soaring profits. They decide that raising rent, whilst cutting school and hospital costs, will be the perfect means to extract more and more surplus value from the already squeezed workers, who, pushed so far, ‘wouldn’t know what to do about it’. The cartoon’s final frame, however, shows (against the backdrop of a school, a hospital, and a shop) a giant, collective speech bubble riling ‘OH YEAH?’, the force of which topples the bosses. Collectivity, and the united voice, is shown as the means to combat such oppression; the People’s Food Co-op is the what to do about it.

When it was first set up, the People’s Food Co-op took some time to gain momentum, but it quickly became apparent to the resident’s on Lincoln Estate how the co-op could save them money. But the early success of the co-op meant its model had to change. Local shop keepers began to complain about the co-op’s presence on the green and the fact it was taking their customers away. It was not long before they started getting the police to shift the co-op’s stalls, as well as threatening to report the co-op to the Greater London Council for being on their property.

The fact that the co-op had managed to rile those who they had set out to defy was ample proof of their success, but to avoid further aggravation, the co-op moved indoors. Every fortnight on a Wednesday the co-op would meet at one of the member’s apartment, where they would compile a mass shopping list of what everyone wanted. Then, on Thursdays and Fridays, a few of the members would travel to Wapping market, a Cash & Carry, and other wholesalers. Fresh produce like apples, eggs, and potatoes were bought directly from farmers. The cut-price purchases would then be divided up between the different families on the estate at the weekend.

The People’s Food Co-op continued to operate as a way of distributing food and tackling rising prices, but the fortnightly meetings also began to act as an open forum where other issues, such as the problems felt by the women on Lincoln Estate, could be raised. As a result, it began to break down some of the isolation felt by many of the female residents, some of whom had expressed that they often spent days without speaking to any other adults apart from their husbands, who left for work in the morning and came back in the evening.

A sixteen-page pamphlet with the title ‘People’s Food Co-op’ playfully wrought in bubble writing at the top, was priced at 10p. It was illustrated with various photographs documenting the co-op’s work, and brought together testimonials from various members of the co-op, expressing the strong sense of community gained from joining the group. One person described how, in ‘meeting the same people every two weeks you get to know what their problems are and how they manage to cope’. But aside from the meetings acting as a space to find solace, they also functioned as a place in which to organize action and remedy shared concerns. The co-op presented a means of organizing all aspects of life differently, from living conditions, unemployment, child care, health, family, to sexuality and personal relationships. ‘When I was first in the women’s movement we used to talk about “revolutionizing our lives” and “smashing the family” but we didn’t really understand how you moved towards it in practice’, one person explained. They go on to suggest how the pragmatism and wherewithal to tackle other issues, ‘starts happening from doing something together like a food co-op’.

By showing a pragmatic way to take on social and political issues, the People’s Food Co-op did indeed lead to other community projects and initiatives. These included providing a model for other food co-ops in London, such as in Deptford and Holborn, whilst also helping to establish other community initiatives, such as a play-group in a squatted house which was free of charge and helped alleviate child-care pressures, and also a kid’s club. One resident remarked that without the co-op it was unlikely that the kids club would have started: ‘we wouldn’t have spoken to one another otherwise’. The co-op also led to the setting up of a women’s therapy group, which ran alongside another therapy group set up by other members of East London Big Flame called Red Therapy. The women’s therapy group allowed participants to talk through problems and to talk openly about certain feelings and emotions that many women in the co-op had suppressed, largely as a result of how they felt society expected them to behave. Stemming from the co-op and East London Big Flame’s interest in Autonomist theory, some members of the therapy group were explicit in their belief that therapy was a means for fighting capitalist ideology. These meetings became a way of understanding and breaking free of oppressive political and social structures that had come to affect and define the personal.

The impetus for the co-op’s members to take on other aspects of life and work may have largely germinated from these regular meetings, but the process of making pamphlets also contributed towards this. The ‘People’s Food Co-op’ pamphlet explains how the testimonials included were collected by members of the co-op interviewing each other and taping the conversations. The pamphlet details how, ‘a lot of unexpected and interesting things come out in this way’. One such example in the pamphlet is a page specifically dedicated to problems concerning Lincoln Estate, such as the bad sewage system and an infestation of insects. The page doesn’t describe what has been done to solve these problems, but rather, it put a spotlight on these issues, stressing what needed to be addressed. This keen reflexivity reveals how the pamphlet making process opened up not just a space to think about the co-op’s activity and impact, but also extended to questioning what else could be done to improve the livelihood of those involved.

In a sense this was the lasting impact of the co-op. In 1975, East London Big Flame disbanded and the People’s Food Co-op broke up with it. East London Big Flame’s desire to not have a single-issue focus, and instead wanting to understand and address how exploitation invaded all aspects of life, led the co-op’s members to influence and carry out a wide range of activities, which, adversely, also spread them too thin. East London Big Flame burnt out. The realities that the founding members were faced with, such as families and individuals moving away, led to the group’s disbandment. Yet what East London Big Flame and the People’s Food Co-op put into action found new forms after their end. The self-help therapy group set up by members of the People’s Food Co-op continued for several years, as did Red Therapy, and former members of East London Big Flame remained active in the area, supporting women workers’ rights. The brevity of East London Big Flame and the People’s Food Co-op shouldn’t be seen as a shortcoming. Instead, their activity should be seen as having set forward alternatives to take on politics and the political. Indeed, they showed how the act of asking of a simple question can come to reframe an entire situation.

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This essay first appeared in ‘Meet Me in the Present: Documents and their Afterlives’

[featurenews]

CCTV appeal in hunt for killer of man shot near Liverpool market

Police think attacker lay in wait in Old Swan area for Thomas Baker, who was found with head and chest injuries CCTV footage could provide vital clues to assist hunting the killer of a man shot dead in Liverpool, police have said. Thomas Baker was shot near the meat and fish market in the Old Swan area of the city on Friday. Continue reading... https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2017/jan/29/cctv-clue-hunt-killer-shot-liverpool-thomas-baker?utm_source=dlvr.it&utm_medium=tumblr