#made in great britain

[dyinginfandom]

Came across some beautiful finds today when I popped into a charity shop I frequent

This is a coal miner carved from British coal. I grew up in an old coal mining market town so things like this are really interesting to me

This meanwhile is a Wales association of pewter works model of the rocket created by George Stephenson. He was buried in the town when he died at Tapton and our train station has a statue of George holding one of the rocket models in one hand,

This model of the rocket is what caught my eye and then when I went to pay one of the guys asked if I noticed the British coal carving which I hadn’t due to my sight loss (dark items on a dark shelf don’t really stand out, I spotted the rocket because of the slight metallic glint in the lights) but with how beautifully carved it is I couldn’t not buy it too.

Hope you have all had a good day week month year

[bleistiftblog]

Staedtler's licensed pencils from Wales

After reading the previous Staedtler x Star Wars blog post, Bleistift reader Matthew asked for pictures of the licensed pencils made in Staedtler’s Welsh factory, so I dug some out: Mask pencils Bravestarr pencils Capers pencils David The Gnome pencils Dogtanian and Spot’s pencils Mickey Mouse pencils

[foreverinthepagesofhistoryy]

Princess Alice throughout her childhood in Photographs

~

1848 (first ever photograph taken of her, age 5)

1852 (age 9)

1853 (age 10)

1854 (age 11)

1855 (age 12)

1856 (age 13)

1857 (age 14)

1858 (age 15)

1859 (age 16)

1860 and 1861 (ages 17 + 18)

~

[britsyankswheels24]

🇬🇧 Introduced in 1981, the Triumph Acclaim holds a unique place in automotive history—it was not only the last car to wear the Triumph badge but also the first British car built with Japanese engineering. A product of a partnership between British Leyland (BL) and Honda, the Acclaim was based on the Honda Ballade, marking the beginning of British-Japanese automotive collaboration.

🚘 Design & Engineering

The Acclaim featured a 1.3L Honda CVCC engine, producing 70 hp, paired with either a 5-speed manual or a 3-speed automatic transmission. While not a performance powerhouse, it was praised for fuel efficiency, reliability, and smooth handling—a stark contrast to many of BL’s previous offerings.

🏁 The End of Triumph

Production ended in 1984, and with it, the Triumph brand was retired. The Acclaim’s successor, the Rover 200 Series, continued the BL-Honda partnership, but the Triumph name never returned to mainstream production.

Transatlantic Torque: Brits & Yanks on Wheels!

[ben-the-hyena]

5th Day of Christmas : Christmas Ghosts

On this one was quick lol but I already had to do thz other one beforehand so between that and work... anyway. Did you know that up until 20th century, and notably in the North and especially in Great Britain Christmas was seen as a season as beautiful as scary with numerous ghost stories haunting places where they are stuck or returning during the Winter Solstice ? It's not for nothing that Charles Dickens used 4 ghosts and spirits in his famous tale. But nowadays except this one tale they only show the happy, cute side. Ah but I do want spooky Christmas stories I gotta find some I am curious !

[figureskatingcostumes]

Layla Karnes and Liam Carr skating to a Eurythmics medley for their rhythm dance at the 2024 European Championships. Their costumes were designed by Lisa McKinnon.

(Source: Ester Ayerdi Photography)

[timetraveltasting]

MILK SOUP, THE DUTCH WAY (1747)

It has been a few weeks since I made a historical dish due to a busy schedule and a weekend trip tp London (where I picked up an interesting historical cookbook, 'Churchill's Cookbook', which I intend to use here if I run out of Tasting History recipes). To keep in the English mood, I decided to make my next Tasting History dish, Milk Soup, the Dutch Way. While it may have been inspired by the Dutch style of making Milk Soup at the time, it is, in fact, an 18th century English recipe from Hannah Glasse's 'The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy', published in 1747. This soup technically follows the rules of Dr. George Cheyne’s Georgian English fad diet of “Milk, Seeds, Bread, mealy Roots, and Fruit”. While it follows Dr. Cheyne’s rules, this soup less a healthy soup and more a dessert. I chose to make this recipe entirely because Max says it tastes exactly like the milk left over from Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal - a nostalgic breakfast treat from my childhood. Milk soup may sound a little strange, but it will hopefully be delicious. See Max’s video on how to make it here or see the ingredients and process at the end of this post, sourced from his website.

My experience making it:

I stuck fairly close to the recipe, other than the fact that I halved it. The only minor change I made is that instead of using whole milk, I used 1.5% milk, mainly because I bought the wrong one, mindlessly purchasing our default milk. For the sippets, I used French baguette, and for the butter, I used Kerrygold unsalted.

Milk Soup was a pretty quick dish to make, but did make a few dishes to clean. While the oven preheated, I fried the baguette slices in butter. I threw them in the oven, but they definitely took less than 30 minutes to dry out. As a result, mine were a little on the crispier side than Max's were. I heated the milk and attempted to dissolve the cinnamon and brown sugar into it with some constant stirring, but the cinnamon, like Max warned, did not quite want to combine all that well. It eventually did, but just a little. I added in two sippets, leaving the others on the side so I could try dipping them and 'croutoning' some of them into the soup when trying. I beat the egg yolk, then added half of the milk mixture to it, then poured it all back in the pot. It was super frothy at this point, so I simmered it a bit longer until the bubbles went down. I served up two portions, with a few sippets on the side, and was quite happy it looked similar to Max's Milk Soup!

My experience tasting it:

I first tried the soup by itself. To my delight, it did taste exactly like the milk left over from Cinnamon Toast Crunch! Then I tried a spoonful with some of the soup-soaked sippet: it was cinnamony, sweet, and a little buttery. A little soggy, but not terribly - similar to the last few bites of cereal before there is only milk left. Next, I dipped a crispy sippet into the soup and took a bite: this time, the sippet was almost too dry and crispy, it barely soaked up any of the soup flavour. Lastly, I broke up a sippet into crouton shapes and threw them into the Milk Soup. Taking a spoonful with these fresh, crispy bites of buttery toast was the winner for sure - probably the most literal interpretation of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. It blew my mind to think that this exact flavour and texture combination was a thing in the 18th century, long before Cinnamon Toast Crunch graced our kitchen cupboards! My husband and I both enjoyed the Milk Soup, but I would probably simplify the recipe if I was going to make it again. I think you would get the same flavour if you didn't add the beaten egg yolk. I also think that kids would really enjoy this recipe; it's a little interactive, sweet, and very close to modern flavours in desserts. If you end up making this dish, if you liked it, or if you changed anything from the original recipe, do let me know!

Milk Soup (The Dutch Way) original recipe (1747)

Sourced from The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy by Hannah Glasse, 1747.

Boil a quart of milk with cinnamon and moist sugar; put sippets in the dish, pour the milk over it, and set it over a charcoal fire to simmer, till the bread is soft. Take the yolks of two eggs, beat them up, and mix it with a little of the milk, and throw it in; mix it all together, and send it up to table.

Modern Recipe

Based on The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy by Hannah Glasse, c. 1747, and Max Miller’s version in his Tasting History video.

Ingredients:

Sippets

4 tablespoons butter

8-12 small pieces of bread, I used a baguette sliced 1/2” thick

Soup

1 quart, plus 3/4 cup (1.1 L) whole milk

1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon

1/3 cup (70 g) light brown sugar

2 egg yolks, beaten

Method:

For the sippets: Preheat the oven to 225°F (105°C) and line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

Melt the butter in a pan over medium heat, then add the bread slices. Cook for 1 minute on each side, or until nicely browned.

Place the bread on the baking sheet and bake for 30 minutes or until they are dry and crisp.

For the soup: When the sippets are almost done, pour the milk into a pot and whisk in the cinnamon and brown sugar.

Bring to a simmer over medium heat, then add the sippets. Simmer, stirring occasionally to make sure the milk doesn’t burn, until the sippets are soft.

Add about 1/2 cup of the hot milk mixture to the egg yolks, whisking constantly, then add it all back to the pot and stir for 10 to 15 seconds. Remove from the heat and serve it forth.

[asnarkyandironicusername]

Day 08 of @remadoramicrofics - Guts

Remus feels moss and ferns brush his stomach as he crept through the Forbidden Forest. In front of him, a brown hare dug through fallen leaves. Drool flooded his mouth as he caught its scent. Despite his slow, deliberate motions, the Hare must have spotted it because it bolted. No matter, Remus had its scent and bounded after it.Twigs reached out and scratched at him as they raced through the underbrush. 

As he readied to pounce, the hare ducked into a burrow. Remus began clawing at the dirt as he snarled. He wasn’t about to lose his prey, not now. Above him, a crow cawed accusingly. Just as he was about to relent, he saw a flash of white and snapped his jaws around the soft flesh, reveling in the cracking of the bones.

No. Something is wrong…very very wrong. It isn’t a hare under him, but a child and his wife. The sweet iron taste in his mouth soured and burned. And the crow…the crow was all wrong. The crow above him, calling out his sins, is far too shrill to be a crow and far too close to be in the tree that loomed above them. He looked up to see Andromeda Tonks screaming at him.

Just as a flash of green filled his eyes, he sat up to find himself not in the forbidden forest, or any forest, but his bedroom. “Remus,” Tonks’s voice flooded his ears as she shook him. “Remus, wake up,” she huffed, “you’re having a nightmare.”

Tendrils of sweat ran down his back as Tonks pulled him against her. He squirmed out of her grasp. “N-no,” he gasped, “the baby, is the baby –”

She reached out and pulled his hand to her stomach. “The baby is fine,” she told him as he felt their child squirm under her skin. “I’m fine. We’re both worried about you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said as he ran his hands over his face, “for waking you.”

“You’re my husband, I want you to wake me up when you’re having a nightmare. That’s part of it,” she said as she wagged her finger, letting the small rock glint in the light. He was certain she’d charmed it to catch the light no matter where it was, likely to hide the fact that he could only afford a very modest stone and band set. “Tell me about it,” she whispered as she ran one hand across his shoulders and used one to hold his hand on her.

“No,” he said quickly. He squirmed out of her grip and settled on the bed, turning his back to her.

She wrapped an arm around his chest and rested over his heart. She leaned up against him, breath ghosting his ear as she whispered, “Please, maybe I could help –”

“It was you, Dora, you and the child and your mother, she –”

Tonks giggled. “I’m telling Mum you’re having nightmares about her.”

“No, no you can’t –” his breath hitched as he felt tears prick his eyes.

“Hey, hey, you listen to me,” she told him softly as her hand drew patterns over his chest, “it was just a bad dream. It doesn’t mean anything, Remus John Lupin.”

Remus was quiet, so she continued, “Please, tell me about it. If nothing else, I deserve to know what my part was.”

He looked over his shoulder at her. Her heart shaped face seemed fuller than it normally did and he wasn’t sure whether she was morphing it now or had simply been spending most days morphing the baby weight away. Her lips were set in a pout to match her furrowed brow and her pink fringe fell over her forehead and simultaneously stuck up in all directions. 

“The victim,” he said finally, remembering her horrified and pained expression. She rolled her eyes but stayed quiet as he continued, “I was in the Forbidden Forest, during the full moon, and there was a hare. I…I was hunting it –”

“I’m not a hare, Remus.”

“No, I know, I think the hare was…I don’t know – I was chasing it but it dove into a burrow so I tried to dig it out. I think I did,” he added. “But when I looked up, saw the carnage, it wasn’t a hare or a burrow…It was you…and our child,” he whispered. “I killed my own –”

He was quieted by her hand slapping over his mouth. She leaned over him, pinning him down to the bed with a hand on his chest and a hand on his mouth. She swung her legs over him, settling in his lap. She leaned over as far as her stomach allowed. 

She brought his hand back to her abdomen as she said firmly, “No, you didn’t. Your wife and child are right here, next to you, very much alive. You dreamt that you killed your family; they are not the same.”

He swallowed as she leaned down and replaced her hand with her mouth. When she sat back she smiled down at him. She settled down next to him, never letting his hand leave her swollen stomach as their child pressed against it.

He laid there for a while, waiting for Tonks to fall asleep. Her breath never evened out, though. Instead, she whispered, “But, even though it was just a nightmare, I promise not to go out in the Forbidden Forest – as a hare or otherwise – for the rest of this pregnancy.”

“And you’ll stay away from me during transformations,” he prompted. Lately, she had been getting a little too relaxed. Last full moon, she had become so confident in Remus and her potions abilities that she had visited him. 

“Yes,” she said.

Remus nodded, feeling sleep pull at him. 

“If you’ll tell me one thing,” she said, jolting him awake.

“What?”

“What was Mum doing in it?”

“Screaming at me,” he admitted.

Tonks laughed. “I’m so telling her,” she said through hiccups and tears.

[madeineurope]

🎨 James Stark - Lambeth from the River Looking towards Westminster Bridge, 1818

[fluentisonus]

also check out this rudder

[lilac-nites]

*

[locklylemybeloved]

lucy asking lockwood if he takes sugar in his tea 🤝 lockwood saying that the orange juice with pulp is lucys favorite

seeming inconsequential to the person who does it, but probably deeply hurting the other despite what they want you to think

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

i really am gonna finish this architecture book by the power of Too Sleepy To Start New Fiction, huh

[pinkwarsworld]

Unless, you ask the great British public apparently

I mean this ☝️☝️☝️ is bad enough, a quarter of the public thinking poor out of work (likely disabled or long term sick or even women trying to find work but can't because a large section of the feckless job market doesn't account for needing flexible time to look after their kids) or those in low paid meanial jobs shouldn't have access to basic human standards of living, but this 👇👇👇

Is absolutely ludicrous 40 percent basically think if you're poor you shouldn't be able to celebrate holidays, and that forty five percent think people who are sat at home all day ill and in pain or who might be working two jobs and STILL need universal credit to make ends meet shouldn't be able to watch TV and try and forget the misery that is their lives for an hour or two. Rest IS sacred, but apparently only for the wealthy.

Good news: if you’re currently laying around and not producing anything, you are a credit to your species.

[bbourbonkid]