It's said that there's something special about the water in these parts. It makes good beer, and brewing ale in the town where I now live began in the early 1600s. The village where I grew up was home to Miss Joule, last of the John Joule & Sons brewing dynasty - the stuff of legends (that's her and the beer). And thanks to its proximity to the Trent & Mersey Canal, by the mid-19th century the Joules brand was savoured as far afield as Europe, the United States and even Australia.
For the nostalgic amongst you, the area was also home to Bass Charrington, M&B, Banks's, Ind Coope, Bents, Bindley & Co, Allsopp & Sons, Marstons, Old Wolverhampton Breweries, Wolverhampton & Dudley, Thomas Salt...most of those names now eclipsed by multi-national, far less evocative brands (Coors anyone?)
And, of course, the nearby town of Burton-upon-Trent is famous for its brewing by-product - namely Marmite. First produced in 1902, the familiar glass jar echoes the french cooking pot after which it's named. Since its 100th anniversary in 2002, several special edition Marmites have been produced. The most recent is Marmite XO (extra old), which is supposed to be matured for four times longer for the 'most dedicated of Marmite lovers'.
So it was clearly a well-chosen birthday present for yours truly. The only problem - what to do when I have to go back to the regular variety? Use four times as much?
And since you ask, the best way to eat Marmite is on toast, smothered with crunchy peanut butter. The second best way is on my mother's home made white bread with mature Lancashire cheese (or if you insist, boring Cheddar) and plain crisps.
And there's no need to get too despondent about the demise of the Staffordshire brewing industry, I'm glad to report that it's alive and well...positively thriving in fact. We've seen a host of micro breweries start up in the last few years and I heartily recommend Slaters Ales, Lymestone and my favourite, Titanic.
Cheers
A
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
Summer reading
It's that time of year. The holiday's sorted, the cobwebs have been blown off the suitcases and summer clothes but the cable I need to connect my MP3 player to the external speakers has disappeared again. So a replacement heads up the Amazon order - it was easy to find because I bought one this time last year as well.
What's next? Books of course. I say I'll keep up with the reading throughout the year, but in reality there just isn't the time. And anyway, doing something different is what makes holidays so special. Apart from books, I rely on day-old copies of the Daily Telegraph, assorted podcasts hastily gathered over the previous month, intermittent radio reception (depending on where we are that could be the World Service, BBC Radio 4 or 5) and the local French journaux for my information and entertainment.
Daily Telegraph? I did say doing something different is what makes holidays so special.
I've read some cracking new books on recent holidays. The Line of Beauty (Alan Hollinghurst), The Time Traveler's Wife (Audrey Niffenegger), Narrowdog to Indian River (Terry Darlington), Arthur & George (Julian Barnes), The Sea (John Banvile), The Colour of Memory (Geoff Dyer), Things My Mother Never told me (Blake Morrison), Be Near Me (Andrew O'Hagen), Stuart - a life backwards (Alexander Masters) and reread some old favourites by Annie Proulx, Carol Shields, Alison Lurie, Mark Twain, Thomas Mann and Anne Tyler.
And then there are those so lame I'd rather not mention them in public...but my advice is to avoid anything written by anyone remotely connected to football. Oh, you knew that already? Of course. Moving on.
But this year the choice is even more critical than usual. We're going to spend two weeks in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere not even the Telegraph or the BBC dare to venture. The selection so far is Revolutionary Road (Richard Yates), Patrimony (somewhat unbelievably my first Philip Roth), Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi (Geoff Dyer), Brooklyn (Colm Toibin), The Uncommon Reader (Alan Bennett), Juliet, Naked (Nick Hornby), The Last Weekend (Blake Morrison) and One Day (David Nicholls).
I did buy Naked in Dangerous Places (soon to be published in the UK as Stranded in Dangerous Places) by the irrepressible Cash Peters. But I couldn't resist it and read it as soon as it arrived. It's based on his TV travel show, Stranded, and is part entertaining travel writing, part autobiography and part scathing, behind-the-scenes look at making a modern TV programme. Needless to say, the biggest culture gaps don't occur when Cash visits remote Pacific Islands. Read the book or catch Cash on BBC Radio 5's hidden jewel of a programme, Up All Night, on Wednesday mornings from 2.30am.
What do you mean, that's the middle of the night. Duh, the clue's in the name of the programme. Get it on i-Player if you insist on your 8 hours kip a night. Lightweights.
Anyway, whichever way you look at it, that's at least four books short of ideal, so feel free to chip in with your recommendations. I might even blog to let you know what I thought of my summer reading.
A
What's next? Books of course. I say I'll keep up with the reading throughout the year, but in reality there just isn't the time. And anyway, doing something different is what makes holidays so special. Apart from books, I rely on day-old copies of the Daily Telegraph, assorted podcasts hastily gathered over the previous month, intermittent radio reception (depending on where we are that could be the World Service, BBC Radio 4 or 5) and the local French journaux for my information and entertainment.
Daily Telegraph? I did say doing something different is what makes holidays so special.
I've read some cracking new books on recent holidays. The Line of Beauty (Alan Hollinghurst), The Time Traveler's Wife (Audrey Niffenegger), Narrowdog to Indian River (Terry Darlington), Arthur & George (Julian Barnes), The Sea (John Banvile), The Colour of Memory (Geoff Dyer), Things My Mother Never told me (Blake Morrison), Be Near Me (Andrew O'Hagen), Stuart - a life backwards (Alexander Masters) and reread some old favourites by Annie Proulx, Carol Shields, Alison Lurie, Mark Twain, Thomas Mann and Anne Tyler.
And then there are those so lame I'd rather not mention them in public...but my advice is to avoid anything written by anyone remotely connected to football. Oh, you knew that already? Of course. Moving on.
But this year the choice is even more critical than usual. We're going to spend two weeks in the middle of nowhere. Somewhere not even the Telegraph or the BBC dare to venture. The selection so far is Revolutionary Road (Richard Yates), Patrimony (somewhat unbelievably my first Philip Roth), Jeff in Venice, Death in Varanasi (Geoff Dyer), Brooklyn (Colm Toibin), The Uncommon Reader (Alan Bennett), Juliet, Naked (Nick Hornby), The Last Weekend (Blake Morrison) and One Day (David Nicholls).
I did buy Naked in Dangerous Places (soon to be published in the UK as Stranded in Dangerous Places) by the irrepressible Cash Peters. But I couldn't resist it and read it as soon as it arrived. It's based on his TV travel show, Stranded, and is part entertaining travel writing, part autobiography and part scathing, behind-the-scenes look at making a modern TV programme. Needless to say, the biggest culture gaps don't occur when Cash visits remote Pacific Islands. Read the book or catch Cash on BBC Radio 5's hidden jewel of a programme, Up All Night, on Wednesday mornings from 2.30am.
What do you mean, that's the middle of the night. Duh, the clue's in the name of the programme. Get it on i-Player if you insist on your 8 hours kip a night. Lightweights.
Anyway, whichever way you look at it, that's at least four books short of ideal, so feel free to chip in with your recommendations. I might even blog to let you know what I thought of my summer reading.
A
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