Little roasted pineapple and banana cakes

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Despite its sunny, bright and tropical image, I remain perverse in seeing pineapple as an autumnal fruit especially when it is roasted to bring out those darker, more complex flavours. The sharp bite of the uncooked flesh is mellowed by the oven and if you are one of those folks who cannot eat it in its raw state (because the enzymes start to digest the buccal membranes), this method should render the fruit tamed, a nicely domesticated beast fit for the tenderest of palates. However if you yearn for the pleasure a small dose of heat gives you, then go ahead and add a tiny tiny pinch of chile to the pineapple before you roast it. But keep it minimal. You won’t need to use all of the pineapple; in fact this recipe only requires a scant two rings of it BUT you will have the glorious tasting leftover to chop up and add to vanilla ice cream or serve an extra piece alongside one of these cakes with a dollop of cream, ice cream or creme fraiche. Your call.

The recipe is basically my best ever banana muffin method, slightly amended. I tried it with larger chinks of pineapple but concluded that a messy shredded pile of fruit works best and prevents the fruit sinking to the bottom of the cake. Just to add to the joyousness, the fruit moistens an already damp cake crumb in a manner reminiscent of pineapple upside down cake.

Makes about eight medium sized cupcake portions.

Preparation time 15 mins + chilling. Cooking time 18-20 mins. Preheat oven to 375F / 190c / Gas mark 5

Ingredients

For the muffins-

175g softened butter / 120g caster sugar / 4 oz soft brown sugar / 1 beaten egg / 3 ripe medium size bananas, mashed / 1 tsp Vanilla extract / 250g plain flour / 1 tsp baking powder /

For the pineapple preparation-

1 small pineapple sliced into rings about 1 cm thick / nugget of butter for greasing the baking tray / 1 and a half tbsp dark rum / 1 tbsp demerara sugar / a tiny pinch of chile (optional)

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Preheat oven to 200C. Grease the baking tray with butter and peel and slice the pineapple into rings. Place on the tray and pour over the rum. Then scatter the demerara sugar over, the chile if using and dab a little dot of butter onto each pineapple ring. Roast in the oven for ten minutes or until the pineapple has started to brown and catch around the edges and the sugar has melted. Take out and leave to cool. and turn the oven to 190C / C375F. Then when the pineapple is cool, cube two decent sized rings (leaving the rest for another meal) and then shred them into small pieces – don’t worry about it looking pretty.

Place butter and sugars into a bowl and beat until light and fluffy. Gradually beat in the egg until it is well incorporated then stir in the mashed bananas and vanilla extract. Sift the flour and baking powder together then sift into the mixture and incorporate, making sure you don’t over mix. Lastly, add the shredded pineapple and incorporate well.

Grease a muffin pan with butter or baking spray or use paper muffin cases inside a muffin pan (we do this). Take spoons of the mixture and add to the muffin cases/pan, filling them 2/3 full. Bake for 18-20 minutes or until done; they can vary a little in their cooking times depending upon the size of the muffins made. Keep an eye on them and remove when golden and a tester stick comes out clean when inserted into their middle. Allow to cool for as long as you can stand to wait then eat!

Apologies for the Warholian photo editing. I just could not resist!

Nursing at St Audrys – an oral history of a Suffolk psychiatric hospital

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St Audry’s Hospital situated in rural Suffolk closed its doors in 1993.  Originally a workhouse, it became the Suffolk County Asylum in 1832.  Countless people passed though the hospital, for many it became home, and they left behind their stories, some of which are recorded, the majority lost. Sadly the nature of mental health means that patients historically have been voiceless both politically and culturally- how many people today know that a person under a section of the Mental Health Act legally cannot vote? In addition, data protection and privacy laws means that a hundred years must pass from the death of the last patient before any personal details can be released into the public realm.

In 2012, a project was set up by the Museum of East Anglian Life to explore the hidden history of St Audry’s. The Museum, alongside Felixstowe Museum and the Suffolk Record Office, were recipients of the hospital museum collection and archive when it closed.  ‘Telling it like is: the story of a psychiatric hospital in Suffolk’ collaborated with mental health service users to create work to accompany a permanent display in Abbot’s Hall, part of the Museum. The project also explored and recorded people’s emotional connections with the St Audry’s site.

We spent an afternoon visiting Abbots Hall and the very moving (and at times troubling) exhibition, telling the story of St Audrys and the people who worked and were hospitalised there. Determined to find out more and conscious of the very important need for confidentiality and embargo on the release of documents for this period of time, Inspired by this, I recently interviewed a Registered Mental health Nurse from Suffolk who trained at the St Audry’s School of Nursing and was subsequently employed as a staff and then charge nurse at the hospital. Trained at a time when the introduction of new Antipsychotic medication meant patients experienced far less sedating effects and fewer side effects alongside the development of Nursing as a profession meant they saw some exciting cultural changes within mental health. Add to this the closure of the old style psychiatric hospitals due to the inception of Care in the Community and the Care Programme Approach and we see how many changes staff were privy to.

Here is this nurses oral history as told to me. Parts of their account include references to self harm. 

“One of the back doors to one of the hospital blocks. I think it might be have been Rendlesham Ward. (the wards were named after local villages) – the rear door, when you looked at it from the outside, you could see the outline of a white nurses uniform and hat. And it wasn’t a reflection, apparently from anything else around, and the glass had been changed. This is the myth. They’d put fresh glass in but still this white nurses effigy remained as an imprint into the glass.

“When you looked at it you could see a white apron and triangle of the hat. It was most definitely there. Spooky. And I don’t even believe in ghosts or anything like that!”

“I started there Oct 16th 1978. It was still St Audrys school of nursing and the Ipswich student cohort came out there. In my final year, they developed the school of nursing and we decanted it to Ipswich General hospital. The hospital, by and large had a very friendly, family atmosphere. Many of the patients had been there decades, many months at least and they knew each other.

“Long stay patients went to different therapies…making garden furniture, paving slabs- breeze blocks I think they made. The staff sports and social club was actually built from bricks made in the grounds. and the paving slabs certainly were. They’d got rid of the farm when I was there. No more waste food could be given to animals from domestic or other food supplies- the new Health & Safety laws. We had a big food prep area that made industrial prepared potatoes/vegetables for other institutions such as schools and hospitals and our patients worked preparing the meals. Institutions were expensive but high value, for example with St Audry’s, about 5-10 yrs prior to its close, the boiler needed replacing. Amazingly enough it was more cost effective to install a new boiler than it was to run down the old inefficient one in the last ten years of its life.

“Supervision wise, they were supervised as workers, rather then psychiatric patients and this was an important part of developing and keeping their skills and dignity as working people. Nursing staff could be called in should a disturbance arise but we didn’t stand over them. We did have responsibility to ensure they were at work and we shared information- if a patient had an off day, supervision could be provided by OT, technical instructor (a non professionally qualified member of the Occupational Therapy team) or nursing staff. If somebody wasn’t performing at work, we had direct feedback that they might be relapsing. It helped contribute to the twenty four hour picture we built up of our patients and how they managed in the various environments they lived, socialised and worked in.

“Some of the OT staff and TI staff were hugely professional and engaged- they wanted to improve the social and economic functioning of their patients. NOT to make them ‘earn their keep’ but instead to improve the quality of their life and the value they held it in. Caring. At this time, we were in a relatively early stage in the development of the OT psychiatric knowledge base and the recent breakthroughs in drug therapy allowed therapy to become more modern. Occupational therapy took off because patients were better able to focus and engage and give feedback on how they felt they were doing and what they might like to do. Care became more proactive and nursing became less regimental.

“A lot of males went into psychiatric nursing whereas other areas of nursing  were more female dominated. Many of our original male staff were from national service/services backgrounds that had a heavily regimented and institutional control system and structure and this may have influenced how patients were looked after. Their background was relied upon when medication was very basic and primitive in its therapeutic effects. Patients often became very distressed and sometimes violent and the staff would use methods of restraint and control that nowadays (quite rightly) we have rejected. Patients knew where the boundaries were- and the hospital was a microcosm of society, its social boundaries were rigid and hierarchical. When I arrived there were still charge nurses insisting on precision lined up beds- you could align the pillows all along the room, fold back of the sheets, all aligned. Not to emphasise high standards in care but simply because it was regimented. That was how you did it and all nursing in the seventies and eighties had yet to develop a professional knowledge base which expected you to account for why you were doing what you were doing and what the results of those actions might be. Did it have an evidence base and was this best practice was not a question nurses used to have to ask themselves. I mean, we knew then and know now that tightly tucked in sheets help reduce pressure sores because parts of the body laying on a crease or fold in the sheet fabric are more vulnerable but in those days we did it because we were told to do it. The intellectual and scientific underpinning of our decisions and actions was less dominant. Wards had routines, individual matrons and charge nurses had their individual quirks, likes and dislikes that manifested as ward and care habits and practices, most of them were not rooted in objectivity.

“Minsmere House was the acute unit, very modern for its time (80’s)  and took all acute mentally unwell people, both male and female from aged sixteen to sixty four. New patients came into the services and were placed upon a regime of modern medications, O.T and pyschological therapies which encouraged independence and kept their personalities intact. Yet institutions required the enforcement of their rules which inevitably leads to the suppression of individual need to the needs of the group and organisation. I saw the seachange and both ends of the spectrum of care quite early on in my career. I saw the beginnings of community nursing through the formation of Community Mental Health Teams (CMHT’s). I saw people going from one type of care to another, we got to know their family backgrounds and saw them in context.

A wide range of people were admitted to St Audry’s- people coming in, young in their illness with less of the dramatic symptoms you used to see when patients weren’t treated so swiftly or with effective drugs. They’d get admitted to wards for short term treatment to medium term treatment. Or end up on long stay wards up to thirty years. Also lots of elderly people, some ex workhouse with terrible, terrible experiences documented in their files, some newly admitted people with dementia who one year earlier had been fully productive and engaged in their lives. No prior history of mental ill-health at all so a dreadful shock for their families who had looked forward to Grandad or Grandmothers retirement and now had to adjust to a very different future.

“Patients were not often confined to the hospital and its grounds unless they were too unwell to go out. I clearly recall one patient going down regularly, weekly. He’d have his weekly wages, buy his fish and chips at the local chip shop then nip to the Horse and Groom for a pint. He was severely socially dysfunctional in that he couldn’t relate to money. He’d hold his hand out with the money and they’d take it, the barlady or shop assistant. The pub would only let him have his allowance of beer – they just knew what he should have as we went in there and obviously could have a quiet word with the staff alongside the patient so everybody knew where they stood. Everyone knew everyone and nurses would drink with some patients in the pub on our days off. I’d see patients in Woodbridge on market day – they’d walk there or get the bus. There was a certain amount of freedom with staff taking patients out on walks which would often entail a walk to the pub!  I recall taking bored patients out on Saturday which were slower days as occupational therapy was closed (this still happens on wards now) and there was no ward round or routine medical clinics to break up the monotony of the day.

“Weekends always a great cigarette crisis you see. Everyone ran out including the staff and we’d resort to smoking dog ends out the ashtrays- we called them dog end rollies. If you had papers, you’d remake the ends. Great attacks of nicotine withdrawal all round as in those days loads of psychiatric staff also smoked. You’d find inventive ways of taking up the slack and in the seventies and eighties, shops closed at weekends, there was little public transport and less staff drove so we couldn’t necessarily get to the metropolis of Ipswich nor spare the staff. Plus it was a village. If  the pub closed, there was no sales of cigs. Everyone had spent their weekly allowance, no shops, no money. Everyone went cold turkey. So we’d invent quizzes, put music on for dancing, walks, take them gardening, anything to keep them settled and take their minds off the lack of nicotine! We’d have Christmas parties and lunch with turkey carved by the psychiatrists, ward and hospital dances where male and female patients could mix. Quite a lively social life accompanied everywhere by great clouds of cigarette smoke. We all chuffed away like Thomas the Tank Engine.

“The minibuses- elderly patients used it for trips to local villages. The staff would try to visit where patients were from to help them reminisce and get them talking to each other. We would take people to Felixstowe and book the Red Cross hut out for the day. The Red Cross would provide staff and meals and we’d take wheelchairs, carry them over the sand so the patients could paddle in the sea, buy ice creams and sit along the front, summer and winter eating them. Alcohol wasn’t banned and we had wards where patients could have a drink. Every meds trolley had alcohol. Beer wine whisky rum and brandy could be written up on the charts for night- better than many other medications as drinking a tot was socially normal and social too. Wards still have a bottle of something in the dispensary now. We wanted to offer as many ‘normal’ experiences as we could because with the best will in the world, you couldn’t totally overcome the limitations of your surroundings.

The problem was that the Victorian nightingale wards were open, and you only got a curtain if you were lucky and a locker. So little privacy. The locker was lockable although only the staff member would have a key though. Several long stay patients saved up to buy their own beds, bought their own side tables and decorated their side rooms. Or family would bring in an armchair. Not often but it would be taken on board. No issues about fire retardancy and smoking on wards in those days and we did have ward fires. Although more fires started after they banned smoking in public and inside areas because patients, staff and visitors now hide away when they have a cigarette and then toss it in a place where it smoulders and sets things alight. The amount of small fires always went up when a trust banned smoking!

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“There was a token economy of sex going on. Some patients would find ways of having a ‘finger’ for a fag- yes I know this sounds a crude way of putting it but that’s the truth of it. Sexual feelings don’t stop because you have a mental illness and nor does the need for human closeness, intimacy, comfort and pleasure. Some of the women got their cigs this way. The staff would encourage discretion because sometimes masturbation became addictive behaviour or a form of acting out and obviously sometimes the sexual activity might not be consensual or it was exploitative or the patient was especially vulnerable. We encouraged the use of private space for private activities. I don’t recall patients getting pregnant. Only staff and not only by their husbands! There was a fair amount of relationship problems and break ups among staff because the job could be stressful, there was a lot of staff and…well…live hard, play hard. Upsetting events at work can throw people together. They cling together like puppies in a basket and see their colleagues as understanding in a way that their partner does not. It could be an illusion.

“Sexual relations were not encouraged but they did go on, however a lot of medication related sexual dysfunction also happened, stopped some of the sexual behaviours and this is still a problem today. Sadly one of the biggest barriers to people remaining on medication that is otherwise beneficial to them in terms of preventing relapse and keeping them well and happy is the fact that it destroys their sex life. I did and do believe that patients have a right to open and honest discussion about sexual side effects and we don’t talk about it enough.

“I do recall that one male patient was with another lady in the cricket pavilion and he rushed back in a distressed state. She had collapsed and he mistook a seizure for sexual ecstasy. That curtailed their sex life! It kind of put him off.

“We had staff cricket matches- our social club had team and home matches which were quite well supported and we played matches and games in the grounds which were extensive. Some patients would wander over, others would be taken to watch. The kitchens would celebrate patients special events and birthdays with beautiful home baked birthday cake and other celebrations. They’d make match teas too. Staff related to their patients over a period of time and tried to make value of their lives, tried to make it constructive with events that would stand out in their mind, create memories that were happy and good. There were horrible staff, but not hugely.

“With regard to the upsetting side of the profession and life in St Audrys- I recall one elderly patient got to their mid sixties and had been depressed for decades. They’d been in for MECT (modified electro convulsive therapy- what we used to call ECT), lived life for thirty years with depression. Existed really. Decided in their sixth decade that this was it so took themself into the bathroom with a bread knife, was found but took three days to die- They just couldn’t recover. This patient got the knife from the kitchen as the elderly ward was not secure. Even when the kitchen was out of bounds, if you looked at what patients made themselves implement wise- my god that was a cabinet of horrors. We’d be as careful as we could, counting tools and implements in and out, checking everything was secure but sometimes things happened. That death had profound effects upon me and others. The sense that all we’d done was postponed this person’s death for decades and decades because they had been so depressed for so long. The staff were very shaken by that and the patients too. This can trigger spate suicide attempts among them so we promoted a time of high awareness and modified our awareness of risk factors. Grief is not always shown in way you expect by people whether they are deemed mentally well or ill. In fact Freud stated that the times when man (and woman) are unreachable to both therapy and reason is during times of bereavement or when they are falling in love. Freud spoke some sense here.

“We question ourselves also. What could we do better? What was the point of our jobs? Yes- we ask that too when we work so hard to try to keep somebody alive when they themselves do not thank you for it nor wish you to do it. In other branches of medicine patients and relatives say “Thank you for saving him, Doctor and Nurse” and “Thank you for saving me, Doctor or Nurse”. We cannot be assured of that response. Of course now we have all manner of risk assessments and critical incident evaluation and clinical and peer supervision to help us manage ourselves and others when things like this happen. Not then. We went home or to the pub or staff social club. Or we just buried it in our minds and carried on.

“Patients lived for decades there and died there too. The hospital had its own morgue and graveyard and we buried patients in it if their families had no other plans for them. Or sometimes families chose our graveyard because after all, the hospital may have been their loved ones only or main home and of course their fellow patients grieved for them and had a grave to visit. Sadly now, the graveyard has not been maintained. I find this very insulting to the patients memories.

“Staff had to deal with patients’ relatives dying too – breaking the news to them and of course there were marital break ups that we had to support patients through. Their parents start dying and when you’ve had schizophrenia since you were seventeen and you are now fifty, you have no friends and those parents are the only relatives that visit you. Remember that stigma of mental illness was much much worse and families often did not mention their sick relative in the local psychiatric hospital. The patient with schizophrenia now is in NO way comparable to what they were like twenty, thirty, forty years ago. The modern meds arrest the break up of the personality that we used to see with the older drugs such as Chlorpromazine which wasn’t nicknamed ‘Liquid Cosh’ for the hell of it. On these old drugs they became ciphers, empty vessels. A very harrowing thing to see and difficult to work with as we all need that feedback from those we communicate with. Getting little response every day, little emotion showing. Very hard and very sad. And that is just our perspective- imagine what it must have been like for them. Our difficulties pale into comparison.

“There were great minds trapped by psychotic conditions like Schizophrenia. One person who was forty or close to it and had an ageless trapped face. His psyche was trapped. He used to move chess pieces around the board, take half of them off and it all looked random until you looked more closely and spoke to family. He was a chess champion, with a phenomenal brain, plotting seven or eight moves ahead. I worked in dementia too- these people have experiences they cannot tell us but they are all great experiences. Remember their personhood.

“I recall this one man, he’d been quite psychotic some 8-10 years. Had this belief that one day men would take a rocket ship into space, fly around, then land that same rocket back on earth. He was completely fixated on men flying into space- it absorbed so much of his thinking. Then in the year of the first space shuttle I was on the ward with him and the shuttle was making a final approach to land, all televised. I tried to engage him in discussion about this, tried to explain what was happening. He would NOT engage in the reality of it. He then went back into his patter of ‘one day’ .”No mate it HAS happened!” The actual reality of it was not the point for him. His delusional framework was completely constructed around the future event and not it as reality and there was little success in challenging this. He wanted to retain that dream of a great and magical feat of science.

“There was often a lot of tenderness between patient and nurse- they would want to help us, offer to carry sports equipment and  would insist, fighting for the right to carry stuff back and we’d try to discourage this and guard against appearing to have ‘favourites.’. Anything they could do for you, they would want to try. Patients would know about your life. They would care. They knew the ages of our children, they would closely watch our faces and know instantly if we weren’t right, if we’d have a row with our partner before work. They would ask about it and we would have to manage boundaries without being seen to offend their genuine concern. When you work in a place for twenty or more years with patients who have been there for maybe double that time….well… There’s not much they don’t know about you, the hospital, the local area. You ended up all talking about the same thing- not because we didn’t see them as people who’d respond, but because we did interact with them. Patients would chip in and add to conversations and the ones appearing least engaged, would often surprise you. Patients would care about others too, taking you aside “keep an eye on….”They might not tell you why, but you knew it was to be taken very seriously. In fact ignore their observations at your peril.

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St Audrys

Yes the old style hospitals have had their day and they were terribly institutionalising- patients often had communal clothing and the stories you hear of them sharing dentures were true. That was untenable. BUT we have also lost a lot. No use talking about caring in a community that doesn’t actually care because it absorbs messages about the mentally unwell from the government and society as a whole- that they don’t matter, that they are not worth spending public funds on and should accept the dregs. That they should be housed in prisons and homeless hostels, in substandard housing or left to manage until they deteriorate to critical levels rather then treated proactively so they do not relapse. Our mental health system is broken and at least the old style hospitals gave the mentally unwell a bed, warm clean clothing, three meals and a sense of community. Now they are left to depend upon relatives with sharp elbows, trying to get the best care they can for their loved ones while government ministers pretend that cuts = better care.

“They must think we are all stupid”

To find out more about NSFTCrisis- the campaign for better mental health care in Norfolk and Suffolk visit them here. 

Telling it like it is- St Audry’s, the story of an asylum’.

 

 

 

 

 

We Review The Wharf, Southwark

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We came here for Supper after an exhausting afternoon dragging around Winter Wonderland and finding everywhere else full of works Christmas parties, slowly losing hope that we’d find anywhere decent as a walk in bedraggled, Christmas shopping loaded family. The Wharf is a riverside restaurant very near to the National Theatre and other major South Bank attractions and the view at night of the river,Tate Modern spotted Damian Hirst decorated water taxi busying past, bounded by St Pauls Cathedral and crossed by softly blue lit bridges proved a major distraction from our plates of food. Utterly magical and worthy of a inclusion in the prime opening credits of a Richard Curtis movie yet this super prime city location was not reflected in what we were charged: The Wharf has a very reasonable price point and many of the local restaurants in darkest Suffolk charge more.

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Seafood linguine

The restaurant doesn’t serve up cutting edge molecular cuisine and neither does it go for a loftier ‘Haute’ Italian. We are not talking Locanda Locatelli or River Cafe. Instead it has a small carefully chosen menu of classics- calamari, risotti, pasta and pizza all cooked fresh to order. Seafood linguine contained a decent portion of clam, mussels and prawns in a creamy wine-y sauce (couldn’t finish it as they gave us a lot), the risotti is made properly with a good ‘ripple’ across the top when you tilt the plate and the garlic prawns were crunchy, juicy and not something you’d want to eat the day before a hot date.(Loads of garlic!) A good cheesecake and non Italiano-trad brownie made up the bulk of the small pudding menu. Other options included Roasted Butternut Squash with goat’s cheese, roasted peppers, pine kernels, rocket and herb olive oil; arrabiata Linguine spiked with chillies and a classic warm apple tart.

The restaurant was full of locals, working away on laptops and families, latecomers to the groups coming and going, many seemed to know each other. Always a good sign. And that view <sighs>.

 

 

A stay at Alde Garden

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Alde Garden

The wonderful thing about Suffolk is that it is full of hidden nooks and crannies, winding lanes, pubs in hamlets, woodland that feels unchartered and above all, amazing people with a real commitment to the environment, to their customers and their businesses. Mark and Marie who own and run the White Horse pub in Sweffling, the Alde Gardens campsite and its adjacent hideaway holiday cottage called ‘Badgers Cottage’ are two such people, originally from Southend in next door Essex and now honorary Suffolk folk. Having started the campsite back in June 2010, inspired by their own love of camping and thoughts about how to do it better based upon the sites they visited and love of the environment, they used the revenue from early guests to renovate the White Horse pub, keeping its original character intact and saving yet another one of our country pubs from closure.

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Set in the tiny little village of Sweffling a mere few miles away from Saxmundham, Framlingham and the glorious Suffolk Heritage Coastline, conveniently close to the A12 and on the National Cycle Route (National Cycle Network route 1, and the Suffolk Coastal Cycle route – Regional Route 41), the cottage, pub and campsite made for a wonderful and relaxing stay with our every need both anticipated and catered for. Forests (Rendlesham), nature reserves (Minsmere), great food (Farm Cafe at Marlesford) and many places to eat in the various villages and towns, the beach (Dunwich, Orford, Walberswick, Covehithe and Southwold) plus the location in the Alde Valley, a stunningly attractive and fertile farming region, punctuated by wonderful footpaths and views make this region a prime holiday destination whilst retaining its sense of self. People live and work here and this is not obscured by the very necessary tourism that brings in much revenue- there is no tourist ‘Disneyland’ feel about this part of the county.

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The exterior of Badger Cottage

Alde Garden, as they named the campsite, is set in what was once a larger beer garden belonging to the pub and cleverly gives no hint as to its size and shape, tucked away as it is behind an existing perimeter of hedges and mature trees, criss crossed with pathways following the contours of this sloping site. Each accommodation option-Yurt, Tipi, Bell Tent, Romany caravan, shepherds hut, Hideaway among others, is discreetly placed so as to benefit from the privacy provided by shrubs and trees, wildflowers and woven partitions made from the branches from coppiced trees- willow and hazel…Clusters of indigenous plants have grown and self seeded or been transplanted, but don’t make the mistake of thinking this happens totally naturally. A wild garden requires great discipline and knowledge to ensure it remains balanced and manageable: Mark and Marie work very hard to achieve this and its seemingly effortless beauty  is deceptive.

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The Antipodean style open kitchen and dining with firepit in front

Communal facilities can be found grouped near the rear of the pub where a back door off licence serves ice creams and drinks and a nearby fire pit is bordered by log seats and tree stump tables which bore chalk drawings by children staying there (lovely). The jungle shower, ‘Treebog’, shower and bathroom block plus fridge freezer offer discreet, modern and eco friendly facilities whilst the Antipodean style open kitchen is extensively stocked with cooking and eating equipment plus eggs from the ducks, a goose and flock of chickens that roam free in the daytime. The honesty shop sells local products such as sausages, bread and milk, cans of tomatoes, pulses and bags of pasta- and yes these are locally sourced wherever possible too (although it isn’t always possible), this being a guiding principle behind everything Mark and Marie do. This kind of pride in, and loyalty to their home region is incredibly inspiring; even though they live in one of the most bountiful regions of Britain, it still takes considerable time and effort to source goods and services locally, ensure they are of high standard and maintain the continuity of supply for their guests.

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The view from the french doors of Badger Cottage

Two nights in Badger Cottage

We stayed at Badger Cottage adjacent to the pub and campsite for two nights and spent our last night sleeping under the canvas of the Dragonfly Yurt inside the camping garden proper- two different types of accommodation with wide appeal for those who want the full camping experience or those wanting to engage with nature but retreat to a bedroom with a ‘proper’ roof at night.

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Cosy nook on the mezzanine second bedroom

A converted redbrick stable, adjacent to the pub yet perfectly soundproofed, (the only sounds we heard were of the owls at night and the clatter of the hooves of the Welsh Cobb that offered trips in a trap around the local area each evening), Badger Cottage has been beautifully restored by Mark and Marie, avoiding twee pastiches of country cottage decor and offering a surprising amount of space for a home so small. Is the ultimate convenient location for local ale lovers being next to the CAMRA recommended White Horse Inn. A  low-impact place to stay, renovations were carried out using environmentally friendly paints and other natural building materials such as lime, and re-using reclaimed materials whenever possible. Most of the furniture and fittings are either recycled, beautifully hand-made from reclaimed materials or sourced locally. Solar panels heat the water for the bath, and all lights have low energy light bulbs. The cast iron woodburner is a very efficient way of heating the living room alongside a central heating system for deepest winter and water is collected via a system of water butts for the garden and livestock needs.

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Sitting room

Two days in, we were still noticing all kinds of handmade features for the first time: stone corbels with Acanthus carvings holding up sitting room beams and doorways, beautiful wall art made from reclaimed items and the detail on the stairs which themselves are stunning although families with very adventurous babies and toddlers will need to keep a close eye on them. The stairs are partially open to the mezzanine bedroom over the main sitting room so little hands needing to hold onto a rail will have to take extra care here. Mark and Marie have made atmospheric and decorative tableaux everywhere you look- a hand forged cast iron candelabra on the kitchen table, dark red wax dripping down the cups in front of the dramatic Ecclesiastical arched window, cushion covered chair pulled up in front; a stack of wonderfully scented wood built in under the stairs with fruit crate filled with bottles of beer in front and cast iron wood burner to the side, metal flue shining brightly and contrasting with the oldness of the walls; white cast iron bath with metal bath rack, space for a book and little vases with posies of Honeysuckle; rustic stacks of wooden coasters on a side table in front of the dramatic cast iron and wood stairs….

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The dining area

There is WiFi in the cottage, the grounds and some of the camping accommodation, a TV, a DVD player and stack of films in the cupboard plus plenty of books, games and magazines to borrow, two comfy sofas to sit on and french doors to throw open, allowing the room to catch the late afternoon rays as you wind down after a day exploring Suffolk. The little sitting space outside the cottage has a woven hazel hurdle fence, a small table and chair set plus that glorious Virginia Creeper covering the cottage which was just beginning to turn flame red during our stay.

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Both bedrooms, although mezzanine, offer a good level of privacy and noise proofing and they are accessed via different rooms- the front bedroom from the sitting room and the back room from the kitchen/dining area. The tiny front bedroom window with its attached bird feeders and thick curtains keeping out the early morning light was particularly attractive and as we lay in bed listening to the calls of a lonesome owl (He was shouting his head off, in search of a mate!) feeling sheltered and warm under the rafters of this cosy room, we could see how lovely a stay here in winter would be. The bedroom has the feel of a treetop hideaway surrounded as we were by beams and the furniture made of reclaimed wood and the guest bedroom balustrade has been made from sumptuous Vietnamese teak that was destined for the dump- a criminal waste that would have been! Lush throws and cushions, good quality squishy duvets and pillows and a deep deep mattress made the bedrooms feel super luxe-the draperies in the master room have been skillfully handmade by Marie’s mum. I had an impulse to bounce and leap up and down on the bed like a gleeful child when I first saw it but (1) that would have been very disrespectful to the mattress and (2) those cross beams up high would have knocked me out. Travel cots are available and need to be reserved at time of booking.

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The lanes by the campsite

The second bedroom is on a private little mezzanine over the kitchen with wooden staircase and banisters, two wooden single beds and a little sofa overlooking wall art, high above the kitchen which is itself well equipped with a dishwasher, all the equipment you will need and a supply of tea and coffee. Warm rugs cover the quarry tiled floors. The bathroom is particularly lovely- a Victorian free standing cast iron bath, beautiful wash stand and simple, fuss free decor; the heated towel rail and toiletries from a local company will lure you into spending plenty of time soaking here. There is enough space to bath more than one child at a time (saves water!) whilst a parent can sit nearby with a book or glass of wine, keeping an eye on them. There is an over the bath shower, solar panels heat the water and electricity is also from a renewable source –the 100% renewable energy tariff from Ecotricity,

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Reading the Saturday papers is one of my must do weekly rituals and sitting at the wooden kitchen table next to the arched window that overlooks the lane beside the cottage, cheese sandwich made from Suffolk Gold cheese and Pump Street Bakery bread bought from Snape Maltings farmers market, late afternoon sun streaming in, I felt peaceful and grounded, not something that is always guaranteed when staying in a rental home or hotel. Newspapers are available from the nearby small towns of Framlingham or Saxmundham and the Farmcafe at Marlesford on the A12 has free papers to read as you eat too.

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Molly and her driver

We waved to the tourists out on their pony and trap ride courtesy of Alde Driving (for bookings call 01728 746226) as they passed the kitchen window each evening and ended up going for a ride around  the villages of Sweffling and Rendham as a result, enjoying a chat with the driver about local history and laughing at his very nosy pony. Guests can book both short and long routes (from £25 per ride), rides are often available summer evenings and can be pre-booked for day time. Staying at Alde Garden and Badger Cottage offered plenty of opportunities to meet local people, other guests and the owners who encouraged us to mingle and get to know each other through spending time in the communal areas (fire pit, outdoor kitchen) and walking around the gardens. Yet we never felt either obliged to socialise (there are plenty of people who honeymoon here so clearly there is privacy to be had) nor did we feel that it was hard to find a private space. Guests here seemed sensitive if they saw you with your head bent over a book or sitting on a log staring dreamily into space.

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The cottage bathroom

Although the cottage is a little separate from the campsite- we had to go through a gate or set of steps past the rear of the pub (taking us on a wander through a romantic tangle of flower and leaf edged pathway) to access it, all guests of the cottage can use the campsite facilities. At night we wandered into the pub which was a whole twenty or so steps away and ended up retiring to the campfire afterwards, fairylights and solar path lights guiding our way in a part of Suffolk with very little light pollution, to talk to other guests, roast a few sausages, drink more local ale and just be. It is possible of course, to be completely private as guests while staying in the cottage if this is what you wish and it provides enough separateness to do this without leaving you feeling awkward and guilty about not ‘mingling’ enough.

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Dragonfly Yurt complete with ducks at the door

A night in Dragonfly Yurt

Our last night was spent in Dragonfly Yurt which has been designed and furnished with family and group visits in mind- it is camping but with a luxury edge to it, ideal for the first time camper in fact. Built on the site by Mark and Marie from locally coppiced ash and hazel, tucked away in a corner to the front right of the open kitchen, in sight of the fire pit and sheltered by a windbreak of hedgerow and within easy reach of the loo in the darkest of nights, the yurt is bright, spacious and airy. The intricately trellised structure, lit by fairy lights and casting shadows across the floor which is thickly protected by rugs and rustic matting is magical at night when the woodburner is lit (handmade again from recycled materials and featuring a delicate engraving of a Dragonfly), swiftly warming an evening which had turned unseasonally cold. The private outdoor area faces west so as to catch the afternoon sun and has a seating area carved from fallen trees and a little barbecue although the handbuilt pizza oven, fire pit and open kitchen also offer ample scope for cooking.

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Peeping through the trees can be seen other accommodation options, each set in its own little area to satisfy the human need for personal territory. The Romany caravan has a history unknown although it is believed to be at least 100 years old. With the help of a carpenter it has been restored it in traditional gypsy caravan style & design, using lots of recycled materials and provides a double bed plus under the bed child’s sleeping area. I was smitten by the roof of the ‘The Hideout’ – a cosy little retreat tucked away in a small clearing amid the trees and shrubs, almost totally hidden from view of everyone else and accessed by dipping your head to walk under a woven bower of branches and plants. Two glass panels in the roof allow a wonderful view of the nature around you – whether it be dragonflies, birds & butterflies during the daytime or bats and stars at night and most wonderfully of all, this roof is tiled with old ’45 vinyl records rescued from landfill.

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The Hideaway with roof made of vinyl records

Waking in the morning to see the shadows of the Indian Running Ducks that roam the site freely, cast against the canvas of our yurt, slowly moving closer until they peered one by one round our open door was the quirkiest (and best) memory. The most intrepid (and nosy) of the ducks had spent the previous afternoon engrossed in watching a young couple erect their own tent near to the pond, ducking its head into the canvas flap opening from time to time, shaking itself free of stray guy ropes and investigating their bags strewn over the grass.

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The Antipodean style open kitchen

Upright in shape, as opposed to the more traditional forms ducks take, these ducks provided hours of entertainment alongside the other breeds of chickens, fluffy of foot, tiny and swift moving and also prone to the occasional squabble as all chickens are wont to be. A rather mardy Gander lives in its own pen adjacent to the pub and it is advisable NOT to try to befriend him but the rest of the livestock is friendly although of course, children are discouraged from chasing. And dogs are not allowed on site. The children we met were content to sit and watch and scatter the floor with bird food supplied for this purpose and kept on the shelves of the communal kitchen. Watching chickens come flying over from all corners of the site after hearing the faintest of sounds as we picked up the container was hilarious, If they’d have been human sized, we’d have been knocked flat in the crush.

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The Treebog

Scattered all over the site, there for you (and pint sized guests) to find are little bowers, nooks and hideaways. Whippy young stems are encouraged to grow or are tied into shape, log seats placed inside and all that is needed then is a child (or adult) with untrammelled imagination. The fact that these hideaways frequently house dust bathing chickens was a source of huge joy to the little kids we met there- Five year old bi-lingual Emily was certain that “Hadas y dragones viven aquí!” (Fairies and dragons live here) as she tucked herself inside one of them, shooing away the Bantam chicken inside and firing up her already very active imagination. We won’t give away the location of these- the fun is in finding them for yourselves. Mark and Marie have provided packs of chalk, pots of crayons and drawing paper by the shelter kitchen table with haybales pulled up to sit on, many children have decorated the pages of the guest books and written expansive accounts of their stay, whilst other children have decorated the outdoor seats and tree trunks with rainbows of chalk and happy messages. Emily took it one step further and draw elaborate designs all over our knees with both the chalk and the charcoal laying around the fire pit. She thus learned where artists charcoal came from.

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Emily in a bower- hidey hole

This part of Suffolk, although not as flat as many believe the county to be, is easily walked or cycled. Hills are gently undulating, slope gradually and offer plenty of stopping -off -to -catch-breathe-points. Hence, Alde Garden offers plenty of push bikes, some fitted with child seats (or one baby seat) and accompanying safety helmets for guests to use free of charge. Local bike hire companies can provide two seat cycle trailers, delivered to the site and Mark or Marie can suggest some great local bike routes that are suited to your energy levels or fitness. To be honest, we didn’t use these, nor did we explore the local region much by foot because the campsite is such a restful place and for us, the need to restore energy levels and be still was pretty important. We did notice plenty of families with car boots stuffed with scooters, trikes and various pieces of water sport equipment so clearly Alde Garden appeals to people who want more activity from their break than we did.

We had already heard great things about the White Horse pub as one of our friends is both owner and head brewer at Shortts Farm Brewery near Thorndon and he supplies Mark and Marie with his ales, Skiffle, Indie and Blondie. In fact, our first acquaintance with the pub came when Matt took us there last July and so we were very happy to have the chance to return and get very settled and comfortable in one of the deep sofas in the lounge bar. Having to drive great distances, therefore being unable to enjoy more than a pint (some of these real ales are, real strong!) means country pubs can struggle to attract a regular clientele outside of the locals living close by so being able to stay next door (and it really is next door!) was something we intended (especially my husband) to make the most of.

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Late at night in the White Horse lounge bar

The White Horse has had the life breathed back into it after being closed for 8 years, until Mark and Marie took it on. Over 200 years old, the pub shares the same values as the campsite and cottage with reclaimed and locally made fixtures and fittings.. A wood burning stove in the lounge bar and an old Esse range cooker (with back boiler to heat various radiators) in the public bar keep things snug too whilst eco bulbs and candlelight keep lighting low- you will not be assaulted by bright electric lights and the pub is reminiscent of how it must have been two centuries ago whilst not sacrificing modern comforts too. Rows of pewter mugs belonging to locals are lined up on hooks by the front door, a piano piled high with boxed board games; Othello and Scrabble among them, newspapers and local tourist info, Bar Billiards and a dart board are all the traditional markings of a village pub that is a hub. It would have been a tragedy for Sweffling had it been been sold and turned into a private house.

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A pie and a pint by the Sweffling White Horse

Don’t look for the bar when you walk in as it has an old-style tap room where locally brewed real ales are served straight from the barrel, proper ploughmans are made and dished up alongside a range of local ice creams- the lemon and ginger? So delicious I had two pots of it. In winter the owners make hot pies, using the wood oven and when we were there, several locals were eagerly anticipating the colder weather that would herald The Season of the Pie. Scotch eggs the size of a small planet, freshly made, locally baked Huffer bread made in a wood fire and served with local rapeseed dipping oil were the last items on the small but perfect menu. The pub also stocks some local spirits, a selection of local or fairtrade organic wines, soft drinks & a small array of speciality spirits. Don’t expect Coca Cola and Fanta or similarly branded soft drinks: the cola is by Fentiman made with proper Kola nuts and many drinks are sourced locally, from East Anglia and where possible, Suffolk. Any varieties of drink not available locally are sourced from Fairtrade or other similarly ethical or groovy suppliers. My favourite was Marie’s hot spiced apple drink with spice and raisin-y undertones whilst husband tucked into a range of local ales, Absinthe from Adnams and Papagaya rum (not all on the same night, thank goodness!).

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The Sweffling White Horse- photo by Craig Girling

Staying here was the perfect recuperation after our wedding: a frenetically busy year at work and a recent burglary all conspired to leave us a tad ragged round the edges. The yurt and cottage offer two slightly different experiences and most of all, flexibility with guests able to choose how much they want to participate in campsite life, all in a glorious location.

A great marriage between eco awareness and the expectation of guests regarding their holidays means that newbies to the concept of low impact living aren’t put off (there is no proselytising) or made to feel inadequate. Rather they will go away with some ideas about how to make often very simple changes that benefit them, their purse and the world. In addition, Alde Garden is a great example of how holidays, not traditionally known for moderation and low consumption, whether this be in travel or fuel costs, buying unnecessary crap and over consuming generally, can be incorporated into a lower impact, more thoughtful way of living. Attracting families with young children is key to instilling these kind of values in a gentle, enjoyable way and Alde Garden does this cleverly with its little signs, activities and information showing kids why certain plants and environments are important (one example) and making water awareness fun- the Treebog and Jungle Shower are perfect fun for kids and adults too.

For us, the chance to meet Marie, Mark and many locals alongside the other guests was what made this short break even more special and we will definitely be returning.

Alde Garden website

Badger Cottage page

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A celebration of local seafood – the Woodbridge Shuck is back!

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The Woodbridge Shuck Shellfish Festival is back for a third year, from 3 – 5 October. The festival brings together an exciting programme of cooking demonstrations, hot and cold seafood specialities, oyster bars, historical talks, fishing boats, progressive suppers, crabbing competitions, craft stalls, live music and lots of other activities suitable for all ages.

The festival’s sponsors Simpers of Suffolk, Bespoke Events, The Tide Mill, Adnams, Infotex, The Table and The Woodbridge Fine Food Company have created the event to promoting the fruits of the River Deben including the sweet, plump oysters and mussels that are grown in its clean, calm waters.

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The flagship event is a five course menu at the festival’s Shuck Shack, a pop up restaurant at The Tide Mill. Co-founder, Chef and Director of Bespoke Events, Stephen David, will be cooking up a storm using fresh, local ingredients to show off the consistent quality of local shellfish.

The celebration of local seafood spills from the river right through the historic market town, with seafood dishes prepared by talented local chefs on the menus at the town’s many restaurants, pubs, cafes, food and wine shops.

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Jonathan Simper, co-founder of the Woodbridge Shuck, said: “The festival has grown and grown over the last few years with the sole purpose of giving more people the chance to explore the tastes and treasures of the River Deben and the nearby coast. We have such delicious local seafood and we hope to spark curiosity amongst locals and visitors to come along and try some and learn a little more about the bounty that’s on our doorstep.”

Anthony Agar, Owner of Infotex – one of the main sponsors of the Shuck, continues: “The feedback we’ve had from previous years has been very enthusiastic. Each year we try to grow the festival in line with suggestions – and every year more and more Woodbridge eateries are getting involved. This year we’re really pleased with the programme of events, demos and activities. There is something for everyone. We hope to see even more visitors enjoying the festival this year.”

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For the latest news about stall holders, menus and events you can follow the festival on Twitter @ShuckFestival or on Facebook atwww.facebook.com/ShuckFestival. For more information please visit www.thewoodbridgeshuck.org.uk

The Woodbridge Shuck Shellfish Festival is an official Fringe Event of the Aldeburgh Food and Drink Festival.

 

 

Season of the witch in East Anglia

As a child I often drove past the roadside marker commemorating the execution of a witch near Hadleigh in Suffolk, causing me to develop a horrified fascination with this unpalatable aspect of East Anglian history. If I had known aged ten that the largest single witch trial in England took place in Bury St Edmunds in 1645 when 18 people were executed by hanging, I’d have flatly refused to travel there with my grandparents on market days.

Many people remain unaware of how Bury St Edmunds in particular influenced witch hunting and trials all over Europe and particularly in the United States. The presence of Matthew Hopkins, the self styled ‘Witchfinder’ led to East Anglia becoming synonymous with witch hunts and his continued activity was guaranteed by the fiscal benefits it offered- he made a small fortune because local parishes paid him a fee for his investigations. Suffolk and Norfolk had been made prosperous through the wool and other trades, the villages of Long Melford and Lavenham are testimony to this with their astonishingly dramatic churches built from wealth and locals had money to spend in pursuit of proof of Puritanical compliance and religious devotion. It has been estimated that over 100 executions happened across East Anglia that can be attributed to the work of Hopkins. The 1603 Witchcraft Act brought an end to this in an era that had till then provided a ‘perfect storm’ of factors- a civil war, politics, religion and a belief in the supernatural underpinned by a collective external locus of control, which made Hopkins and his ilk so persuasive and successful.

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A drawing of Hopkins from his book The Discovery Of Witches

This frenzy that gripped the Bury area in the 17th century served as template and encouragement for the Salem witch trials in the States resulting in around 200 witch trials in the area in the mid-17th century, another more grotesque link to add to the already strong connections between New England and East Anglia.

Says James Sharpe, professor of early modern history at the University of York and author of the books Instruments Of Darkness and The Bewitching Of Anne Gunter on the BBC Radio Suffolk website-

“It’s a very important part of the history of Bury St Edmunds. I think there’s a recognition that the trials were important for the development of law and the price paid by innocent people because others had accused them of witchcraft.”

Thingoe Hill in the town was the usual gathering place for crowds to watch the public hangings and burnings of witches- in 1662 two elderly widows from Lowestoft were put to death after being accused of casting spells upon the daughters of a local fish merchant, Samuel Pacey. Amy Denny and Rose Cullender were stripped naked and Cullender was seen to possess a growth on her body that was believed to be a teat used to suckle her Devil’s familiar (a pig, a cat or a toad, usually) which, added to other ‘evidence’ – misfortune suffered by neighbours, the deaths of horses, pigs and cattle, and a man being infested with lice, sealed their fates. The eminent men who sat in judgement on the women, a respected doctor and an esteemed local judge meant the trial and its proceedings acquired the status of ‘case law’ and in Salem, the presiding American magistrates studied the report of the Bury trial and modelled their system of inquiry and judgement upon it.

As a result, East Anglia has a plethora of visitor attractions and events that seek to remember this interesting period of history from museums to special attractions at local stately homes and parks. In Bury St Edmunds, the local museum on Market Hill called Moyse’s Hall has well curated exhibits of witch bottles and accoutrements, dead cats and shoes, either donated or recovered from houses where they were bricked up behind walls to ward off witches/evil spirits. Usually single shoes and not pairs were entombed near doors, windows and chimneys. Sometimes other items were hidden with the shoes- coins, pipes, spoons, pots, toys, goblets, food, knives, gloves, chicken and cat bones.

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Moyses Hall Museum

Standing on one corner of the market place for over 900 years, Moyses Hall dates from the 12th century and can boast a rich and varied past as the town gaol, workhouse and police station. Serving as a town museum since 1899, it recounts the creation of the early town from the building and dissolution of the Abbey, to prison paraphernalia and artifacts of witchcraft and superstitions. The numerous house cats that were buried alive in the 17th century in the hope that they would repel witches still turn up in East Anglia as old buildings are reclaimed and restored. The Mill Hotel in Sudbury, overlooking the Millpond and famous water meadows immortalised by Gainsborough and Constable, has on display its own mummified cat, walled up behind protective glass at the rear of the main reception. Remains of a cat were also found in at the Dukes Head Hotel in Kings Lynn, in room 10 during October 2011.

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Mummified Cats in Moyses Hall- photo by Moyses Hall

Cats weren’t the only anti witchcraft technique used by domestic home owners. At the Gressenhall Farm and Workhouse Museum near Norwich, staff will tell you about how old pairs of trousers were found stuffed up a chimney, possibly to stop witches from flying into the house. When you consider the cost of fabric, the time it took to make and repair clothing by hand and the income levels of many working class families, their talismanic status is better understood. Giving up a pair of trousers was no easy decision.

Halloween sees Gressenhall Museum celebrating all things spooky with their ‘Witches in the Workhouse’ over two days. Discover objects of superstition from the museum collections and spot the bats hiding in the collections gallery then take a ghostly tour and hear chilling tales in the dark corridors of the workhouse. Among the museum’s artefacts collected from all over the region to illustrate life in Norfolk down the ages is a witch bottle from the 17th century. Found near the Tumble Down Dick public house at Woodton, these bottles served as talismanic protection against actual or threatened illness. They were usually filled with urine or nail clippings, sometimes from the sick person, with nails, pins, or threads added in too, tightly corked and either set to heat by the hearth or buried it in the ground. This, as Joseph Blagrave wrote in Astrological Practice of Physick (1671), ‘will endanger the witches’ life, for … they will be grievously tormented, making their water with great difficulty, if any at all’

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he witch bottle at Gressenhall. Courtesy the Museum of Norfolk Life

Great Yarmouth’s Tollhouse Museum, a 12th Century medieval former merchant’s house has been transformed into one of the town’s most important civic buildings with a vibrant timetable of family friendly activities and many exhibits commemorating the towns past history of crime and punishment, often with a maritime flair. Built about 800 years ago, grand home of a rich merchant with its sturdy stone walls, finely carved doorway and arched windows, it was acquired by civic officials whereupon it served as courtroom for various different types of courts, the town gaol with the notorious dungeon known as ‘the hold’, and a police station. Over the years it has been home to pirates, robbers and murderers as well as countless common crooks. It has been attacked by rebels and rioters and gutted by enemy bombs. Staff here can tell you the story of Marcus Prynne, a local gardener accused of witchcraft in 1645; not all witches were female, a commonly held misapprehension, and the gaol cells are the site for spooky Halloween story telling as visitors ‘meet’ the witches on trial and find out their grisly fate in atmospheric evenings of costume drama.

Drive up to the North Norfolk coast to Davenports Magic Kingdom in North Walsham and visit the largest collection of magic and allied arts memorabilia in Europe- a time-travel tour through the history of British magical entertainment and the place of one unique family in that story. Admission cost includes the ‘Witches to Wonder’ exhibition, a 30-minute live magic show, live Headless Lady sideshow and a visit to the re-creation of Davenport’s 1915 shop with its very own magician demonstrating magic tricks from the period.

‘Witches to Wonder’ artefacts on display include a first edition of ‘Discoverie of Witchcraf’t, written in 1584 and now recognized as the first published material on conjuring, and the full-size reproduction of Harry Houdini’s Chinese Water Torture Tank, built for the film Death Defying Acts starring Catherine Zeta Jones.

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Fye Bridge, Norwich. Photo courtesy of Evening News

The oldest known bridge in Norwich is at Fye Bridge, down the road from ancient Tombland leading to Magdalen Street. A 13th century structure, it was rebuilt in 1829 and later widened and was once the site of a medieval ducking stool that was used for witches and if they survived they were burned to death. The Norwich author, George Borrow, writing in the 19th century commits to paper, some of the horror of Lollards Pit in Norwich where  people were burned to death for their religious beliefs. Walking through the thronged crowds from the Guildhall Jail over the Bishopsgate Bridge they would spy the faggots of wood piled high on their pyre and be handed over by the church to the authorities and executed. The location married both symbolism and practicality. The pits were formed after the excavations for the nearby cathedral and so proved handy, avoiding the need for the removal of bodies at a time when disease could easily be spread and their location was just outside the city walls, symbolising the casting out of the condemned from the church and decent society.

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Today the Bridge House pub (built over the holding cells) stands where once the pits and execution place stood and a plaque commemorating those who died so awfully is fixed to its wall. On the other side of the road, on the riverbank, is another plaque, hailing the executed as martyrs, naming up to a dozen who died all those centuries ago. It is said the screams of the people are still heard and witches can be seen crossing the bridge.

Moot Hall in Aldeburgh archives the life of this famous Suffolk seaside town which, around 1662, did not enjoy the relative prosperity and regard that it boasts today. Outbreaks of smallpox, loss of livelihood to marauding pirates, the three Dutch trade Wars (1652-74) which culminated in the terrible Battle of Sole Bay fought off Southwold in 1672 and the influx of sailors requiring help all caused hardship. Add to this a declining population less able to work and imbue the town with wealth and it is not surprising that the town was caught up in a wave of hysteria against so-called ‘witches’ which swept through East Anglia. Matthew Hopkins, self-styled Witch Finder General, and widow Phillips, his search woman, were employed by the Burgesses to flush out witches in Aldeburgh. Seven women were imprisoned in the Moot Hall’s prison in the middle of one of the coldest winters on record. They were prevented from sleeping and watched for proof of their guilt – that is for the coming of their familiar spirits. Eventually, cold, hungry and exhausted, they may well have confessed and were all hanged in February 1646.

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Photo of Framlingham Castle by English Heritage

Framlingham Castle moat formed the backdrop to the ‘swimming’ of another suspected male witch named John Lowes, the elderly vicar of Brandeston who was accused of witchcraft in 1642. After being ‘swum’ in the moat, and found guilty after floating to the surface, Witchfinder Hopkins (Yes, him again) “kept Lowes awake several nights together while running him backwards and forwards about his cell until out of breath… till he was weary of his life and scarce sensible of what he said or did”. Ultimately, Lowes ‘confessed’ to sending imps to sink a ship near Harwich and allegedly proclaimed that he “was joyfull to see what power his imps had”. Lowes was hanged at Bury St Edmunds in August 1645. A plaque dedicated to Lowes can be seen in Brandeston’s All Saints Church and an image of his hanging is on the village sign. The castle itself makes a dramatic day out for families with its majestic turreted buildings set at the edge of the small market town, surrounded by grassed park, a small pond and numerous places to eat and drink. The end of each October sees the castle putting on Halloween events based on witch hunting with children invited to participate in an interactive adventure.

 

Lavender Flower Shortbread

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Sometimes the prosaic and the romantic meet and become something more than the sum of their parts, an aesthetic and culinary experience that makes one swoon. Nobody would deny that a typical shortbread recipe with its, um, short list of ingredients- butter, semolina, sugar, flour and in this case, lavender is anything other then neat and practical. It seems to bear the heart and soul of its homeland, north of the English border yet the Scottish heart is also a deeply romantic and sentimental one, proud of its history and the slow burn of a cuisine now gaining its rightful place as one of the greats (and far removed from the lazy stereotypes of deep fried this and that).

Shortbread’s inception came from this place of practicality and economic necessity-no food was wasted, leftovers were often turned into something new to make them more palatable or render them suitable to pop into a pocket and take to work. Said to originate from the medieval “biscuit bread”, leftover dough from bread making was dried out in a cool oven until it hardened into a rusk, similar to the Italian Biscotti: the word “biscuit” means “twice cooked”. The leaven in the bread was replaced by butter, and this biscuit bread became shortbread.

Historically an expensive luxury reserved just for special occasions such as weddings, Christmas and New Year for many people, customs grew alongside its popularity- particularly apropos for me seeing as this recipe for lavender shortbread was served to arriving guests at our own wedding reception. In Shetland it was traditional to break a decorated shortbread cake over the head of a new bride as she crossed the threshold to her new home (what a waste of good food!). The Pagan ‘Yule Cakes’, symbolising the sun, begat the new custom of eating shortbread at the dawn of each New Year and is traditionally offered to ‘First Footers’- the first people to enter a house after midnight in Scotland.

In the Mid 16th century Mary Queen of Scots was said to be rather partial to Petticoat Tails, the thin, crisp, buttery shortbread originally flavoured with caraway seeds although they are usually found without this spice these days.  Scored with a knife whilst still warm and soft from the oven, the shortbread is cut into triangles that fit together into a circle, echoing the shape of the pieces of fabric used to make a gored under skirt or petticoat during Elizabeth the Firsts reign. The name for the dressmakers pattern was ‘tally’ and so the biscuits became known as ‘petticoat tallis’.

In this less prosaic version, fresh lavender petals are mixed into the shortbread dough, resulting in an evocation of summer, delicate, fragranced and buttery. The semolina adds a frisson of snap and crunch whilst retaining that rich, damp crumb too. Romantic in taste and appearance with a scattering of flowers baked into the crust, this shortbread was delicious served with a glass of Asti or Prosecco and was scarfed down by guests in five minutes flat. Don’t be tempted to add more lavender and reduce the quantities if using dried or it’ll taste more like Jane Austen’s laundry.

Recipe

60g of caster sugar plus extra for sprinkling over the baked shortbread

120g plain flour

60g semolina

120g cubed unsalted cold butter

2 tsp chopped fresh lavender flowers- remove stalks and seeds

Method

Butter and flour a 22-25cm springform cake tin or tart tin.

Preheat oven to 180C / Gas mark 4.

Place all the ingredients in a mixer and using a paddle, mix until they form a sticky and fine crumb. Or you can add all the ingredients to a bowl and rub in by hand.

Tip the dough into the tart tin and press out lightly with fingers or the back of a spoon until even and flattened out.

Place in the oven and bake for 15-20 minutes or until just turning a light golden brown. Remove from the oven, sprinkle with a little caster sugar and cut into wedges whilst it is still warm and in the tin. Let cool completely then remove wedges.

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