leyton.org

Yesterday I posted a transcript of the 1967-68 Good Food Guide review of my Grandparent’s restaurant, The Miners Arms. It rather appealed to me for the brief insight into the character of my Grandfather.

Another review followed in 1969-70, and was also available at Thornbury Castle, so I snapped a copy. It too has a wonderful anti-garlic quote (my Grandparents were famous garlic haters), and I love the comments about the size of parties, and opening hours being dependent on the boiler. Marvellous. Note it also got a Good Food Award.

I should stress, the Miners’ Arms is now a residential house (has been for quite some time).

Anyway, without further ado:

PRIDDY, Somerset   Miners’ Arms 4 Miles NW of Wells. Map 2. Priddy 217

Paul Leyton and his wife continue the individuality and excellence of their cuisine and wines at this remote and rather drab-looking inn. It is not even in Priddy, which is remote enough; it stands about two miles to the north-east, at the junction of the B3134 and B3135; a small off-white building. The food is a la carte only; an average lunch will cost you 22/-, and dinner is 27/6, excluding wine; the menu is unusual and imaginative. Among the best dishes are Mendip snails a la sauce du patron, cooked in a mixture of English herbs and ‘not obliterated by garlic’ (1/2 dozen, 6/6); clear snail soup (5/-); quenelles of Chew Valley trout with Normandy sauce (8/- as a starter); chicken in cider (10/0); quenelles of veal with mushroom sauce (11/6 as main dish); smothered chicken (with cream, onions an white wine (9/-); steak Theodora (with herbs), (17/6) ; lemon syllabub (3/6); and Miners’ Delight (cream ice and apricot in a pastry case with hot sherry sauce and cream, 3/6). As is perhaps inevitable in such a position, the deep freeze is used, but if it was always used so skilfully we should not complain. It is no place for large party, as everything is cooked to order. ‘Six is the maximum we can cope with in one party,’ states Mr Leyton, ‘to cook for more at the same time seizes up the kitchen.’ You must be prepared to wait half an hour in the lounge while your starters are cooked and be some time at table. The rooms are rather simple. The wines, about 85 in all, are chosen with great skill, and as things are (alas) can’t be called expensive. Quarter-pint glasses of French red or white cost 3/6 to 4/6; among the more expensive wines, a personal choice would be Ch. La Louviere, white Graves, ‘59 (22/-) or Scholls Bockelheimer ‘64 (21/-) to begin with, Ch. Bourgneuf ‘55 (26/-) or Volnay Caillerets ‘57 (28/-) to follow, and thereafter ask Mr Leyton’s advice.

Cl. Chr. & Boxing Days; probably 2 weeks end Nov/Dec; ‘and when the boiler bursts’. Must book. Meals 11.30-2; (summer) 6-9.45 (Su 7-7.30); (winter) 6.30-8.30 (Sa 9.3, Su 7-7.30). Alc main dishes 5/6 to 17/6. Cover 2/6. Seats 24. Restaurant & residential lic. Car park. No dogs in d/r. B&B from 30/-. STABILISED PRICES

GOOD FOOD AWARD CLASS C

Whilst at a family wedding last week at Thornbury Castle, my father showed me a copy the castle had in its library of the 1967-68 Good Food Guide, which contained a review of my Grandparent’s restaurant, The Miners’ Arms.

My Grandfather died back in 1998 (his obituaries are available to read here), and throughout my life I’ve always been very interested in what he got up, and what people had to say about him. So this rather tickled me, as it gives a bit of insight into my grandfather’s character.

That said, perhaps I’m rather affected by my own memories. Reading it now, I’m sure he probably annoyed a few people in his time with his idea of refusing to serve people particular dishes who ’spoilt their palettes’, but as somebody who’s toes curl whenever I see anybody unthinkingly applying salt to a meal (particularly one I’ve cooked) before tasting it, I can certainly sympathise.

Another anecdote relayed to me by one of my uncles was that of my Grandfather’s refusal to wear a morning suit to his wedding very much the standard custom at the time I gather. Very good to hear of his dislike of tradition, and his independent views very much to the fore.

Anyway, without further ado, here’s the extract from pages 261-262 of the 1967-68 Good Food Guide, by Raymond Postgate.

PRIDDY, Somerset. The Miners’ Arms, near Wells. At junction of B3134 and B3135. Map 2. Priddy. 217

During 1968 Mr and Mrs Paul Leyton, whose cuisine and wines at this whitewashed inn on the Mendip plateau have for six years earned the highest praise members can bestow, became known to an even wider public as the people who turned away ‘a four-guinea orange slubbed silk Cecil Gee roll-neck shirt’. This matter is referred to in the Preface: Mr Leyton’s own staff are informal both in dress and manner. Anyway, in the evening, though not at lunch, women must wear skirts and men jackets, collars and ties. Mr Leyton is strict in other respects, too – he will not service his more delicate dishes to people who insist on spoiling their palate by drinking martinis beforehand – and, not surprisingly, some people think the food does not justify the fuss. But most are content to take the Miners’ Arms on its own terms. Mr Leyton uses his deep-freeze cleverly and defends its use elegantly, but an occasional dish of some freshly-dug and cooked root vegetable might with advantage appear more often on his menus. The restaurant is well known for its morning-gathered Mendip snails (7/6 a half dozen, or 5/- as a clear soup) but for delicacy his quenelles of trout (8/6), or loin of pork smoked in his own vast chumney (7/6) are better starters. Main courses, though very good, especially steak Theodora (rare with herbs, 17/6), are less remarkable. To finish, try orange conserve (5/-). The wine list has been reconstructed: there is still a ‘49 Ch. Petrus (80/-) or a ‘59 Musigny (50/-) or other even dearer bottles for a great occasion, but there are also five simple draught wines at 16/- a pint, and a charming English rose from Lt-Col Gore-Browne’s vineyard at Beaulieu (26/-).

Cl. Chr. & Boxing Days; 3 weeks Nov-Dec; Su D. Must book. Meals 11.30-2; 6-9.45 (winter, 8.30). Alc main dishes 7/6 to 17/6. Cover 2/6. Seats 24. No dogs. B&B from 35/- p.d.

* Class C

App. by too many members to list.

It’s not often you get to write about running and books at the same time. The few running books I have are quite technical books, dealing more with the actual process of running and providing a reference point for my questions. They’re not so much in them about what it is to actually be a runner. Consequently, they’re more functional, reference material, and there’s not much to be said for writing about them, much as I don’t really feel the need to write about dictionaries!

Saturday’s Guardian has an extract in the magazine from Haruki Murakami’s forthcoming book “What I Talk About When I Talk About Running” therefore jumped out at me. It’s an excellent piece – well worth a read by any other runners – and as a result I’ve got the book in my shopping basket already. There are some superb extracts about the joys of running: the thoughts you have, observations you find yourself making, routines and mantras you go through, and the challenges you face. One section jumped out at me, particularly in light of my comments yesterday about running being every bit a mental challenge as a physical one:

One runner told of a mantra his older brother, also a runner, had taught him which he’s pondered ever since. Here it is: “Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.” Say you’re running and you start to think, Man this hurts, I can’t take it any more. The hurt part is an unavoidable reality, but whether or not you can stand any more is up to the runner himself. This pretty much sums up the most important aspect of marathon running.

Click here for the full article.

Frances is coincidentally currently reading Norweigian Wood, by the same author, which I gave her for Christmas. I’ve heard great things about that book, and hoping to read it when she’s finished. I just hope she doesn’t finish it just before this book comes out!

I’ve been a big fan and customer of Amazon for years, and remember placing orders back in the late 1990’s, not long after they opened up in the UK, for (technical) books that proved hard to get hold of in high-street bookshops.

I find their selection hard to beat, and combined with frequently very competitive prices, and excellent service, they’ve simply slotted in as a trusted company for many of my purchases.

I was intrigued to read about Amazon Prime when it launched in the US, and later over here. For an upfront fee (currently £49), all your purchases are shipped first class for a year.

It didn’t appeal at first, I just figured I didn’t need to order that many things to justify it. But I recently saw there was a free one-month trial available, which I figured was worth a go at, given I did have a few items on my shopping list. Now I’m a bit worried it’s changed the way I buy books for good! I was recently browsing in Borders in town, and saw a book I quite liked. On returning home, I looked it up on amazon, and ordered the book, saving myself £3 on the Borders price. OK, the £49 divides out over the course of the year, but the convenience and speed with which items come (no more batching up big orders to save) makes it a whole different experience.

Well worth considering if you love books as much as I do. Take a look at the details here.

I’ve just finished reading Moab is my washpot, by Stephen Fry. A fascinating book by this well known personality.

Stephen Fry is a presenter and actor I always seek out. His compelling documentary on manic depression was a stunning piece of work. His comedy double-act “A bit of Fry and Laurie”, with Hugh Laurie remains one of my favourites, and of course more recently QI: a show that must have been designed with Stephen Fry in mind to present it. Whilst ‘Wilde’ is on my PVR still to be watched, he was superb in ‘Peter’s friends’, and I’m looking forward to watching Wilde just as soon as I can.

But I’d only limited knowledge about Stephen Fry’s life, so when I realised that ‘Moab is my washpot’ was his autobiography of his time before Oxford, I thought it would make an interesting read, so placed it on my christmas list. I’m not normally taken by autobiographies, but this book read almost like a novel. The character he was describing seems so very different from the person we see before us. His sheer honesty about less than admirable traits – he most famously was convicted for credit card theft – makes the book all the more compelling.

I sometimes worry that perhaps I put too much detail about my life, thoughts and opinions on this weblog, or bring up too much personal detail in conversation. I’m not very good at separating my work from my personal life, and don’t really want to. That Stephen Fry has put so much intimate detail about his childhood experiences, thoughts and actions into the public sphere is admirable and very brave. But the result is a book that was very difficult to put down.

Compelling, witty, extremely well written, thought provoking and very, very personal. A unique book, by a fascinating individual, and is very highly recommended. I will certainly be seeking out more of his books in the near future, and also look forward to perhaps a second volume, covering more of his life.

I moved to Scotland about three years ago, but have been coming here on and off over the last 15 years. Since moving here I was keen to learn more about the country’s history, but hadn’t quite found the time in my reading schedule to fit such a book in. Whilst browsing in a bookshop recently though, I came across Magnus Magnusson’s ‘Scotland: The story of a nation’. Yes, he of Mastermind fame who died earlier this year. The book struck me as ideal – a balanced and enjoyable writing style that covered subjects well without being overwhelmed with facts – so I added it to my next purchase from amazon.

My knowledge of Scottish History, indeed of British History, was a victim of my GCSE history curriculum’s focus on 20th century history (Third Reich; Soviet Russia; Cold War), and the rather disjointed curriculum my schools followed in the years preceeding my GCSE’s. We seemed to lunge about history as we moved up through the school, and only my general interest ensured I had a knowledge outside of what was covered. But to say I had a good knowledge of history would be to overstate the case.

That’s not to say my GCSE History curriculum wasn’t good. It was. Key skills, and relevance to the time, continue to serve me well: In particular our teacher was very keen to emphasise “Understanding sources”, and explaining bias. The lessons stuck with me, and of course remain of great use when reading the press.

But I digress. The point I’m making is I didn’t really feel I had a solid understanding of British History, and that (for somebody growing up in Somerset) means primarily English history. Scottish History really didn’t feature other than from asides from Scottish friends regarding the numerics following Monarchs… I’m not sure I even knew who William Wallace was until I visited Edinburgh or saw Braveheart (and that film is not really a good foundation!). I certainly didn’t realise that Macbeth was actually based on an actual Scottish King. There may have been mention in classes of the Scottish influences, relationships and conflicts, but it certainly didn’t get presented as significant, so much of it just passed me by.

So in reading the book, I’m quite sure I chose one of the most readable and well-written histories of Scotland that’s has been put together in recent years. This was not a dry history tome, but an enjoyable book with a strong narrative feel, and plenty of interesting asides, footnotes and references. Of particular note are the asides regarding what currently can be seen of historic locations, venues and remains that have inspired me to perhaps do a spot more research before we head out on a trip to see what can be seen along the way.

The ‘Epilogue’ was interesting as it dealt with the 20th century developments, including the political forces at work from Communism, through to Scottish Nationalism’s changing fortune. Of course the latest news of the SNP winning power doesn’t feature, but adds a particular relevancy to the history

So I’m pretty confident I now better understand some of the key themes, people and events that occur in Scottish history. The Jacobite uprisings in particular weren’t something I fully understood, or who and what The Conventanters were. I’m left feeling that Robert the Bruce isn’t entirely deserving of the praise he receives (striking me more as a political opportunist than anything else), and I feel I better understand why the “English” civil war involved Scotland, and why both the Union of the Crowns occured in 1603.

I’m left feeling that Scotland was rather poorly served by many of it’s historic leaders, and that the ‘Auld alliance’ with France was little more than a diversionary tactic for France when at war with England, other than occasional loans of troops and ships. The most defining event is, perhaps, the 1707 Union with England – something that is increasingly relevant and topical today. Better understanding the political, religious and economic factors (before as well as after) is very helpful.

Harry Truman said “Those who do not read and understand history are doomed to repeat it“. I certainly think that everybody is better served by understanding the history of their country and how it has shaped, and been shaped by, the world we now inhabit. A history book this well constructed, informative and simply enjoyable to read really is a rare thing, and I can strongly recommend it to anybody who might want to improve their understanding of Scotland’s history.

Some old 1979 interview tapes with Douglas Adams have been rediscovered and published, and anybody who’s ever enjoyed Doctor Who, H2G2, or any of the other products of his extraordinary imagination and comedy talent will no doubt enjoy this article.

The Radio version of Hitchhiker’s remains one of the funniest programmes ever put out by the BBC, the books are just as good, the TV version remains a classic BBC Sci-Fi effort (dodgy special effects and running about in quarries compliment the humour wonderfully), and whilst the recent film left a lot to be desired, it still had enough of the original (including plenty of references) to be an enjoyable few hours.

Reading the interview, it’s very sobering and sad to remember that he died so suddenly, and so young, with so much more to no doubt offer on the various causes he was passionate about. This ranged from conservation of the natural world (long before it became fashionable), to humourously speaking up for atheism in novel and challenging ways, and generally living life to the fullest possible extent. He certainly remains one of the real inspirations in my life.

I was rather taken aback to discover, whilst chatting to friends on a recent visit to London, that Michael Palin isn’t a universally loved, well regarded and popular figure. I’d always felt everybody liked the man. Well, it seems one or two of my friends felt he appears a little condescending with locals on his famous travels, and as such had marked him down as somebody not altogether likable.

I think the solution to their feelings has to be to read Michael Palin’s Diaries, a book I’ve recently finished. It would put the lie to the (in my view) misplaced accusation that Palin is anything other than a Really Nice Chap Who You’d Like to Buy a Beer and Have a Chat With.

The book is certainly large. Ominously so at first (650 pages in total). What can this TV actor writer bloke have to say in this amount of space for what is only the first 10 years of his diaries? Quite a lot, as it happens. They start off at the beginning of the Monty Python TV series, and conclude at the end of the year which saw the stupendous Life of Brian unleashed on the world.

The style of the book changes over the years, as Palin finds his diary writing style, and it’s ultimately an engrossing, brief but engaging style that portrays a man who is experiencing what we now regard as a great series of successes, although of course at the time it’s anything but. Struggles, disagreements and private thoughts are contained which show that even for a group of people on top of their game, bringing such differing personalities together is not an easy process.

Palin appeals throughout as a rational and down-to-earth everyman character. Very much how I like to think I’d be if, for some bizarre reason, fame struck. It’s certainly sad to hear him detail Graham Chapman battles with alcohol, and his relating John Cleese and Eric Idle’s struggles – and successes – all of which add to the dynamics of the group. His everyman take on life is apparent in the contracts to the more famous members of the group spending time abroad for tax reasons, or living up the celebrity life-style, whilst Michael Palin, Terry Jones and Terry Gilliam seem content with life in London and productive work. It comes across as heart warming stuff.

There are remarkable insights too into the journey the group went on as they brought Life of Brian into being, how the religious focus began to whip up into the national controversy, and the groups struggle to find funding after EMI walked away late in the pre-production. The problems Palin and colleagues had with the BBC, a seemingly frustratingly bureaucratic organisation that didn’t realise what it had on its hands with Python, or even Palin’s own ‘Ripping Yarns’.

I started with a fondness for Palin, and left with that very much intact, indeed a great curiosity to dig out some of the other programmes he was involved in that I was unfamiliar with (Ripping Yarns in particular). So, I’m positively enthused at the prospect of subsequent installments to better understand this man and his life, and minded to dig out some of his travel books. I’d certainly suggest this book would be of interest to anybody who shares an interest in Python, or the man himself, and wants to understand more about the dynamic for this most ground-breaking of comedy groups.

I was in London recently, and had a fair bit of free time on my own on Sunday evening. So I decided I’d get myself an early Christmas present and pick up Hannibal Rising.

I’ve been a fan of the books since getting back from seeing Silence of the Lambs, going out to the shops and buying the combined book, along with the prequel ‘Red Dragon’. I devoured (sorry, tough not to use such a description) the books in a single late-night reading session. Whilst I enjoyed the sequel ‘Hannibal’, the ending left me feeling a bit disappointed. I felt the books took the Clarice Starling character a bit too far. Unsurprising then that the film diverged in the way it did.

But ‘Hannibal Rising’ is an excellent novel, and enjoyable journey into the formation of a curious icon of cinematic history. Tracing the origins of the evil of Hannibal, it’s hard not to feel a little sympathetic to the character in a horrific situation. As with the earlier books, I found it hard not to put down, curious about the next twist and turn.

But it’s also curiously short book given its size. I was frustrated by the short chapters (I can’t be sure from recollection that the earlier books were formatted in this way or not), and it felt bulked by so many chapters finishing with just a short few lines at the top of the book. A few glaring typos that should really have been picked out in the editing process (repetition of statements occurred in a couple of locations), and interrupted my reading. Perhaps these will be fixed in later reprints.

Characterisation was curious of key characters – they felt a bit lighter than in other books – and the overall story felt a little at odds with the character of the later books. I felt curiously outside of the evolutionary process of Lecter’s evil, given that’s what this book was supposed to be about. A cultured, intelligent child/ young adult who moves into evil to avenge/apease nightmares, but there was little of the ‘insight’ that made the other books so enthralling.

There’s plenty of room left for the rumoured second book which I expect will pick up where this book left off, to describe the build up to his final arrest and incarceration, referred to of course in Red Dragon and Silence of the Lambs. Thomas Harris isn’t the fastest of writers, so I’m sure it’ll be a few years before it appears.

In short though, this is classic stuff, and any fan of the books/films would do well to pick this up and enjoy it. I’m certain it’ll be made into a film although of course Hopkins won’t be able to feature (makeup’s not that good that he could play an 18 year old!), but that’s got to be a good thing: He’s a talented actor that’s gone a bit native in hollywood, to the detriment of him. But I digress. A great read that would be a great idea for a christmas present if you’re faced with some time off and want to ‘escape’ into the readable horror of Hannibal Lecter’s formation.

I’m currently reading Richard Dawkins’ latest book, The God Delusion, and whilst I know that Dawkins isn’t to everybody’s taste, he certainly is to mine, and I’d suggest that even if you dislike his strident views, they are still views that cannot be dismissed lightly (or at all if you seek a naturalistic explanation for our existence). It is exceptionally well argued, and I’m thoroughly enjoying the book, and I’m only half way through.

Anyway, one of the examples I’ve just read about was that of the Cargo Cult’s (see also h2g2 on the subject), which sprang up in the late 19th century through to, and during, the second world war, as bemused natives of small pacific islands were awe struck by the seeming magic of the visiting peoples ability to magic produce out of air (Arthur C. Clarke’s 3rd law springs to mind (”Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic“). The natives in some cases went as far as building air strips, coconut based radios, and talking in strange voices, all seemingly in a hope to bring about the air-drops that occurred when the visitors had done so.

It’s a startling example of how a religion of sorts can be built on the basis of poor understanding, and a need for answers. Once established, and even reinforced by the ongoing activities of their visitors, the idea became pervasive to the islands. A marvellous example of the spread of a particular meme, and repeated many times over, entirely independently.